Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

Chapter 9

A half hour later, the door to the hotel suite opened, and Shannon entered. Grant looked up from his computer and smiled his greeting. Shannon did not acknowledge or return his smile, instead sinking down into a chair with a heavy sigh and closing her eyes.

Grant 's smile faltered for a moment. "You okay?"

Shannon opened her eyes and looked at Grant. "That was the most difficult and emotionally exhausting thing I have ever done."

"I'll bet," Grant agreed empathetically, then his smile returned. "But you were terrific."

Shannon's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Grant, she's been through so much! We have to help her!"

Grant got up from his computer chair and walked over to Shannon, putting his arms around her as she started to sob quietly. "I know," he soothed. "We will."

Shannon laid her head on Grant 's strong shoulder for a moment, then withdrew from the embrace with an appreciative smile.

"The gang checked in while you were gone," Grant said softly. "I told them we'd link up and fill them in when you got back."

Shannon looked at Grant, her eyes still pink from crying. "Grant," she pleaded, "I, um...I need a minute."

"Sure," he replied understandingly. Take all the time you need. Let me know when you're ready."

After about twenty minutes, Shannon emerged from the bathroom, looking refreshed. She nodded to Grant, and he fired up his computer to begin the web conference.

After exchanging greetings, Grant and Shannon brought the others up to date on what Shannon had learned from Michelle. Shannon did the majority of the talking, but Grant was there for support. In fact, Grant was the one who explained about Michelle's miscarriage, for Shannon became overcome with emotion and couldn't bring herself to say it.

When they were finished, there was silence for a few seconds.

"Bastard," Nicholas practically spat the word out of his mouth in disgust.

"Second that," Max chimed in.

"I think we all agree with you, pal," said Grant.

"And this is the kind of man the West wants to run Sergozia?" demanded Nicholas.

"Well, nobody knows the truth about Labon Zumari except Michelle...and now the five of us," reminded Jim.

"True," conceded Nicholas, his eyes flashing fire, "but now that I know, I don't think I can support that part of the mission."

"I understand how you feel, buddy," Grant said gently, "but you have to remember what's going to happen if Zumari doesn't win the election."

"Yes. Sergozia will go back to being a dictatorship," agreed Jim.

"And locking up prisoners whenever they feel like it," Max added, his mind on the POWs that Jim had promised him they would rescue before the mission ended.

"The very sort of oppression thatMichelle has worked so hard to fight," declared Shannon. "She may hate how he's treated her, but she wholeheartedly supports his political agenda."

"But still," Nicholas persisted, "she can't be thrilled that the man who assaulted her and killed their unborn child is about to take office-"

"It's what she wants, Nicholas!" Shannon interrupted, surprising herself at the force and volume of her words. "She made that clear. To deny her that, after all of her work and all she's been through, is like a slap to the face."

A shudder went through her body at her friend's mention of the miscarriage, and Grant laid a steady hand on her back in consolation.

"I get that," responded Nicholas, his voice a tad softer this time, "but isn't there someone else from Zumari's camp who can lead?"

"In two days?" Grant returned. "Because, basically, that's all we have until the election, and it's taken them four years to get this far."

Jim, sensing that the circular argument could go on and on without some intervention, walked over to lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Nicholas," he said gently, "we all appreciate how you feel about this one. But if we tip our hand with what we know about Zumari, we blow the election completely and rekindle the civil war."

"And place other lives at risk," Max put in.

"This is the only way," stressed Jim. Then he stopped talking until Nicholas, who'd been averting his eyes, looked up and caught Jim's gaze. "Nicholas," Jim said softly, "I don't like this any more than you do, but we still have work to do, and we need your help."

Nicholas hesitated. He was still frustrated that a man like Zumari would be escaping punishment, but he could not let his friends down. Finally he signed and nodded faintly. "All right."

Jim's hand gave a light squeeze where it rested on his shoulder, and Max flashed him a smile of relief and understanding.

"Thank you, Nicholas," whispered Shannon, her voice teeming with a combination of respect for his position and gratitude that they still had his commitment.

"So what about Michelle?" Max inquired. "How do we help her get away from Zumari?"

