"If you jab me with that tranquilizer ring again, believe me, you're not walking out of Serbia alive…"
Just as Ethan hesitated, unsure whether or not to make a move on Owen, Owen spoke without even turning his head.
Ethan felt conflicted. All in all, he owed Owen. If Makarov hadn't mistaken Owen for one of them back at the train station, their whole team might have been wiped out. And now, Owen had just saved him again—and saved the plutonium.
"I have to take the plutonium. I need it to save Benji…"
The motorcycle rolled to a stop. Ethan held the plutonium case, looking at Owen.
"Not a chance. What, so you can hand it over to Makarov?"
Owen was furious with the IMF team. They'd screwed him at the train station, stealing the plutonium right out of his hands. Then during the GRU raid on the safe house, they had ditched him without a second thought—three of them running while leaving him behind.
"…"
Ethan stayed silent. Owen knew he wouldn't give up so easily. He was probably already trying to figure out how to break away. But Owen wasn't worried. Ethan's gun was empty, and if it came down to a fight, Owen feared no one right now.
Just as the standoff grew tense, both of their phones rang simultaneously.
They shared a knowing look and took a few steps back, each answering their call.
…
White House, small conference room
CIA Director Martin Davis sat across from a visibly enraged President David Palmer and an expressionless Jack Bauer. Martin wore a look of helpless resignation. "I'm sorry you're only hearing about this now, but I truly didn't know. The IMF team acted on their own. By the time I found out, they'd already taken the plutonium from the Russians…"
"Oh, for God's sake. Don't give me that. They're your people—your elite team—and you're telling me you didn't know? That's dereliction of duty, Martin."
President Palmer was full of scorn. Who'd believe he didn't know?
Martin was internally swearing. He really hadn't known. The IMF team had always acted recklessly, pushing limits to complete their missions—but this time, they'd gone too far. In their bid to capture Makarov, they had decided to steal decommissioned Russian nuclear material. From Russia, the second most powerful military nation after the U.S.? Martin realized he had coddled them too much. If today they dared steal nukes, tomorrow they might try blowing up the Kremlin.
Owen had kept Jack updated throughout the mission. Everything involving the IMF team, the plutonium, and the Russians—Owen had reported it all in full. The situation had become severe, especially with direct conflict and casualties involving the GRU. Jack had immediately brought the matter to President Palmer.
The stakes were high. Hence the urgent White House meeting.
Martin was disheartened. What had started as a promising sting operation had become a trap laid by Makarov. Things had spiraled out of control. Makarov had uncovered the IMF team's identity and nearly got away with the plutonium. If CTU hadn't intervened, the consequences could've been catastrophic.
Now, the Russians had caught on that the nuclear material had been swapped. They sent in the GRU to investigate. The result? A wild firefight in Serbia's capital, rivaling a Hollywood blockbuster.
"Martin, do you even realize what you've done? You're playing with fire. You nearly started World War III!"
President Palmer was furious. One nuclear-armed nation messing with another's nuclear stockpile was blatant provocation. Even if the warheads were slated for decommissioning—it didn't matter.
Serbia's reaction could be managed—they might protest, but wouldn't escalate. But Russia? That was a different story.
Yes, the Soviet Union had collapsed, leaving America as the world's sole superpower. But Russia had inherited most of the USSR's arsenal. They were not to be underestimated.
Worse still, the Russians probably already suspected U.S. involvement. Contact had been made, and Russian operatives had died. The conflict could easily spiral further—something the U.S. wanted to avoid at all costs.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President…"
Martin was bitter. Palmer wasn't interested in apologies. He turned to Jack Bauer.
"Do we know how much the Russians know?"
"No. But they likely don't know it was us yet. If they did, we'd already be getting threats."
"Fine. Then notify Owen—he needs to return the plutonium to the GRU, quietly. We cannot be exposed. As for the IMF team…" Palmer glanced at Martin. "Martin, I want an explanation."
Martin knew if he didn't offer a satisfying answer now, his career was finished. He gritted his teeth. "The IMF team acted recklessly and caused severe consequences. Effective immediately, they are disbanded."
Palmer nodded. "Good. Submit a full report to Congress."
Jack shot Martin a surprised glance. The man really was ruthless. Palmer's reasoning was clear—he backed CTU, and CIA hadn't had a stellar track record lately. The IMF team's mess made them an easy scapegoat.
But Martin had led the CIA since before Palmer took office. The IMF team had been his brainchild, his ace unit, with numerous successful missions. For him to dissolve them so easily—it was sobering.
Jack couldn't say if he'd do the same in Martin's shoes.
With the decision made, Jack called Owen. Martin called Ethan.
"The mission to capture Makarov is no longer the priority. What matters now is returning the plutonium to the Russians—quietly. We can't risk escalation. If possible, we make it look like someone else was behind it. And whatever you do, don't get caught by the Russians. The U.S. will not admit we stole it. Additionally, due to this failure, the CIA's IMF team is officially disbanded—per Director Martin and President Palmer's orders."
A few minutes later, Owen ended his call and looked across at Ethan. Ethan looked back at him.
Honestly, Owen was surprised. In his memory, the IMF team had faced disbandment many times, but always pulled through. This time felt different. This time, it came directly from President Palmer. The IMF might not escape this.
"I'm sorry."
Owen didn't know what else to say. Ethan Hunt kept his mouth shut, lips tightly pressed together.
Outside, the sound of a car braking reached their ears. Neither man looked surprised. Nikki had already informed Owen that a car was approaching. Judging by Ethan's reaction, it wasn't an enemy—it was the rest of the IMF team.
(End of Chapter)
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