Prompt Post One
The Mission Impossible 4: Ghost Protocol Prompt Post One is now open!
Go forth and kink!
Ask a Mod // Rules and Warnings // Fills Post // Friending Meme
Go forth and kink!
Ask a Mod // Rules and Warnings // Fills Post // Friending Meme
“Keep it close, would you? We might have to make a hasty retreat,” he said, with a smirk designed to imply dramatic romantic entanglements, and slid an impressive wad of pesos into the man’s hand.
“Of course, sir,” said the valet, pocketing the cash.
It seemed to Brandt that Ethan moved more stiffly than usual getting off the bike, and that he paused for an instant once both feet were on the ground, as if getting his bearings. Nothing that would be noticeable in any other man, just a slight hesitation in his usual catlike ease. Brandt squashed his worry before it could form, though. If he started second-guessing Ethan now he’d only work himself into a paralysis of anxiety.
It was still early by Manila standards, and the bar end of the Jaguar was sparsely populated, though an muted blare of cheerful laughter filtered through from the attached restaurant. Jane was perched at one end of the chrome bar, her gold and crystal jewelry glinting in the complicated lights.
“Good to see you, boys,” she purred in their ears. “How you holding up, Ethan?”
“Never better,” said Ethan as they moved past her without making eye-contact. “Rios here yet?”
“No. We’re just inside the meet window now. The rest of the place seems clean, though. No sign of Malagua’s crew.”
“Good.”
When they’d found a table along the back wall, Brandt ordered a beer and Ethan ordered mineral water. He drank it fast, too, almost gulping-or so it seemed to Brandt’s overly sensitive eyes. He watched a small slick of sweat form in the hollow of Ethan’s throat and tried to tell himself was due to the combination of motorcycle leathers and inadequate air-conditioning.
He was on the brink of saying something when Rios showed up.
He was about Ethan’s age, but haggard with it, long lines seaming his cheeks under a thatch of salt-and-pepper hair. He headed towards them and then past them, passing close enough to Ethan to bump his shoulder. Brandt felt an almost giddy flash of hope when he saw Ethan reach into his pocket. Maybe the exchange had taken place-maybe they could all get out of here.
But what Ethan drew out and placed on the table between them wasn’t a flash drive but a slip of paper with Rm. 312 scrawled across it.
“Guess we’re going upstairs,” Ethan said, looking at Brandt, but for Jane’s benefit as well.
“Want me to cover you?” her disembodied voice asked.
“No. You keep an eye out down here.”
+++
The upper floors of the Jaguar Bar seemed to function as a slightly different kind of club, or at least the third-floor hallway was lit with a suggestive red glow, and less-than-respectable noises emanated occasionally from the closed doors along each side.
But even in the dim light Brandt could no longer pretend he was imagining the stiffness in Ethan’s gait, or the way strands of hair were beginning to cling damply to his neck above the leather jacket.
So much for egghead calculations, he thought bitterly, so much for theories of invincibility. But they were too far in to abort now. No point in even saying anything, since he could imagine Ethan’s response. He could only hope the exchange would go quickly and they could get the fuck out ASAP.
He could feel the gun at the small of his back and the knife secure in its ankle holster, but they were small comfort again a microscopic enemy that had already completely its invasion.
Just ahead of him, Ethan knocked on the door of room 312.
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I'm away for the weekend too, but there'll definitely be more next week.
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“Mr. Hunt,” Rios said, opening the door wider. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
He didn’t sound as if it were a pleasure. He sounded like he’d rather be a hundred miles away from here.
“You, too, Felix,” Ethan answered, striding into the room. He gave no explanation for Brandt’s presence, and Rios didn’t seem to expect one.
“You have the diamonds?” Rios shut the door behind them with a sharp click and followed them into the suite, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. His abrupt tone and movements put Brandt on edge. Was he always this way, or had something spooked him?
It was impossible to tell from Ethan’s measured response. “All in good time, Felix. All in good time. I’ll need to see the data first.”
“Of course, of course.” Rios started patting his pockets as if he couldn’t remember which one held the flash drive. Brandt crossed his arms over his chest-Rios’s anxiety was starting to make him twitchy. The room they were in didn’t help: it had the air of a nineteenth-century cathouse remixed by minimalist Manila. Low red velvet furniture and ornate brocade wall hangings vied for attention with sleek tables and floor-to-ceiling windows. The effect was simultaneously stuffy and sterile. Maybe it was the décor that was weirding Rios out.
