2

Salamander

Ethan Hunt let out a long breath, watching it crystallise in front of him. He was bored. He had been waiting for at least two hours now.

He glanced up at the moon. It shone brightly, giving the landscape around him an eerie glow. As if it needed it. It was a particularly unforgiving environment.

He was somewhere in the middle of Northern Russia. He was here on assignment. It was simple enough – there was a meeting arranged between Russian Separatists and the Russian Mafiya. Apparently, some money was going to change hands, as well as some brand-new weapons. His mission was to ensure that he recovered those weapons, so they didn't fall into the wrong hands.

A crackle in his ear made him jump. He then realised it was only the tiny microphone that he had stuck in when he landed in Russia.

He now heard a voice in the microphone. "Good evening, Mr Hunt. I'm overseeing this operation."

He sighed. It was Salamander.

His real name was Seymour Wray, but everyone called him Salamander, on account of him being small, slimy, and unattractive. He was usually in charge of operations that took place well outside of the USA, so it was no surprise that he was running this one.

Salamander continued speaking. "Mr Hunt, I trust you understand the importance of this mission?"

Ethan shrugged. "I just do my job. That's all."

"Listen to me, Ethan. This is very important. We don't know what sort of weaponry is being exchanged here, but we have heard rumours that it is revolutionary, cutting-edge stuff. If we could get our hands on it, it may even replace the nuclear warhead!"

Ethan snorted. "Please. I'm supposed to be buying something that fits into a briefcase. It's not a nuclear bomb."

"Your disguise is okay, then?" inquired Salamander.

"As per instructions, I have acquired the face and voice of the leader of the Separatists, Mikhail Volanakov. You dealt with the rest of them?"

"Don't worry," said Salamander, and Ethan could tell that he was smiling. "The Separatists won't be showing up tonight."

"Why couldn't you have given me a precise time?" complained Ethan. "I've been here for two hours now!"

"You know why. We can't take any chances with this assignment."

Just then, Ethan heard the sound of an engine approaching. "There're here," he said.

Salamander paused for a moment, and then said, "Okay. I'm watching you on the satellite image. Do what you've been trained to do."

There was a click, and Ethan was left by himself. But not for long. A Jeep appeared out of the gloom. It drove up to Ethan's car, and stopped. Ethan patted his hip, checking his gun was still there, and got out.

There were three of them. The one in charge, who Ethan recognised as Vladimir Petravich, walked up to him and embraced him. Ethan returned the embrace, but without enthusiasm.

"You have the weapons?" he asked, in Volanakov's voice.

"You have the money?" asked Petravich.

Ethan reached into his jacket, and handed Petravich an envelope. Petravich checked inside it. It was full of money. He rifled through it, checking they were all genuine. Finally, he nodded, and turned to the other two. "Get the weapon," he snapped.

"Just one?" said Ethan. "I thought we were getting more than that."

Petravich smiled at him, and said, "Wait and see, my friend."

His two friends had gone around to the back of the Jeep. They returned with a small attaché case.

"That's it?" Ethan asked incredulously. How could that small thing contain any sort of power?

"Watch this." Petravich opened the case, and pulled out a single test tube, containing a dark red liquid.

Ethan was suddenly wary. Was he dealing with biological weapons here? Ethan had had a bad experience with them in Australia a while ago.

To his horror, Petravich opened the test tube. Petravich saw his reaction, and said, "Do not worry. This is not some sort of disease, or toxin. Allow me to show you."

He put his finger over the end of the tube, and up-ended it. Then he replaced the lid of the tube. He now had a small amount of the liquid on his finger.

Petravich walked over to Ethan's car, and smeared the liquid onto the door. He then walked back over to the Jeep. "Stand back," he cautioned. Then he raised a gun, and shot the car door.

The entire car exploded. It was extraordinary – one second, it was a reasonably nice Jaguar that Ethan had been lent while he was in Russia. The next, it was simply a fireball, blazing and illuminated the area.

Ethan turned to Petravich. Petravich was now pointing the gun at him. The other two guys were already in the car, and had started the engine.

"Well done," said Petravich. "You are one of the first people to witness the power of this new weapon. Now, take this message to your people: we have Firestorm. Tell them that. And also, tell them that we will not discuss terms. What we ask for is what we will get, or else we will be forced to take action."

Petravich got into the car. The engine revved, and it took off. Ethan acted quickly. He drew his gun, and shot at the Jeep. A howl of pain told him that he had found his mark, and one of the two guards slumped in his seat.

But then the Jeep was gone, and Ethan was alone in the middle of nowhere with only the remains of his car to keep him warm.