"She's terrified that he will come looking for her," answered Shannon. "So whatever we come up with has to take that chance out of the equation."

"And we can't bring her back here to face him again," Grant observed. "Not now that she's safely away."

"We have to get her a new identity." Nicholas was back to the mission now, his brain, as usual, working at breakneck speed. "It's the only thing that will tie up all the loose ends and keep him from finding her." He looked askance at Grant. "Can you pull that off?"

Grant flashed a grin. "Are the summers hot in Sergozia?"

Max rolled his eyes, remembering that stuffy uniform he had been in while undercover. Grant saw the gesture and recalled the same…as well as the scary way Max's undercover assignment had ended. "By the way, Max, how are you feeling?" he asked quickly.

"I'm good, Grant," Max responded with a slight smile, his cheeks flushing just a bit.

"We'll have to ask Michelle how much of a new identity she wants," mused Shannon. "She has that social work education and she's so passionate about her advocacy; she may want to keep that."

"I can take care of it," Grant nodded.

"Jim," Max questioned, "both sides of the election are going to be asking for an explanation for Michelle's disappearance, especially if she doesn't come back home. So how are we going to make that work?"

"That's a good question, Max," replied Jim. "It has to be something permanent, that can explain the fact that she's been gone for an entire week."

"And something that both sides can experience firsthand, otherwise they will never believe that the opposition didn't have something to do with it," Max mused.

"I may have an idea," said Grant, with a hint of craftiness in his voice. "But you guys will have to wait for us to get back to do most of it."

"That will give us exactly one day until the election," observed Nicholas.

"We will certainly have our work cut out for us," stated Jim. "I guess we'd all better rest up while we can."

"There is one thing you can do while you're waiting for Shannon and me," Grant said teasingly. "And it sounds like a job for Max."

"What's that?" Max responded, a crooked grin curling his face.

"Steal a taxi."

The next morning, Shannon placed an early telephone call to Michelle Zumari's room. She wanted to let her new friend know that Grant would be coming along with her today.

Knowing how victims of domestic abuse can sometimes be skittish about strangers, especially of the opposite gender, Shannon did not want Michelle to be unpleasantly surprised.

Grant's identification and cover story about being Carla Smith's supervisor passed the receptionist's test as easily as Shannon's had the day before – and without the attempted telephone verification. She did not even question the briefcase that Grant was carrying in his hand.

Shannon knocked softly at the door, and Michelle welcomed them both warmly. As Shannon suspected, Michelle verified that, yes, she did want a new identity, but she would really like to keep her social work background. Grant reached into his briefcase, extracting a file folder filled with documents he had laboriously put together the evening before.

"This is all you'll need to start your brand new life," smiled Grant. "New birth certificate, Social Security card, passport, and a dossier so impressive that you'll be a shoo-in for any counseling job you should choose to apply for."

Michelle looked breathlessly at the papers in her hand, scarcely daring to believe what she was seeing. "Oh, my God," she gasped. "Is this for real?"

"It's real," Shannon assured her. "You don't ever have to go back there again. And he will never be able to find you."

Tiny tears began to trickle down Michelle's cheeks. "Thank you feels so inadequate for all that you have done, but it's all I know to say." A pause. Then, "Is it okay if I hug you both?"

Michelle stepped into the embraces of first Grant, and then Shannon. As she withdrew from Shannon's arms, Michelle met her eyes and whispered quietly. "Something tells me you're not really Carla Smith, but that's okay. I don't know who you are, how you found me, or why, but I will never forget you."

Shannon smiled at Michelle through the tears she could no longer hold back. "My real name is Shannon," she answered.

"Shannon," Michelle repeated. "It's so nice to meet you."

"So what's next for you?" Shannon asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Michelle sighed. "The world is my oyster now. I'll probably hang around here a day or two and figure out where I'd like to go."

"Well, take care of yourself, Rebecca," Shannon smiled, placing a slight emphasis on her new name.

'Rebecca' smiled back. "I will. You, too. And thank you again."

The women shared one final embrace, and then Shannon and Grant left for the airport to catch a plane back to Sergozia. They had a mission to finish.

tbc...