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Ethan Hunt was summoned to a council meeting early in the morning. He was fully expecting to hear either political nonsense or a grab-n-go mission. Or quite possibly, both. The government was still attempting to mop up the events caused by Solomon Lane's Apostles. Ethan was rarely, if ever called to such hearings. Typically, they would be leaving the chatter up to the agency's office representatives.
Something serious must have been brewing for them to call the man himself into a council hearing.
The council went through introductions and discussed a few points in intelligence that the desk jockeys would be more than happy to take care of. However, once the formalities had been issued, Ethan's attention immediately went from idling through semi-important points to 100% focus.
"Mr. Hunt, we are aware that you have connections to an asset by the name of Ilsa Faust," the lead councilman stated. "Faust is a dangerous woman. A woman who lived with no identity, undercover, to one who wishes to once again work for British intelligence. No matter her status: she is a security risk. Ms. Faust expressed a desire to prove her loyalty to MI6, but it would appear that in her endeavor to do so, she obtained sensitive information. She has not come in willingly."
We are never free. Ethan was reminded of Ilsa's words from when they met in the garden in Paris just months prior. He couldn't dwell on it if he wanted to keep his mind clear, but Ilsa had spoken the truth. The life of a spy meant a life of being controlled constantly. The word "normal" hardly existed for them.
If what the council stated was true, Ilsa had some information worth saving. But, she had been disavowed. She had no obligations to take orders from any agency. Could it be possible she was being set up? Unfortunately, Ethan and Ilsa each knew first-hand about facing a setup.
Regardless, Ilsa was a high priority target to capture thanks to her life as a long-time undercover agent. The council was right to not underestimate her strengths. Ethan would give them that.
"We also know that because of your ties to Ms. Faust, you are the most qualified agent to capture her. Your job is to find out what she stole and bring her in for testimony, using any means at your disposal. If anything takes a turn for you, our extraction team will be ready."
Of course, what the councilman had meant by "extraction team" would be the equivalent of a fireteam. Full intention to militarize and shoot if something looked even slightly off to them. Ethan had to beat that team to London.
"I will leave the remainder of this jurisdiction to your IMF secretary." The lead councilman sat back slightly, indicating he was finished for the moment. Slowly, the members and witnesses started talking amongst themselves and dismissed the room.
Ethan glanced over to the newly appointed Secretary, who gave him the 'all clear' nod and Ethan stood. He quickly scurried down the hall and out to the parking area.
No self-destructing message devices, nothing to hide. From this moment forward, the CIA were tracking his every move. At least, they would be until Ethan found a way out of it, as he usually did. While waiting for transportation to the airport, he used a burner phone from the Secretary to look up agency safe houses in the London area.
The phone lit up with a map of safe areas for active agents. Ethan furrowed his brows as he looked over the locations, not because he didn't think he could find Ilsa, but because he was not sure what he'd say to her once he arrived. If he timed it right, Ethan could get himself and Ilsa out of the way of his 'backup' with little trouble. He was going to take every chance he could get to ensure positive results. Obtaining the materials the agency wanted, and keeping the both of them alive.
Ethan looked up when he heard someone calling out to him. He made eye contact with two service agents, who would escort him to the Washington Reagan Airport. Ethan sighed, tucked his phone away and followed them into a car. There was no turning back now.
••••
A little more than seven hours later, Ethan made his way from his passenger terminal to the rental car station. He picked out a silver BMW as plotted by the agencies and dropped some cash with the attendants. As of right now, Ethan had a short two-hour window where monitoring would be minimal to nonexistent. Two hours to locate Ilsa and make a plan.
Looking at his phone and disabling outside connections, Ethan pulled up the map of safe houses again. He drew up a facial recognition program and started scanning. The program pinged a few times. It was something to start on. Ethan set the phone aside and started the car.
The last sliver of the sun was just dropping under the horizon as Ethan drove away. He glanced in all his mirrors out of instinct. Confident he wasn't being followed, Ethan proceeded to follow the route to the first likely safe house.
••••
The woman walked confidently. It did not appear like she had anything to hide, nothing that would openly concern the general public, anyway. Her boots and dark coat sleeked her thin, athletic figure as she moved along. She paused for a brief moment under a street lamp and pulled a small hard drive from her pocket. She only looked at it for a second before concealing it again, keeping her hand on it.
Ilsa continued walking along the parkway. She took note of the dimming sunlight and the first purple waves of night entering the sky. She was almost to the bungalow she had been staying in. It stood between warehouses and a structure of apartments with other temporary buildings just like it. The yellow porch light provided just enough visibility to allow her to step up to the door of the bungalow.
Ilsa took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. She locked it up behind her and walked to the kitchenette on the left side of the bungalow. She turned on a light and set down the hard drive she was carrying. Ilsa took her coat off and was about to hang it up when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Where'd you get that drive?" A man's voice gestured towards the black stick that lay on the mini kitchen island. Ilsa turned to see a dark silhouette in the doorway between the bed hall and the kitchen.