“Here it is,” he said at last, producing a small black rectangle and offering it to Ethan.
Ethan withdrew the miniature viewer from the inside pocket of his jacket and slotted the drive into the USB port. As he bent his eyes to the tiny screen, however, two things happened almost simultaneously.
First, Brandt caught a shiver of movement out of the corner of his eye, something that suggested those wall hangings might not have been as innocently decorative as they appeared.
Then Jane’s voice buzzed low and urgent in his ear. “I think you might be about to get company, guys. Two larger than usual gentlemen just exited the bar, heading upstairs. I’m following.”
It was possible, of course, that the men in question might be availing themselves of the Jaguar Bar’s other pleasures, but Brandt doubted it. He subtly readied himself for a fight-knew without having to look that Ethan was doing the same.
The attack, when it came, was explosive-three men erupting out of the furnishings in a way that seemed impossible, given how empty the room had looked moments before. Jane’s warning had probably saved their lives.
Rios went down first, either in punishment for his betrayal or because his part in the charade was over now. A swift knife across the throat and he crumpled in a pool of blood.
In the second’s delay his death provided, however, Ethan and Brandt were able to overturn the velvet sofa and get it in between themselves and their attackers. One of them, caught in his own momentum, hurled himself over it before he could stop himself. Ethan neatly cold-cocked him with his pistol butt and flung him back over. The other hung back, watching them with the contemptuous smirk of someone who knew reinforcements were just on the other side of the door.
And he was right. When the door behind them burst open to reveal the two burly men Jane had warned them about-as it did about two seconds later-they were trapped with the couch to their back and the first man on the other side of that.
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“Mr. Hunt,” Rios said, opening the door wider. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
He didn’t sound as if it were a pleasure. He sounded like he’d rather be a hundred miles away from here.
“You, too, Felix,” Ethan answered, striding into the room. He gave no explanation for Brandt’s presence, and Rios didn’t seem to expect one.
“You have the diamonds?” Rios shut the door behind them with a sharp click and followed them into the suite, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. His abrupt tone and movements put Brandt on edge. Was he always this way, or had something spooked him?
It was impossible to tell from Ethan’s measured response. “All in good time, Felix. All in good time. I’ll need to see the data first.”
“Of course, of course.” Rios started patting his pockets as if he couldn’t remember which one held the flash drive. Brandt crossed his arms over his chest-Rios’s anxiety was starting to make him twitchy. The room they were in didn’t help: it had the air of a nineteenth-century cathouse remixed by minimalist Manila. Low red velvet furniture and ornate brocade wall hangings vied for attention with sleek tables and floor-to-ceiling windows. The effect was simultaneously stuffy and sterile. Maybe it was the décor that was weirding Rios out.
“Here it is,” he said at last, producing a small black rectangle and offering it to Ethan.
Ethan withdrew the miniature viewer from the inside pocket of his jacket and slotted the drive into the USB port. As he bent his eyes to the tiny screen, however, two things happened almost simultaneously.
First, Brandt caught a shiver of movement out of the corner of his eye, something that suggested those wall hangings might not have been as innocently decorative as they appeared.
Then Jane’s voice buzzed low and urgent in his ear. “I think you might be about to get company, guys. Two larger than usual gentlemen just exited the bar, heading upstairs. I’m following.”
It was possible, of course, that the men in question might be availing themselves of the Jaguar Bar’s other pleasures, but Brandt doubted it. He subtly readied himself for a fight-knew without having to look that Ethan was doing the same.
The attack, when it came, was explosive-three men erupting out of the furnishings in a way that seemed impossible, given how empty the room had looked moments before. Jane’s warning had probably saved their lives.
Rios went down first, either in punishment for his betrayal or because his part in the charade was over now. A swift knife across the throat and he crumpled in a pool of blood.
In the second’s delay his death provided, however, Ethan and Brandt were able to overturn the velvet sofa and get it in between themselves and their attackers. One of them, caught in his own momentum, hurled himself over it before he could stop himself. Ethan neatly cold-cocked him with his pistol butt and flung him back over. The other hung back, watching them with the contemptuous smirk of someone who knew reinforcements were just on the other side of the door.
And he was right. When the door behind them burst open to reveal the two burly men Jane had warned them about-as it did about two seconds later-they were trapped with the couch to their back and the first man on the other side of that.
