Author's Note:

First of all, sorry that it's taking me so long to update anything at the moment. I've got a new job, which I love very much, but that work is taking up most of my day.

Anyway…

Since I keep getting asked to please continue this story (I think I got everything from threats to bribes to begging etc. LOL), let's just say that I simply could not sit by idly anymore…I just had to give you something new, even if it's only a short chapter.

So, while I can't say when the next chapter will be up, please be assured that there are gonna be more chapters to come.

Enjoy! : o)

Chapter 11

a.k.a. There is Life After Death

For the briefest moment, Brandt was blinded by the muzzle flash as the sound of the shot echoed against the walls all around them.

But just as he expected to see Larson crashing to the ground with a neat hole in his head, Brandt realized that reality looked slightly different. He became aware that what he had thought to be a shot and an echo wasn't just that. There had been two shots.

And only one of them had been Ethan's.

The instant it took Brandt to come to that realization was the same second it took for him to see Ethan's right shoulder suddenly jerk forward, like something had kicked Ethan from behind. As Ethan was flung forward and slightly sideways, Brandt saw a flash of red on the back of Ethan's white shirt before Ethan went down hard.

And from what Brandt could see, Ethan stayed motionless where he fell, face down.

Instinctively relying on his training as an agent, Brandt immediately used all his senses to take in every possible detail to assess the new situation.

Judging by the small hole on the back of Ethan's shirt, which was slowly staining red across the shoulder, it looked like a bullet had caught Ethan from behind, high and fast, subsequently spinning him around and taking him down.

One thing was for sure: Ethan had been shot.

That left the question of one very important detail: shot by whom?

Brandt's first thought was Larson, which was why his eyes immediately refocused on Larson's form. But even as Brandt's attention shifted, he could see that Larson was not a likely candidate. For one thing, the man did not have a gun – Ethan had quite obviously disarmed him earlier on – and secondly, Larson was way too busy to even think about firing a gun. He was busy running.

In fact, Larson was so intent on putting as much distance between himself and Ethan that he wasn't even aware that his path was crossing directly with Brandt's – who merely had to reflexively grab on to Larson as the man tried to move past him. With a swift move Brandt grabbed a hold of Larson's jacket and swung him around, using the man's own momentum to bring him efficiently down on the floor, with Brandt's knee safely at Larson's back, so the man would stay exactly where Brandt wanted him to stay. Namely down and out of the equation.

Holding Larson safely to the ground with his knee, Brandt kept the muzzle of his handgun right on the man's neck to let him know he wasn't in the mood for any more games – which finally gave Brandt the time to look up again and towards where Ethan was down. He still had no idea where on earth that shot had come from.

But just as Brandt's eyes refocused – seeing Ethan still laying motionless on the ground and bleeding from the wound in the shoulder - Brandt noticed the shape of a second person just moving out of the shadows some way past where Ethan had stood. It was Luthor.

There was no haste to Luthor's moves. And considering that Luthor had his gun out but lowered, with a rather reluctant expression on his face, it did not take long for Brandt to understand what must have happened.

Luthor had been forced to take the shot. He had seen that Ethan was going do it, had realized that Ethan was gonna fire, and that Brandt would not be able to keep it from happening. So when Ethan's finger had tightened on the trigger, Luthor had waited until the last possible moment, until he was sure there was no other way – and he had fired just a millisecond before Ethan. As Luthor's bullet found its mark in Ethan's shoulder, it messed up Ethan's aim just enough to make Ethan's shot go wide – thus saving Larson's live.

It had been a risky shot for Luthor, as any bullet fired from such a close distance always packed quite a punch -– but Luthor's aim had been true.

As Brandt saw Luthor kneel beside Ethan, checking him quickly, Luthor's slow nod was all the confirmation Brandt needed. The shot may have knocked Ethan out in quite a drastic way, but the damage by the bullet itself was contained to a not life-threatening wound. One that, albeit most certainly painful, would not leave any lasting damage.

Not of the physical kind, at least.

As for the emotional damage…well, that was one whole other can of worms they would have to deal with. But that would have to come later. Much later. For now, Ethan was still unconscious. And for now, there were other things that needed their attention.

'Time to clean this mess up,' Brandt thought darkly.

Using the arm with which he wasn't holding his gun at Larson, Brandt raised the hidden microphone in his sleeve up to his mouth, and he put out a call to the rest of the team, to find out what their situation was.

"Benji? Jane? Anybody there?"

"Right here, at the container," Jane's reply was almost immediate, "but I heard shots. What's your situation?"

There was a definite touch of worry in Jane's otherwise professional voice.

Benji's reply was not far behind, both in terms of timing and concern:

"This is Benji, I'm with Jane, we're with the women at the container, and they are alright, I think. Did you guys find Ethan?" Benji's words almost poured out on top of each other, his nervousness getting the better of him.

Brandt knew he would have to say something, or Benji was liable to give himself a coronary from worrying.

"Well...," Brandt began, as he looked over to where Luthor was just putting some first-aid bandages on Ethan's shoulder to begin field-dressing the wound he had caused, "...we got the situation contained, and we got Larson, but I don't think Ethan will be too happy with us when he comes to..."

"Comes to?! What happened?" Benji immediately asked right back.

'Good question,' Brandt thought to himself, but any more answers would have to wait for now, for all of them.

