Disclaimer: I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or any other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. 🙂
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Nemesis Chapter 9
Maybe they didn't crash, Jim thought hopefully. Maybe they just had some minor turbulence and it messed with the transmitter. Maybe Grant was just knocked out; the earring transmitter only picks up Grant's voice, so if he's unconscious then nothing will come through even if Max is talking.
But Jim refused to accept that Grant and Max were dead. He couldn't. Not until he was sure.
Jim's mind began to race wildly. If the plane were incapacitated and Grant and Max were hurt somewhere, how on earth would he find them? Quickly, Jim checked the tracking device in Grant's earring, but it wasn't putting off any signal either.
Jim cursed to himself. Granted, the earring was ingenious, and given their cover they certainly couldn't have used their regular communicators. But it was still in the development and testing stages, and its reception over long distances or high altitudes had not yet been proven.
They should have had a backup.
Next mission, Jim vowed to himself, we'll fix that problem. As for this one, maybe Nicholas or Shannon would have an idea about how to find Grant and Max when they returned. In the meantime, Jim would just keep trying to reach them. He had to.
Jim briefly toyed with the idea of telling Nicholas what Grant had said, but he thought better of it. Of all the teams and individual IMF agents he had worked with over his long career, this team was the most like family. They genuinely cared about each other and enjoyed each other's company, even outside of regular missions.
They had all been trained as professionals, and Jim knew they'd be able to continue on even in the wake of someone's passing - they'd done it several years before when they'd lost Casey. But he wanted his team - his family - there in person when he told them the news. Besides, he thought, there was still a chance that it wasn't what it seemed to be.
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After several minutes of driving by nothing but empty farmland, Shannon and the man in the gray suit arrived at an older-looking wooden house. Gray Suit motioned for Shannon to get out, then followed her into the house with the gun shoved against her back. Nicholas watched carefully from several yards away.
"Jim," Nicholas called softly.
Jim did not reply right away, as he usually did. This troubled Nicholas, and his brow furrowed in concern.
"Jim, do you read me?" he tried again. Still, there was nothing, and Nicholas' voice grew louder.
"Jim, are you all right?"
Finally, Nicholas' voice jolted Jim out of his reverie. Jim cursed to himself.
"I'm fine, Nicholas. What's up?"
Nicholas seemed to accept Jim's lack of explanation without question. "Jim, we are at an old house in the middle of nowhere. I've seen nothing but farmland for the past four or five miles."
"Okay, Nicholas. Keep in touch."
"Will do."
*******
Once inside the old farmhouse, the man put down his gun, searched Shannon briefly for evidence of a wire, then smiled and offered her a drink.
"That's one hell of a welcome," she told him, not sure what to think at this point.
"Sorry," the gray man smiled. "A man can't be too careful these days."
"Still, you called me, remember?"
The man's smile faded. "If you knew the kind of men I am working with, Miss Seville, you'd understand."
"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mister....?"
Shannon waited expectantly for Gray Suit to supply his name, but he did not. Instead, she was startled as the telephone rang.
"Excuse me a moment," he murmured. "Don't go anywhere."
He walked over to the telephone hanging on the wall and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"That's her," Garcia muttered into his car phone, having seen Shannon walk into the old wooden house. "The reporter. Were you followed?"
"Yes," came the succinct answer.
"Then the priest is probably watching right now. You know what to do."
"Yes, sir."
Gray Suit hung up the phone but kept his back turned to Shannon.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Fine," he answered.
Suddenly, he whirled around, and Shannon was shocked to see a homemade explosive device in his hand. In the split second that followed, she realized she'd smelled the hint of gasoline fumes since entering the old wooden house.
Gray Suit raced outside, hurling the device as he ran, and Shannon screamed as it landed near the front door and instantly erupted into a ball of flames.
"FIRE!" she yelled.
Shannon's scream echoed in Nicholas' ear. He quickly keyed his communicator.
"Jim, the house is on fire!" he cried, then he abandoned his equipment and took off running toward the house.
Gray Suit watched him, waited until he was inside, then hurled a gas can into one of the open side windows.
A split second later, the entire structure exploded, the flames shooting several feet into the air.
"That should take care of those two," Garcia smiled at his companion.
Straw Hat returned his smile. "Now, to go after Mister Phelps."
*****
(c) 2016
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