Title: The Case of Déjá-vu

Chapter title: Any Other Day

Summary: Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, even if it costs him his life.

Author's note: Hi! I'm back with a new story :D It's been a long wait, but I'm back nonetheless!

This time the chapter titles come from Bon Jovi songs. The chapters are not really related to the songs; I just picked those that I thought sounded nice and kind of reflected my intention with the chapters. Also … Bon Jovi is awesome!

I hope you will enjoy this one as much as the first - Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Mission Impossible nor do I own anything you might recognize.

"It's better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles."

He had had a bad feeling about the whole mission to begin with. Throughout the planning, the location-scouting and the codename-making, the gnawing feeling in his stomach only increased until it was almost impossible to ignore. And as he was lying there, freezing in the cold mud that covered both his face and his clothes so he could blend in with the ground, that feeling hadn't subsided in any way.

Rain had recently ravaged the construction site so the ground had become soft and muddy with an occasional puddle here and there. Everywhere there were rusty pipes, cement-clusters, construction machines, large flamingo pieces, and dumpsters.

Agent William Brandt was lying in his stomach, covered in black so he couldn't be seen in the dark night, hidden between two houses; or what was going to-be-houses. They were still at an early stage, only consisting of cement lines showing the house's outer size. 15 yards in front of him stood more finished buildings, their exterior already built, while the interior was still nude with some isolation still sticking out from the ceiling.

And in one of those houses, a bit to Brandt's left, lights had been flickering and the building had been almost buzzing with life; at least buzzing if you were an IMF team looking for any kind of suspicious behavior.

Brandt shifted his position quickly to offer a short relief to his sore body. He had been lying there for six hours now, and the cold wasn't just on his underside now; it had moved to his whole body and stolen all his warmth. And though it was uncomfortable and he would rather be sitting inside his warm apartment then in the cool night, he had had worse and didn't try to warm himself up. He knew he would give away his position, and that was not something destined to end well for anyone.

A buzz filled the silent air as Ethan's voice sounded in his ear: "Thor, any activity?"

"Negative Odin. Plenty of activity, nothing suspicious though." Brandt answered. Why Ethan wanted to use Norse mythology to inspire code names he had no idea. But since there was no way around it, he was glad to be stuck with 'Thor', the god of thunder, whereas Benji got the name 'Baldur' who was the god of peace. He had complained for a long while, that he was now a field agent and not someone to sit back from all the action. He softened up eventually after he had been allowed to complain a bit though. Just as he always did.

"Any sign of the girl?" Ethan continued.

"No, but there is a surprising amount of gun-carrying men inside, so I think we are in the right place." He held a small pause, before continuing. "You know … I don't get why I am supposed to be the one lying out here in the middle of the night?" He complained silently, removing his binoculars for a second; he needed to focus on something else, even just for a second, and the only other thing he could do was talk to his teammates.

"Baldur is on surveillance, and Freya is establishing contact with Giovianni," Ethan reasoned.

"I thought we had an agreement; I was going to be the one seducing the rich guy on our next mission and then she could do the dirty work." Brandt continued.

"You guys are busting my concentration," Jane's hushed voice joined the conversation.

"Yeah, well, I'm knee-deep in mud, my ass is freezing and I can't feel my legs. You are not the one with the short end of the stick here." Brandt said and replaced the binoculars back to his eyes.

"You should be the next one to seduce the rich guy: you are bitching a lot, Brandt." Brandt could almost hear the smirk in Ethan's voice that was certainly planted on his face.

"I got nothing better to do. Seeing these guys drinking and playing poker lost its charm hours ago … Wait!"

"What? Spot anything?" The team leader's voice got tense and ready for action immediately.

"Nope; one of them just got a royal flush. Looks like the others are pissed about that; maybe they are even going to fight." Ethan sighed into the comm. in Brandt's ear, but the younger agent just smiled.

"If they use their guns it could grand us access, don't you think?" Benji suggested.

"Dammit, now they're laughing. So much for a little action," Brandt sighed.

