CHAPTER SEVEN

Before it was time to crash the White Widow's party, the team had dinner together in their safehouse. They acted as though everything was fine, but anxiety was high. Ethan and Ilsa met again on the roof, though now they had the stars above them. It was much like their night together in London, and they wanted to make the most of it.

They recounted some of their crazier stories from their years apart. Afterwards, there was a period of quietness where they merely held each other. It led to a single, light kiss. That spiraled into another and another. Before they knew it, they were making love on that rooftop. They didn't want it to end.

Instead, they went back into their safehouse as if nothing had happened. They dressed in their most appropriate outfits. Ilsa loved seeing Ethan in that suit. She helped him button his cufflinks before he zipped her coat. It was off to their boat next.

They sat on their gondola as trepidation built. Both felt the weight of their mission on their chests. As confident as Ilsa was, there was no way of knowing what could happen. Ethan found that his main concern was not himself or what could happen with the White Widow. His concern was Ilsa.

He looked over at Ilsa who provided a comforting smile. He reached out to take her hand. She held onto it, and his wrist, with soothing strokes of her thumb. They did not need to speak. Their connection was unbreakable and automatic.

They entered their target together. Upon arriving, they met with several interested parties. The White Widow was there with her ever protective brother. Grace, the keeper of the other half-key, was also there. Not to mention Gabriel and his people. The conversation was harsh, but the harshest part was when Gabriel said that either Grace or Ilsa would die by the end of the night.

Though he didn't know the thief called Grace well, Ethan didn't want an innocent woman to die. Ilsa did not seem fazed by Gabriel's threat. However, this threat was about to become very real.

A scuffle started. Ethan turned to Ilsa. "Run. Run as far as you can."

Ilsa thought about staying, but she remembered their conversation on the rooftop. They couldn't let their personal feelings interfere with this mission. Thus, she did not argue. She ran.

In the chaos, Grace was gone and so was Gabriel. Ethan decided to pursue Gabriel, but The Entity had other plans. It took control of Ethan's connection to Benji and Luther, impersonating Benji to lead Ethan astray.

Gabriel was waiting for Grace or Ilsa on a bridge. When Grace appeared, Gabriel attacked her. It was around this time that Ethan learned it wasn't Benji on the line at all. The Entity warned him that Gabriel was on the bridge with Grace, and it told him that he couldn't make it in time.

It connected with Ilsa, telling her that she could.

Ilsa was on the run when the voice came to her. She halted in the streets of Venice to think about her next move. Like Ethan, she didn't know Grace. Yet, she couldn't let an innocent person die. Not if she could help it. So, she turned back and rushed to the bridge. That's where she saw Gabriel attacking Grace.

He spun about to face Ilsa. A grin came to him. "I hoped it would be you."

Ilsa went on the attack with a long blade. Their scuffle was not only intense but a sight to behold. Their skills were matched, though Ilsa got in a few good licks. However, he came at her with a knife. The knife plunged into her chest, directly over her heart.

She grew limp in his arms with wide eyes. There was no whimper of pain, merely a quiet breath. Gabriel dropped her body to the ground. Her gaze remained open and unmoving. He smiled at his victory. Ilsa Faust was dead. He could leave that bridge knowing he had stabbed Ethan Hunt in the heart too.

Ethan was on his way to the bridge. He ran faster than he thought possible. Please, let them be alive. Let Ilsa be alive…

He skidded to a stop on the bridge. Ilsa was lying on the ground. He could see the knife sticking out of her chest, and her eyes were open and still. Shattered, he staggered to her side and placed a hand on her arm.

That's when he saw it. Ilsa had given him the smallest wink. At that moment, Grace limped over to them. Grace looked down, gulping. "Is she dead?"

"Yes," Ethan said.

Grace, horrified, faced away from Ilsa. Ilsa let herself blink to wet her tired eyes. Then, she was stone again. Ethan went to Grace, keeping her turned away from Ilsa's body.

"We need to get to a secure location," Ethan told Grace. He quickly removed his jacket and put it over Ilsa's face and torso. He lifted Ilsa into his arms. "Come with me. There are other people out here who will finish you off, and Ilsa isn't here to save you now."

A reluctant Grace followed Ethan to an unoccupied boat. Ethan kept Ilsa's body with him as he hotwired the engine. He took them back to the safehouse where Luther and Benji were waiting on pins and needles. Grace entered first. Then, Ethan came in with Ilsa's covered body.

"Dear God," Benji muttered. "Ilsa. Is she…"

"What do you think?" Ethan growled.

Luther and Benji watched as Ethan took Ilsa's body to the bedroom he was using. Once he was there, he put Ilsa on his bed. He ripped back his jacket and Ilsa took a deep breath. Ethan looked at the knife to see how bad the damage was.

"Don't move," Ethan whispered as he yanked the knife out.

Luckily, Ilsa had worn a heavy corset beneath her clothes for extra protection that night. The knife hadn't gone deep enough to inflict any serious damage. Her death had been nothing more than elaborate act to fool Gabriel. Gabriel was arrogant enough to believe he had killed her without checking for a pulse.

"I'm okay," Ilsa muttered as Ethan doctored the shallow wound. "Gabriel thinks I'm dead. I sold it."

"I thought you were dead," Ethan returned. He readily embraced her. "No one can know that you're alive. No one."

"I know. We need Gabriel to believe that I'm gone. He'll believe he has the upper hand. It'll also allow me to help you undetected," Ilsa said.

Ethan considered this. "The Entity is everywhere. We can't use most technology."

"There's a place in Sweden where I hide out. Trust me when I say nobody could find me there. The address is Ålfiskaregatan 67, 387 37 Borgholm. You can communicate with me through the post. Keep me informed and tell me what you need me to do."

"Stay away from official stations and anywhere you could be picked up on a camera. No phones. No computers. Not unless you're positive you can't be hacked. If The Entity figures out that you're alive—"

"It won't," Ilsa said.

Ethan nodded and gave her a farewell kiss. "Move fast."

"I will. Be careful, Ethan."

Like a wisp of smoke, Ilsa left through the safehouse window. Ethan watched her drop into the water of the canals and vanish. She always was fantastic in the water. He remembered watching her leave her pool in Casablanca, wearing that black bikini. The smile she gave him when he held up her lipstick, and flash drive, was fresh in his mind.

I almost lost her, he thought to himself. Now, he had to act like he had. I'll tell them I want to say goodbye to her alone. I can roll up the blankets as if she's in them and take them away on the boat. I'll say I've put her in the water. There's no time to have a proper funeral. I can tell them that we'll have a service after the mission is over.

In the streets, Ilsa stole a motorcycle and clothes from somebody's line. She hid her face in the motorcycle helmet. It'd be enough to obscure her from the highway cameras. From there, she'd have to leave Italy undetected. That was child's play for a ghost like her.

She knew she could escape. It was Ethan that she was worried about. They were going to have a long road ahead of them, yet she was determined to be there at the end. Gabriel would pay for his crimes, and he'd never see her coming.