Title: Higher Stakes

Chapter title: Never Forget

Summary: A breach in the IMF sets Brandt up against a past enemy. It is a dangerous game, and the price of losing may not only cost Brandt his life, but it could mean the end for the entire IMF.

Note: This chapter was a bitch for me to write! I have deleted and rewritten it so many times that it drove me crazy! But now I think I have it, and hopefully it turned okay. If not, then at least tell me what I could have done better.
Now, just to clarify when I write military truck, I mean those trucks where the soldiers are being transported in; you know those where there is a drivers cabin for two and behind the cabin there is a truck body where there are some benches where they sit face to face ... kind of confusing, I know, but hopefully you get the picture ;)

Thanks to casus17 and missy92 for reviewing, Snuffit, Rusher92, stinger85 and Miz Cee for following, respectively me or my story, and finally insanetumbler for favoriting my story. It means a helluva of a lot! :D

Disclaimer: I must yet again state that I do not own Mission Impossible, Jeremy Renner and so on … It's a sad life, but it is true.

"The present contains nothing more than the past, and what is found in the effect was already in the cause"

6 years ago -Location: Bely, Russia.

Brandt grabbed the wheel so tight that his knuckles went white. He forced his breathing to return to normal as the truck neared Kumaskoff's base. The old military truck, he had stolen somewhere in the town, drove carelessly across the bumpy snow-covered landscape and jostled the agent inside. But he kept a steady eye on the base as it came closer and he could make out the guards standing there, black clad and holding automatic rifles. It wasn't very subtle. But then again, it was in the middle of a forest, far away from the population, so what did it really matter?

After he had disappeared from the street and got back to their safe house, Brandt had screamed. He had smashed a chair that got in the way and broken a mirror. He had punched the wall until his knuckles bled and the hunting dead eyes of agent Bensen had disappeared to the back of his mind. He knew he had to pull it together if Williams and he should have a chance of ever making it out alive. He pin-pointed agent Williams' location and started to form a plan, along with calling in what had happened and send a request for back-up and an extraction. While the IMF wouldn't allow Brandt to go into the base to get Williams, when he should be disavowed, Brandt had convinced the secretary to have a plane waiting for them in 3 hours. And if they weren't there by then, the two agents would be discharged and the plane would leave without them. So naturally Brandt felt a little pressured.

He just needed to get in, get Williams, hopefully destroy as much as possible, and get out.

Brandt swallowed the bad taste he had in his mouth and calmed his breathing as he pulled up in front of the fence of the base. A guard walked up to him and knocked on the window. In his side-view mirror Brandt could see two other, examining the back. He just hoped that the barrels, big black boxes and blankets covering some junk he had found on the street would be enough to convince them. He mentally crossed his fingers that they wouldn't find the IMF-equipment he had brought along as well. Brandt rolled down the window and smiled at the guard, though the man didn't return the favor.

"Привет там," (Hi there) Brandt smiled cheerfully.

"Что вы имеете в своем груз?"(What do you have in your cargo?) The guard asked, his eyes piercing into Brandt's.

"Просте оружием и боеприпасами."(Just weapons and ammunition.)

"Ah," the Russian replied and took an extra look into the empty cabin. Then he looked back to the guards and saw them nod. He turned back to Brandt. " Продолжить."(Proceed.)

"Вы имеете хорошего дня," (You have a nice day) Brandt said and nodded, pressing the gas as soon as the fence-gates opened. He exhaled the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Step one was cleared. But there were still so many steps to go.

Brandt parked the truck and went to the back and jumped in, rolling the flaps down so no nosy eyes could see what he was doing. He pulled out a small scanner from his back pocket and turned it on. A small red dot appeared on the screen and blinked steadily. Brandt got a good orientation as to where to find Williams, then took a gun in his empty holster and went out to search for his team leader.

Brandt switched between looking at the scanner and hiding from any guards that walked by in the hallway. The red dot was still as clear as day and Brandt was getting closer. He just had to find a staircase. He listened to every unmarked door he came by, making sure there was nobody in there before he took a look around. As he put his ear to one door and listened, he suddenly heard voices coming closer from down the hall. Panicking he opened the door he was leaned against and hid in there. To his luck the room was empty. But he still stopped short and almost forgot about the guards outside. "Oh my God …" he mumbled.

The room was dark and only lit by a small light-bulb in the ceiling. In the middle there was a table, with stacks of paper and the wall opposite the door was full of different kinds of pictures and notes, and a large map of Moscow was placed in the middle. Brandt's eyes locked on the pictures. Each and every one of them represented men, women and kids of various ages, who lay in hospital beds, their skin torn and bloody, covered in sweat. Some had oxygen masks on, while others had none. It was clear that half of the people on the pictures were dead, while the other half was dying. The notes attached had formulas where some of the structure that been crossed over and another structure had been added. Brandt realized what was going on. Jolan Kumaskoff had been testing his drug on people. And Brandt was looking at the results.

He swallowed, knowing he didn't have a choice: He had to destroy the base, because there was no way Kumaskoff could release his toxin in the capital of Russia.

He was suddenly glad for all the equipment he had brought from the safe house. Most of it was small and so he could have it in his pockets. After seeing the physical evidence of the Russian drug dealer's plan, Brandt had gone back the truck. There he had planted the heart of the explosion; A bomb from the IMF, and he was going to place as much chargers around the base as he could. He had had 10 chargers and was now only missing one. But before he could place it, he needed to find Williams.