"Keep looking; sooner or later they're going to either get careless or move the girl."

"If she's even there," Brandt sighed and adjusted the binoculars in his hands so his arms wouldn't go to sleep again.

Another hour passed by. Brandt's right leg had decided to go to sleep and the cold was starting to get the better of him. He was trained, like all IMF agents, to withstand and ignore such discomforts. But there was uncomfortable and then there was just pain. The numbness had started to spread throughout his body, and he knew he had to make his joints move; otherwise he would be no good to the little girl if something did happen during the night.

So he put down his surveillance-gear quietly and started to massage his numb leg, until he could feel the blood beginning to circulate again. It took him less than a minute, so he wasn't worried when he placed the binoculars in front of his eyes.

But when he fixed his sharp-trained, yet tired, eyes to their mission again, an icy feeling suddenly spread through his body and replaced the chilling cold of the night. One of the men from the house stood by the large window that filled almost the entire wall, which made spying on them a whole lot easier for Brandt. But he guessed it worked both ways now. The man stood completely frozen, his automatic weapon held loosely in his hands, and stared in the IMF-agent's direction. It seemed like he was staring Brandt right in the eyes.

Brandt didn't dare to move, in case the man was indeed watching him. He barely breathed, until he waited for the man to look away. Except he didn't. Brandt barely moved his lips when he whispered into his comm.: "Odin, I think I've been compromised."

"Are you positive?" answered Ethan's voice.

Brandt held his staring contest with the man. When he turned away from the window in a haste, Brandt swallowed, suddenly with a bad taste in his mouth. "Positive …"

"You need to get out of there now!" Ethan's voice had taken on a tone filled with a slight panic.

"What if they move the girl? Now that they know someone's spying on them they won't stick around," Brandt said. He had already started to collect his things, but he still kept an eye on the house. The men inside were yelling and making hand-gestures. It wouldn't be long before they moved out.

"We have the locations of the other safe-houses. You are no good to her dead," Ethan argued.

Brandt swallowed a single time when he saw three of the men picking up their weapons from a table and moved towards the door. "Looks like I don't have a choice," he mumbled into the comm. before packing down the binoculars in the small pack he had brought along.

"Brandt, be careful."

"Yeah, I'll try," Brandt answered quickly and slung the pack over his shoulders.

"Hey!" a loud voice called from in front of the house.

Brandt didn't stop or respond as he turned on his heels and started to run. He sprinted through the open construction site, jumping over small cement-clusters and trash left behind. Not once did he turn around. He knew his followers were close behind. He could hear their screams of "stop!" and "get him!" and knew if he stopped he would be caught or killed. "A little help would be appreciated," he breathed into the comm. unit. Why was this construction site so damn big and open?

"Hang on. Benji is on his way," Ethan answered.

"Tell him to hurry up!" Brandt quickly demanded.

Two gunshots rang out in the night and Brandt instinctively ducked: "Crap! Now they're shooting!" Bullets peppered his path and he dived behind an excavator and took out his gun.

"Five minutes out!" Benji's voice announced.

"Now would be better, Benji!" Brandt said while he fired several bullets at the men hunting him. They answered with their own spray and bullets rained upon the machine and ricocheted in wild directions. The IMF-agent kept firing back until his gun clicked empty and he cursed to himself. You better be on your way, Benji he silently pleaded before he hid his pack inside the excavator and took out the comm. unit in his ear and crushed it with his foot.

"Hold your fire!" he then yelled to the men. The bullets stopped coming and Brandt hoped it was a good thing. He tossed his empty gun into the line of fire first before he stood up and raised his hand over his head. "Don't shoot. I'm coming out!"

Taking a breath and hoping he wouldn't get shot, Brandt then stepped out with his hands still raised. The three men moved closer to him but still held their gun barrels aimed at him.

"Che cosa dovremmo fare con lui?"(What should we do with him?) one of them asked.

"Non lo so. Sia Luigi decider,"(I don't know. Let Luigi decide) another answered.