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“Use it against them, son” he’d told him once, after Brandt had been taken apart by a kid who’d rowed heavy-weight crew at Princeton. “There’s gonna be a lot of guys in this world who are bigger and stronger than you. But you’re a good fighter-you got a talent--and one day you’re gonna learn not to take them on their own terms. You’re gonna learn to use those things against them.”
And Brandt had learned. He used those skills now, catching his mark wrong-footed and getting in far enough under his guard to deliver a sharp blow to the neck. The man stumbled and Brandt was on him, taking him to the floor in an unbreakable hold and then rendering him unconscious. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye told him Ethan had taken out the second man with similar dispatch.
Which left, of course, the man on the other side of the couch.
Brandt heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
And then a shot. Though it seemed to come from the opposite direction as the first noise.
Jane stood in the doorway, her Beretta in a two-handed grip. Brandt peered over the couch: the man lay spread-eagled, a red stain in the middle of his chest.
Jane lowered her gun. “The place is crawling with Malagua’s men-I barely made it up here. He’s serious about this one.”
Automatically, Brandt turned from her to Ethan, expecting plans, advice, orders. But Ethan had pushed himself off the fallen attacker only to brace his hands on his knees, head down and breathing hard. He didn’t even look up at Jane’s words.
She and Brandt shared a look over Ethan’s bent back.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. You get him out of here. I’ll do what I can to keep them off your tail.”
That, finally, pulled Ethan’s head up. “No,” he said, a little breathlessly. “No. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“Who said anything about risks, boss? You just get home safe.” And with a sharp look at Brandt that told him that if Ethan didn’t get out it was coming out of his hide, she was gone.
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“You okay?” he asked Ethan. “You with me?” He wasn’t at all sure what they’d do if Ethan couldn’t get out under his own power.
But Ethan was upright now, at least, and his breathing was pretty much under control. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
They moved cautiously down the hallway, Brandt taking point. The elevators were almost certainly being watched, along with the main stairwells. But there had to be an emergency exit somewhere-or better yet, some external exit down the side of the building. He thought about trying to raise Benji on the comlink to get him to review the building's blueprints, but didn’t want to risk their frequency being hacked.
They made an arbitrary right at the end of the corridor, and then a left. All the doorways looked the same, but at the end of this corridor Brandt heard heavy footsteps and voices calling out in Tagalog.
“Company,” he hissed, half-turning to tell Brandt.
Who was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Brandt fought his panic, scanned the space, and spotted him, crouched about ten feet back, digging at something on the wall.
“What--?” Brandt said, retreating towards Ethan and listening to the voices draw nearer. “Oh.”
Ethan was using his knife to unscrew the screen on some kind of vent. The opening was about two-by-three feet, and Brandt could tell exactly what Ethan was thinking, though he didn’t like it at all.
“It’s some kind of unused system,” Ethan grunted, pulling the last screw loose. “No air passing through it right now. It’s bigger than it looks from the outside-there’s even a ledge in there for maintenance work.”
And that was all the time they had for discussion. The screen fell forward off the vent at the same time that the first of Malagua’s men rounded the corner.
“Right,” said Brandt. “You first.”
He pushed Ethan toward the opening with one hand and sighted on the approaching man with the other. A chest shot brought the first man down before he could get a round off, one to the knee felled the next, and the third seemed to think better of the whole idea-he turned and ran.
Brandt listened to the silence for one grateful second and then squeezed through the vent after Ethan, pulling the screen back over the opening as he did.
There was indeed quite a generous ledge inside-a place for maintenance workers to put their tools, maybe. Even so, he was jammed in next to Ethan, their feet dangling in space. Not much was visible in the murky light that filtered in through the screen, but he could see that Ethan was staring fixedly straight up the shaft. Brandt didn’t like the expression on his slack face at all.
“Ethan,” Brandt whispered cautiously. “You okay?”
In answer, Ethan plucked out his earwig, and then reached towards Brandt’s ear and did the same. His fingers sharp points of heat on Brandt’s skin.
“Will,” Ethan said, and the use of his first name would have told Brandt something was very wrong even if he hadn’t been able to feel Ethan shivering where their shoulders and hipped touched. “I need to ask you something, off the record.”
“Of course,” he said. “Anything.”