"Oh, from another mildly dangerous escapade," Ilsa replied. The voice she heard was firm but non-threatening. It had surprised her, but the familiarity kept her from drawing a weapon. Ilsa kept looking in the direction of the doorway. That's when Ethan Hunt slowly stepped into the light and joined her in the tiny kitchen area. "Fancy seeing you here." Ilsa quipped with a little smile.
"Likewise," Ethan sighed and looked down. He took in a breath before lifting his eyes to meet hers. "Ilsa..." was all he could get out. She understood. He was not here by accident.
"Did they send you to kill me?" Ilsa asked. She remained stoic in her overall expression. Her eyes, however, betrayed the tough façade she was trying to hold up and she knew Ethan could see right through it.
Ethan shrugged slightly. "They left it up to me, depending on how cooperative you are." He sighed downwards before meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry, Ilsa."
Ilsa tightened her features in thought. "It's not your fault." She slowly walked over to the counter, where she ran her fingers over the hard drive. "Working undercover with terrorists for as long as I did painted me in a bad way."
"It doesn't have to." Ethan smirked, but it wasn't his usual flirty smirk. Like Ilsa, his eyes betrayed the expression he held on his face. The little hints of sorrow he felt for being assigned to the mission, having to potentially bring his love to an unknown fate. One where he may never see her again.
"Tell me about the flash drive. Why'd you get back in after being disavowed?"
Ilsa sighed. "I don't know what's on it. I was given a job and I took it. MI6 seemed adamant that there was sensitive information on it, but, I can't decide if giving it to the government is a good idea or not." She inhaled and stood up tall. "So, what will it be, Mr. Hunt?"
Ethan walked up to the counter opposite of where Ilsa was standing. It created a barrier, though he knew she had no intention to hurt him. And Ilsa knew Ethan wouldn't intentionally hurt her, either.
"The way I see it," he finally spoke. "you have three choices."
Ilsa raised her brow with interest after hearing him say that. The same line she had used around the time she met Ethan in the train station during the initial Syndicate takedown operation all that time ago. Ethan continued speaking, bringing Ilsa's attention back to the present.
"First of all: I kill you, or let the CIA and MI6 take care of that for me. Second, I bring you in, alive and unharmed. But once you're taken into custody at headquarters, your fate may not be so sound. Even if you willingly hand over the information on that hard drive, they may not be enthusiastic about letting you go."
"And option three?" Ilsa asked softly.
Just like Ilsa, Ethan couldn't believe the words he was about to say, remembering how she had said the same thing to him years ago.
"Come away with me. Right now. We'll run away. Get you to a safe location, and I will make up a story to please the higher ups."
Ilsa walked around to the other side of the counter, sitting perpendicular to where Ethan stood. "What kind of story?" she inquired. "You can only hide from them for so long."
"Then," Ethan thought for a second. "We figure out what they really want you in for. After that, I can help you build a case, and you prove that you remain an ally to MI6 and the American agencies. Perhaps that will finally earn you your freedom."
Ilsa sighed and shook her head slowly. "We are never free, Ethan. You should know that better than anyone."
"Which is why I want you to finally have it," Ethan involuntarily grabbed Ilsa's hand. She didn't flinch or try to pull away. She accepted the warm touch of her long-time friend. "Come away with me," Ethan continued. "We'll lay low for a few days. But... I have to return to DC after that, or they will come hunting for both of us."
Ilsa closed her eyes for a moment, taking her time to process the conversation she had just had. No more than three seconds later, she opened them.
"Where do we start?"
"I have some ideas about that," Ethan walked around the other side of the kitchenette while placing his agency car keys on the counter. "My car is being tracked. It was disabled, but we only have about twenty minutes before the device activates. Do you have any clean vehicles?"
"My motorcycle," Ilsa gestured to the back of the small bungalow. "It'll hold two for an easy ride."
"Okay," Ethan sighed. "If we go right now, we can get out of here without gathering attention." He looked up, grabbed his jacket and Ilsa's hard drive from the counter, leaving the keys and other junk that could be traced, and pointed her out the door. Ilsa nodded and he handed her back the hard drive, trusting that she'd tell him what it was when the time came. She followed him out the back door.
Ethan shut the door and Ilsa locked it behind them.
"Let's go." Ilsa said. She tucked the bungalow key in her pocket and handed Ethan a spare helmet. She then grabbed her own and fitted it to her skull. Once they each had the minimum amount of legal protective gear on, they straddled the bike. Ethan took the front, since he had a destination in mind. Ilsa didn't mind being the back seater this one time. She had faith in Ethan's ideas.
Confident that they each were seated and secure on the motorcycle, Ethan found balance and revved out of the yard onto the street. The two agents rode off into the night, heading away from the city.