Two days later, Ethan stared at the remains of a jump drive. For the first time, he wished he could watch an assignment video again, just to convince himself it was real.
But he couldn't, and there was no use wasting time wishing otherwise. Ethan dumped the now-useless bit of metal and plastic, not even heavy enough to be an effective paperweight, into a trash bin as he left the McDonald's where he'd stopped for breakfast after his morning run. He'd long ago given up wondering how the IMF seemed to be able to find him, even when he'd taken some pains not to be found.
Walking swiftly, Ethan pulled his cell phone from a pocket and sent three text messages in quick succession. He replaced it as he quickened his pace to a jog and then a full run. Just past dawn, not many people were out and about, and he easily avoided the few who were.
Why me? The question repeated in the cadence of his footsteps. Also for the first time, Ethan found himself considering refusing a mission.
Should you choose to accept it was standard language, and agents were free to refuse a mission for any reason at any time. Theoretically, refusing a mission would not be held against anyone who did. Practically, Ethan had only heard of two agents who'd refused missions in the entire history of the IMF. One had retired within six months of refusing. The other hadn't survived the next mission he'd accepted. Ethan didn't want to believe the two events were related.
There really was no other choice. If he didn't take the mission, another agent would - another agent who wasn't as good as he and his team were, who wasn't the best, and this mission demanded the best.
Ethan picked up his pace once again. He had only an hour to meet his team.
=X=
"The mission is Martin Bryce."
Ethan's words made Will flinch. Martin Bryce, who was engaged to Julia Mead Hunt - only she was Julia Dixon now, her new name only one of the many layers designed to keep her safe. What kind of perverse deity would think assigning this mission to Ethan Hunt was a good idea?
No deity, Will reminded himself. Just a new Secretary who doesn't know all the facts. Sheer bad luck and bad timing, that's all.
"Bryce?" Benji repeated. "Why is that name familiar?"
"He was in that article you talked about at the barbecue. Bryce Pharmaceutical," Jane replied.
"So what's he done to merit the IMF's attention?" Will asked, and steeled himself for the answer.
"Sold drugs," Ethan responded.
"That's not a lot," Jane said, her expression dubious. Will simply waited for the other shoe to drop.
"Designer drugs embellished with nanotech tracking devices," Ethan clarified. He paused to give his next words more weight. "Under contract from the U.S. government. The government uses these enhanced drugs to more efficiently track and combat the distribution networks."
"That's good, isn't it?" Benji asked. "Getting drugs off the street?"
"That's not how it'll look in the press," Will said. "It'll look like the government is, one, actively selling drugs to the drug dealers and, two, using unauthorized surveillance on its own citizens."
"A P.R. disaster if it gets out," Ethan agreed.
"So what's the mission?" Jane asked.
"The first shipment of these drugs is going out in two days. We're supposed to intercept it and switch out the nano-drugs with untreated ones," Ethan said. "That way, they won't register on the tracking devices, the plan will be considered a failure, and it will quietly go away."
Will let himself relax. The mission had nothing whatever to do with Julia. They'd never have to come within a hundred miles of her and her new fiancé. He knew Ethan was even more relieved than he was, even if Ethan's expression didn't show it.
"The most vulnerable point along the shipping route is through southern Mexico," Ethan said, and Will focused on the plan his commander outlined. Time to do or die, now, not brood over things that couldn't be changed.
=X=
Although he'd been accused of favoring it too often, Ethan had always found misdirection far more forgiving than confrontation. At the very least, misdirection wasn't as life-threatening as confrontation, which helped explain why Ethan was still one of the IMF's top agents after fifteen years in the field and most of his co-recruits had long retired or sought support roles.
The mission to Palenque, Mexico, was yet another opportunity to avoid confrontation, and hopefully live to fight another day.
Ethan sat in the driver's seat of a canvas-covered truck much like the one transporting Bryce's doctored drugs, carefully concealed behind a camouflage screen along the side of the road. His truck was loaded, too - with standard heroin to replace the load being sent from Bryce Pharmaceuticals. Why IMF had access to such a large stash was another in a long series of questions Ethan had long ago decided not to ask. Contemplating such things could make a man crazy.
Across the road from him, Will sat in an identical truck behind an identical screen, except Will's truck was empty, waiting to receive the doctored goods when they were offloaded from the transport.
A hundred yards south of their position, Benji waited for the transport truck and the moment to activate the electronic camouflage that would hide their activities from the truck driver. Half a mile north of them, Jane played lookout.
"Status?" Ethan asked.
"Bored." Benji's voice came through his earpiece.
"Better bored than dead," Will retorted.
"I don't see them yet," came Jane's report. "They must be running behind schedule."
"Who wouldn't, on these roads?" Benji asked. "I suppose you could call them paved, but only if you have a very loose definition of paving."
Twenty minutes later, Jane spoke again. "I'm hearing gunfire - a lot of it."
"Are you compromised?" Ethan snapped.
"No, it's coming from north of me. Hard to tell how far in this jungle. Going to investigate."
Ethan bit back a reminder to be careful. She was as qualified as any of them, had proved her worth and skill on numerous missions since this team had formed. Must be hardwired to want to keep the female of the species safe, Ethan mused while he waited for her next report.
"Guys - get up here. Now."
"Go," Ethan told Will, whose empty truck would move faster. "Benji, haul ass up here."
"Coming," Benji reported.
Minutes later, Ethan pulled to a stop behind Will's truck, and he and Benji climbed out. Past the truck, they found a dozen dead men and the remains of a truck.
Jane strode toward them. "They were ambushed," she said. "It looks like they unhooked the truckbed and hitched it to another truck."
"They can't have gotten too far," Benji said. "Not on this road. We can catch up with them -"
Will's voice cut across Benji's plan. "These guys are good."
Ethan picked his way through the bodies to where Will crouched studying the cab. "How so?"
"See this?" Will indicated the driver's side tire. "Shredded, not shot. You can see part of the metal still embedded in the rubber. And these footprints -" Will stood. "They made the truck stop by puncturing the tire. Then, when they were focused on the repair, the ambushers killed them and took the drugs."
"Great," Jane said. "We got here in the middle of a drug war between rival factions."
"I don't think so," Will said. "Most of these guys look local. But take a look at this one." He led the way to the far side of the road, and one body that had fallen several meters from the rest. Will toed the man's wrist, exposing a stylized "S" tattoo.
"That's a mark of the Syndicate," Benji said.
"Pros," Will agreed.
"But what would the Syndicate want with heroin?" Jane asked.
"Not the heroin," Ethan said, with that starburst of clear certainty that marked his hunches. "The nanotech tracking devices."
"Even more reason to catch up with them," Benji said.
"And do what?" Will asked. "We're not armed for that kind of fight. Besides, they've probably already broken the drugs up into smaller packages. They'll be damned hard to find."
"Impossible to find," Ethan corrected. "If there's one thing they know how to do, it's blend in locally."
"So. What now?" Jane asked.
There was only one thing to do, even if Ethan's stomach rebelled at the thought. "We have to find out how the Syndicate knew to be here, and what they plan to do next."
"And how are we going to do that?" Benji demanded.
"Only one way." Will sounded resigned, and Ethan read the same dread certainty that he felt in Will's expression.
Ethan managed a nod. "Infiltrate Bryce Pharmaceutical."