Brandt just looked at them as they carried on their little conversation as they talked about what to do with him. His Italian might not have been the best but he could pick up on some of the words and he decided to interfere. He didn't trust his language skills at the moment so he replied in English instead. "You know, I'm cool with whatever you guys choose. I would love to meet Luigi though," he smirked as they looked at him like he was an alien. Then they regained their composure and one of them walked behind him and poked his rifle into his back.

"Muoversi,"(Move) he ordered and Brandt obligated, though he kept his attention to the dark site's edges, hoping for a glimpse of a familiar face.

"Acknowledge," Ethan demanded into his comm. unit. The silence he received terrified the team leader. "Brandt, acknowledge!" He didn't though and Ethan was met with nothing but static.

Removing the finger from the small device in his ear, he ran a hand over his face and let out a frustrated sigh.

"How long, Benji?" he asked.

"Two minutes," the Brit answered.

"Okay. Do not approach; just make sure they don't move out. Wait for us to get there," Ethan said.

"Got it."

Ethan had to make a hard decision, but in the end he knew the choice wasn't difficult. It wasn't one the Secretary would applaud, but he wasn't Ethan Hunt for nothing. Therefore he tapped into his comm. one more time. "Jane, move out. We have had a change of plans."

There was silence for a few seconds before she replied. "What? Give me a few moments and I'll have him eating of my hands!"

"Stand down, Jane. And meet me in the parking lot in 10 minutes."

The living room inside the house was big, and only made bigger by the white color and the lack of furniture. The only things that were in there was a thin mattress stuffed away in a corner and a wooden table with three matching chairs. A deck of cards, a knife and a few handguns lay scattered on the table.

Aside from the three men that had escorted Brandt into the house, there were three more waiting for him side. They were all similar dressed with dark clothes and a thigh holster, containing a gun. Two of the men also carried assault rifles like the three men behind Brandt, while the last had a big black walkie-talkie in his hand instead. Brandt could only guess this was the leader of the group. And he was proved right, when he was escorted into the middle of the room where the man commanded in Italian and Brandt was then forced to his knees.

"So, you are the famous Luigi?" Brandt asked and looked up at the man. He was tanned and his long black hair was forced backwards, behind his ears, with hair gel.

"So you know my name, though I do not know yours?" Luigi answered and studied the agent before him. He clearly looked down on him, both literally and figuratively.

"You can thank your goons for that," Brandt smiled and nodded backwards.

"Aha. Why are you here?" Luigi asked.

"I just felt like taking a walk."

"I see. Did you take a tumble somewhere along on your little walk?" Luigi looked rather smug as he quickly scanned Brandt's filthy appearance and the mud clinging to his clothes.

Brandt huffed at the question and shrugged his shoulders, his still raised arms moving up and down. "Yeah, I regret not putting on some warmer clothes …"

"It is a good thing you didn't fell on your gun, hmm?" The Italian raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, you know … the world has become so dangerous lately," Brandt tried to keep his voice casual and keep the man talking. He just had to stall until the others would come.

Luigi opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the walkie-talkie in his hand buzzed with life and mumbled Italian words echoed in the silent room.

"I don't have time for this," Luigi said and raised his gaze to the two men that held Brandt down. "Lock him up. I'll deal with him later." Then he turned away from his newly-acquired prisoner and started to talk rapidly into the walkie-talkie.

The two men dragged Brandt to his feet and lead him away from the lit room and walked him towards a dark corridor to the left. Brandt started trashing and struggling to get free. But they had a firm grip on his arms and it was to no use. They stopped by a large and locked steel door.

Obviously not a part of the original structure, Brandt thought.

One of the men removed the lock bolt and pushed the door open. The IMF-agent suddenly stopped his fight to be released when he got a look inside. He froze completely. Inside sat a small brown-haired girl. She sat at the far end of the room, hugging her knees close to her chest. Her big brown deer-like eyes peeked out from her long frizzy hair, completely terrified of what was going on. Though it didn't look like she had been hurt physically, a fact Brandt was extremely relieved about, she had dirt all over her pink and purple clothes and her skin. Dried tears clung to her cheek and fresh ones lurked in the corner of her eyes.