He finally found the room they were holding him in. A man stood guard in front of the door. Brandt casually walked up to the man and said: "Hey man, wanna hear a joke? A Russian man walks into a bar …" The guard frowned at him and his fingers itched towards the trigger on his rifle. Brandt didn't let him respond in any way as he grabbed the automatic and slammed it into the man's nose. Then he grabbed a hold of his neck and slammed his knee into the man's stomach. While the guard was gasping for his breath, Brandt didn't hesitate and drove his fist into his face before he kicked him hard in the chest.

The guard collapsed to the ground and Brandt moved to the door. "Don't worry, I didn't get it either." He mumbled and took out his gun and aimed it into the room as he opened the door. As he entered he was immediately met with gunfire. He avoided the shot by rolling to the side and fired one himself. It landed square in the shooter's chest and he crumpled to the floor. Agent Donald Williams looked up from his position at Brandt with wide eyes. He was tied to a wooden chair, looking as worn down as ever. His nose was obviously broken, blood pouring from the nostrils, down his mouth; his wrists were raw from the ropes binding them and his face was full of small cuts. "Brandt?" he said, his voice full of confusion. The younger agent moved to the team leader and started to cut the ropes. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I should stop by," Brandt replied. "I've already called in the cavalry; so let's get you out of here." The ropes came off and Brandt took a hold of Williams and hauled him up. He draped his arm over his shoulder and started to guide him out into the hall.

"What about the mission? We can't just leave the base," Williams argued.

"Don't worry. I left them a little present; hopefully they won't get it before we are out of here," Brandt said and turned to a right, towards the exit he had seen when he had walked by. He took out a switch from his pocket and pressed the little button. They now had two minutes before the whole building would start to blow up.

Shouting could be heard behind them and Brandt knew it was only a matter of time before Kumaskoff figured out they had been breached and their prisoner was missing. He only hoped it would be when both agents were out of the base. But that hope faded when he rounded a corner and suddenly found himself face to face with Jolan Kumaskoff and his gun barrel. "Well, what do we have here," he said, smirking. "Two lost agents." Brandt's mouth went dry; he knew things had gone all too well. Sooner or later things had to go wrong. At that moment Brandt regretted breaking that mirror in the safe house. He could really use some luck right now.

"You didn't think I would let you leave, did you? Even if you manage to get by me, to which I might add if next to impossible, my men are surrounding the place. Your little 'Operation Snowstorm' hasn't been a success has it?" Brandt looked at him puzzled when he mentioned the name. How had he figured that out? By the looks of Williams, he hadn't told him anything.

Kumaskoff smirked when he saw Brandt's shock. "Ah, you don't have to worry. That was the only thing I could get out of your little friend here. I can see why you made him boss; he's very hardy." The drug dealer's smirk got even wider as he cocked the safety off.

But he didn't get any further as a loud boom sounded. It shook the entire base and the ground rumbled underneath all three men's feet. Another boom quickly followed and this time it threw them to the ground.

Brandt took the opportunity and went for the gun that had fallen out of Kumaskoff's hands and landed in front of him. Both men got a hold of the weapon. They struggled, swinging it back and forth as they rolled around on the floor. Suddenly Kumaskoff's elbow found Brandt's nose and the impact forced the agent to let go. Not hesitating, Brandt threw himself into the Russian to go out of the line of fire. Everything was a blur for Brandt as the ground shook again and limbs disappeared and reappeared in front of his vision. It all ended when he felt a poke on the left shoulder, heard a loud bang, followed by excruciating pain that burned down all the way down his arm and side. Kumaskoff rolled away with the gun in his hand, aiming at Brandt's head. Brandt grabbed his shoulder to stop the blood that was flooding from it freely and looked up at the drug dealer. He knew his end had come. Kumaskoff smiled at him almost saying that he knew it too.

But just as Kumaskoff was about to pull the trigger, a shadow knocked him into a wall and the gun slid out of his grasp. Williams could barely stand on his feet, but he managed to bend down and pick the gun up before he turned to the injured agent on the ground and reached out his hand. Brandt took it and struggled to stand up.

"Let's go," Williams said and with the two agents supporting each other, they walked out of the exit door.

Dark had fallen, but it only made the burning building they had ran out off much easier to see. Everywhere men were running out of every exit they could find, desperate to get away from the flames and falling concrete. Brandt looked to the sky as he heard chopper blades from the sky. At first he thought it was more of Kumaskoff's men, trying to assist, but as the chopper started to land on the clearing all he felt was relief. Several IMF-agents sprang out and ran through the snow towards the pair and escorted them back to their ride.

When Brandt was laid down on the chopper floor, all he wanted to do was sleep. Williams was safe, the base was destroyed and Jolan Kumaskoff was dead. Or at least he would be soon. As they flew over the snow covered forest, Brandt didn't take his eyes off the burning base. Not until it was out of sight. Exhaustion and pain grabbed a firmer hold and he was unable to stay awake anymore.

Present time - location: Plane, Atlantic Ocean.

Ethan, Benji and Jane all sat in silence. Benji sat his computer, trying to access every airport-system. If Brandt had taken a plane to anywhere, the tech would know. Jane sat in a chair, looking out of the window at the clouds that flew by, a file in her lap. Ethan sat leaned over the small table, studying the picture of Jolan Kumaskoff. Rapports, statements and various pictures were spread out all over the table. He had read and then reread everything he could about 'Operation Snowstorm' and from the way it had ended, the older agent had a pretty good idea who was behind the whole setup along with the breach at the headquarters. And judging from the pictures, he knew this wasn't going to be easy. The Russian drug dealer was a dangerous man, and now he was out for revenge.

Ethan dreaded what would happen to his agent. He made a mental promise to himself. He would find Brandt and eliminate Jolan Kumaskoff … for good this time.

End of chapter 4. Hope you didn't find it boring or confusing. I hope not! I really need you guys to review, because otherwise I have no idea whether or not you like this story! So review! :D