Disclaimer: I don't own Mission: Impossible, that would be impossible! I just derive what is surely an unhealthy amount of pleasure from it.
A/N: So, I'm trying my hand at something tragic; let me know what you think.
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"Alright, it's almost two. You better get in position."
Willie nodded and slipped out of the back room where Jim would be hiding. Barney had already left to start the next part of the operation, Cinnamon was still undercover, and Rollin…well, honestly he wasn't sure where Rollin was, but he wasn't with the two of them.
Quietly, he moved to stand behind a pile of boxes almost diagonal from the door. Should anything happen, he'd have a clear shot of most of the room.
-
The remaining time ticked by slowly, but finally the gang arrived. Waltzing in like they owned the place, which they might as well have. Technically, it wasn't owned by anyone currently, and probably never would be.
Everything went according to plan until Willie's leg fell asleep. Carefully, he shifted his weight, bumping lightly against one of the crates. Willie held his breath as the silence in the room took on a different quality.
-
Jim jumped at the sound of a gun shot, whirling to stare at the door. Kresnick laughed shortly. "I guess there was a guard left. Well, never mind, he won't be a problem now."
Feeling like his insides had turned to ice, Jim numbly collapsed into the car. There'd be time to mourn this lose, but now wasn't the time or the place. It would be terribly cruel to fail the mission now, when the price of success had just become so great.
Now, if only he could keep Barney from finding out until they were all done…
fin