Brandt had no doubt; he had found the missing girl. Now all he had to do was get her out of there, which was a statement easier said than done.

They were about to throw him into the room to join the girl, but a voice interrupted them from the living room.

"No, you incompetent idiots!" Luigi said and stalked with long steps towards them, his arms flying wild around his head, his walkie-talkie still in his hand. "When I say, lock him up, I don't mean lock him up with the girl! He was watching us, so do you think it would be smart to put him in the same room with the reason he was watching us for? Put him in the other room!"

Brandt wasn't even listening or paying attention as he stayed unmoving with his eyes never leaving the frightened girl's. She was obviously freaked out and scared of what was going to happen. He tried to calm her down and tell her that everything was okay, but judging by her terrified eyes he didn't manage to convince her.

When Luigi turned around and walked away in annoyance, mumbling cursing words about incompetence and bad employment, the two men holding Brandt started to dragged him away from the girl and further down the corridor where he could vaguely see the outline of another steel door.

Brandt suddenly panicked. His heartbeat started going faster, because all of the sudden this had just turned from a rescue mission to a protection detail. Quick snippets of the Croatia mission swirled around in his head; the bad feeling he had had the entire time; the news of Ethan's wife's death and the failure he had felt; the crushing guilt and devastation over having a part to play in the murder of her and the imprisonment of Ethan. All of it returned to him and overwhelmed him in such a way that he could not ignore it. And when he met the poor girl's eyes, he knew he could never fail like that again. He had reached a point of no return and he couldn't, or wouldn't, stop until she was safe in her father's arms again. He knew he was going to hate his decision for the rest of this mission, but he was going to hate himself for the rest of his life if he didn't make it. Now that he had found the girl he couldn't let her out of his sight.

So with a sudden burst of energy, to the surprise of his Italian captors, he banged his head into the man in front of him, leaving him disorientated enough to lose his grip on Brandt's arm. Then he turned his attention to the other one behind him. He slammed his elbow into the man's sternum, before taking a hold of his neck and forced his head downwards as he lead his knee upwards. When the two met, he heard a crunching sound as the nose broke. He then turned and blocked a punch coming from the first man. The man tried again, only to leave an opening for Brandt who gave him a fist in the face. But the Italian quickly returned the favor, faster than Brandt expected, and then sent him reeling backwards with a kick to the chest. But the agent was quick on his feet as he charged towards the man again, grapping a hold of his leg as the man tried to kick him again. He pulled the leg upwards and into himself, so the Italian was pulled towards him, and when he was close enough, Brandt elbowed him on the chin.

Before he could land another blow, someone grabbed him from behind in a bear hug. He struggled to get free but when the hold didn't loosen, he leaned his back backwards to gain momentum before he twisted forwards and slung the attacker over his back and smashed him into the floor in front of him. As he moved forward, the ground suddenly disappeared under his feet as a foot yanked his legs away and his landed on the floor, the back of his head hitting the ground hard. He was then turned to lie on his stomach while his arms were twisted behind him and bound with a plastic zip tie.

Grunting, Brandt was forced into a room similar to the one the girl was in. "Cerca lo!" (search him!) a voice ordered from behind. He was pushed against one of the walls and felt hands searching every part of his body to find hidden weapons he didn't have. He tried desperately to break free from their hold, kicking and twisting in every way his body allowed him to do, but they had him secured.

Then an arm came close enough to his face and he bit down on it, feeling the skin break and a metallic taste filling his mouth.

He felt a gun butt connect with the back of his head and it caused his forehead to collide with the wall in front of him. The muttered curse from the man he had just bitten was the last thing he registered before everything faded to black.

TBC

Yes, I know. So far it kind of resembles "Higher Stakes", but trust me! I have something far different planned for this time, so have patience! :D Until then, leave a review! You know, it makes me very happy!