“Is there a cluster of bats about halfway up this shaft, or is that the confusion you were talking about setting in?”
tbc
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“Sorry,” Ethan murmured, and the uncharacteristic apology blindsided Brandt, plunged hinm into the maelstrom of fear and guilt that haunted the edges of his interactions with Ethan Hunt no matter how long they worked together: fear that something would go wrong on his watch; guilt because that had already happened, hadn’t it, and wasn’t everything that had come after his fault already? He shouldn’t have let Ethan attempt this mission, he thought in a sudden fury of self-castigation, he should’ve literally handcuffed him to the bed. Better yet, he should never have let him get jabbed in the first place, should’ve made sure the intel on that hotel was impeccable. He could feel the tangled thoughts claiming him, dragging him down.
Then Ethan jerked beside him and made a sharp noise, like maybe the bats were starting to do something interesting overhead. It brought Brandt to the surface like a slap. Plenty of time to indulge in angst once they got of here--now was the time to muster up whatever ice remained in his veins. He curled one hand around Ethan’s wrist, made what he hoped was a soothing sound, and with the other dug in his breast pocket for the pen that doubled as a flashlight.
“See?” he said, shining the tiny beam into the darkness above them. “Empty.” He shone the beam below them: nothing there either, just the glint of a metal grid at the bottom of the shaft.
“Yeah.” Ethan drew a shuddering breath, seemed to come back to himself a little. “Yeah.”
Brandt flicked off the light and eased his earwig out of Ethan’s hot fist-he was going to have to risk making contact.
“-the fuck are you?” Benji’s voice drilled into his ear the minute he had the thing in place, as if he’d been railing into the silence the entire time they’d been out of contact.
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There was silence on the line for almost five seconds. Then Benji said, “Good to hear your voice, man. Jane said-“ He broke off, coughed to clear his throat. “You guys okay?”
“We’re hanging in there,” Brandt told him, though even that was probably a lie. “Is Jane alright?”
“I’m fine,” Jane herself cut in, not bothering to disguise her concern. “How’s our boy?”
“Yeah. About that.” Brandt cast another anxious glance at Ethan, who seemed to be very carefully not looking at the walls of the shaft. Perhaps even more worryingly, he seemed completely unconcerned that this discussion was happening without him. “We’re going to need an exit strategy, and fast-one that doesn’t involve us getting into any more firefights.”
He told them where he and Ethan were as specifically as he could, and then listened to Benji mutter and curse as he tried to find a set of plans old enough to include the disused air shaft.
“Don’t come back into the club-upstairs or downstairs,” Jane said. “Malagua has the whole place locked down tight. I got out through the kitchens, but I think that was only because Ethan’s the one they really want. I’m holed up across the street now, but you say the word and I’m right back with you.”
“No.” Benji was back. “Okay, I hate to tell you this, Will, but I think your best option is to go up. Go down and you’ll dead end in a giant tangle of antiquated air-conditioner parts. But you’re in the old part of the building, in the back, where there’re only six floors, remember? You should be able to see the vent to the roof from there.”
Brandt looked up, saw again the patch where stripes of lighter dark patterned the shaft. “I see it.” He didn’t add that it looked impossibly far away. On an ordinary day, of course, a thirty-foot climb in a narrow shaft wouldn’t have been much of a problem, even for him-and for Ethan it would have been child’s play. But today was no ordinary day.
“Get yourselves out onto the roof,” Benji continued, “and we’ll figure out some way to extract you from there.”
“Um,” said Brandt. “Hang on a minute.”
He took out the earwig, some weird protective instinct not wanting them to hear if Ethan started talking about bats again.
“Hey.” He tightened his fingers around Ethan’s wrist-somewhat surprised they’d stayed there this whole time. Ethan turned his head, startling out of whatever daze he’d been in. “Think you can manage the climb to that vent?” Brandt pointed. “We get onto the roof and Benji and Jane will get us out of here.”
Ethan looked up, his jaw visibly clenching. But when he turned back to Brandt, he was wearing a close approximation of his usual blithe grin. “No problem. As long as you’re prepared to run interference on the creepy crawlies for me.”
Brandt barked out a short surprised laugh. Then he put the earwig back in and said, “Okay, we’ll meet you up there. Just make sure whatever evac you arrange takes us straight to that goddamn aircraft carrier.”
tbc
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Honestly, I love this fic. This is actually my new favorite thing, just, in general. Thanks for being a writing powerhouse!
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