"Later, Benji." Brandt summed it up with a heavy sigh, and while the words themselves sounded rather heartless, Brandt's voice clearly carried a tone of 'I'm sorry, I know you are worried, and so am I, but unfortunately we don't have time for this now.'

Brandt could well understand Benji's need to know what happened. Hell, he would probably react the same way, if he was in Benji's shoes. But there were other things more important at the moment.

"For now, let's see that we get this mess taken care of," Brandt began issuing orders, "We're gonna need some backup, so you better call in IMF so they can pick up those women. They need to be checked out and brought back to their families."

When Benji eventually replied after a short pause, Brandt could hear Benji's acceptance of what they both knew needed to be done.

"Yes...right...of course." Benji conceded, realizing that this had to be their main focus right now. Get the civilians home. Get Larson dealt with. And then… deal with Ethan. Or what was left of the man they knew as Ethan.

The only thing they could do for Ethan right now was to take him out of the line of fire as far as the IMF was concerned.

Neither of them had any doubts that once the IMF sent them the requested backup, there would be questions. Question that they and Ethan would have to answer. And if those questions were answered entirely truthfully by any of them, it would not bode well for Ethan.

There would be repercussions from IMF.

Serious repercussions.

But considering the state of mind that Ethan was likely to be in once he woke up, neither the IMF questions nor the likely consequences were going to help Ethan in any way.

And help was what Ethan needed right now. They may have lost Ethan's trust for good, but they would not feed him to the wolves. That much they all agreed on.

So, while Benji and Jane kept the official part of the operation well in hand, Brandt and Luthor began taking care of the not so official part. Brandt grabbed a hold of Larson, bodily yanking the man to his feet without any regards to the fine suit the man was wearing, and he pushed Larson ahead to move the man over to where the limos were still parked. Once there, Brandt did not hesitate to open the trunk – where Julio had already been safely stowed to stew – and he motioned for Larson to step forward.

"I think you two will fit nicely," Brandt motioned once with his gun, "And if you don't – well, tough luck. Either way, you're gonna bunk for a while."

Larson looked at Brandt incredulously, thinking that this had to be a joke. The look in Brandt's eyes, however, coupled with an unmistakable cocking of Brandt's gun assured Larson that Brandt was serious. Deadly serious.

Once Brandt had safely locked Larson and Julio in the trunk of the one limo, Brandt went back into the maze of corridors, where Luthor had meanwhile wrapped up Ethan's shoulder good enough for travel. Making sure not to jostle the injury too much, Luthor and Brandt gently picked up Ethan from the ground and together they carried him over to the other car, where they carefully put Ethan on the backseat.

Then Brandt looked up and over towards the container, from where Jane was just approaching him. And he came to a decision.

Handing the keys for the other limo, the one with Julio and Larson in the trunk, to Jane, Brandt left quick instructions with her to make sure the IMF took care of Larson and Julio. Brandt then left her and Luthor in charge of the scene. Without breaking stride, and knowing that Luthor and Jane would take care of things here, Brandt quickly walked over to where Benji was standing guard, a few paces away from them all near the entrance of the warehouse. Taking a hold of Benji's arm, simply tugging him along, Brandt quietly told Benji to grab some communication equipment and his laptop from the van outside, and to then get in the back of the limousine with Ethan.

The 'uhm, what are we up to?' look that Brandt received from Benji at that point was almost enough to make Brandt smile, despite everything. He kept forgetting that Benji was still new to the field – and that their resident computer-specialist still had to learn that, sometimes, you simply had to improvise and play by a different rulebook. Or, if need be, throw the book completely out of the window.

Taking a moment, Brandt took Benji aside to explain. He informed Benji that the two of them were going to take Ethan out of here before the IMF arrived. Take him some place safe, away from the IMF, until Ethan was ready to deal with this, and with them.

They owed Ethan that much.

Brandt knew he would need Benji's computer-skills to find an adequate hideout location for that purpose. They might need to hack into some FBI safe-house lists, or maybe arrange for some out-of-the-way motel reservations. Benji would also come in handy when it eventually came to contacting Jane and Luthor without the IMF finding out about it, so they could all rejoin once the coast was clear.

But if Brandt was honest with himself, he had to admit that there was one other, maybe even the most important reason why Brandt wanted Benji in the car with him and Ethan.

Brandt was fully aware that if Ethan woke up unexpectedly in the back of the limo before they reached their destination, there was a good chance that someone would get seriously hurt or killed. If Brandt were doing this alone, that someone would either be himself or Ethan. The same would hold true, if it was Jane or Luthor in Brandt's place.

But out of all of them, Benji was probably the only person that Ethan would not shoot on sight.

So, in a way, having Benji travelling along in the back with Ethan was not just helpful technology-wise, it was also a form of life-insurance for all of them.

As Brandt started the car and backed it out of the warehouse, he hoped they would make it to their destination safely.

He also hoped the rest of the team would rejoin them soon.

Driving in a car with an unconscious, injured, but not incapacitated Ethan Hunt – who by now probably thought them to be the enemy - was a bit like pulling the pin out of a grenade and carefully wedging it between two sturdy bookends, hoping that this would be enough to keep the trigger from releasing.

You could get lucky.

The trigger might not move.

But if things went wrong, and the trigger unhinged - there was no telling who might get hurt.

To be continued…soon. : )

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