It had been raining for hours–relentlessly pouring down on everyone, even the cars. I can get to the bar in time, I hope. Waiting for it to pass would mean I might disappoint my boyfriend. Not gonna happen.
I shield my head with something and run towards my car. The RAV-4 sits there, getting bombarded with the rain just as I make it there. My class just ended.
Once I make it in, I am dripping wet. I put on my seatbelt after I set my backpack aside. My phone kept ringing, and it was him, as usual. So I take the call, telling him I'll be there in a little while.
Not knowing it was his set-up, I believe what he says, "Just take your time... maybe drive fast or don't."
After that, I cut the call, put the phone away, and well, backed out of the lot. I turn the steering wheel, the tires turning along with it. I get onto the road, the rain-slicked road, and make my way for a few minutes without much incident.
But then, just suddenly, my brakes don't work. I try it over and over, but it doesn't work, not at all. What the hell? I cannot see the road now, either.
I swerve left and right, attempting not to hit anything. For however long, I keep going just like that until a flash of light and a screech of tires echoes in the air.
**
I blink once, maybe twice. Am I in Prague? It's night too—I see Ethan Hunt, maybe, following some figure, and so I follow.
Whether it's real or fake is just a matter of time. Wasn't he after the NOC list? Is this after Jim Phelps and the other girl died? Must be. I just watch from afar.
My coma just got a whole lot better. Why is he approaching me? Did he see me? Whatever he is saying, I can't hear. Ethan crouches in front of me. He seems to be asking me something, but the ringing in my ears hasn't stopped.
I close my eyes cause it's safer. After all, that's the only thing I can do. I don't hear the rest of what he says.
**
When I come to, well, I am lying on a bed. The same bed from the first movie. A motel in Prague, maybe. I sit up. Look around and wince as I touch my head. "Take it easy, you've got a hell of a bump on your head."
Seriously, I take a close look at him or attempt to. "You're in a safe house. Of sorts," he continues, stepping closer to the light. "You collapsed on the Embankment. Right in the middle of a crime scene. Do you remember how you got there?"
I shook my head at that question.
"I'm Ethan," he added, testing maybe to see if I would react to it. "Do you have a name? Or a reason why you were wandering around Prague in a thunderstorm before appearing out of thin air?"
Well, it is taking me a while to process all this information. "This... is a safehouse? In Prague..."
And Ethan Hunt is standing in front of me? The Ethan Hunt from the Mission Impossible Franchise.
"Prague," he confirmed, his voice flat. "The safehouse is compromised, but it's the only place I have left. You're lucky I didn't leave you for the police. Or worse."
I shoot up from the bed and just walk out. I need air now. "Hey– Stop!"
No, I can't believe this. The one I have admired on screen a thousand times is real. And I am in the crossfire. He blocked me from leaving at all.
"You're real... and this is.... really real," I mumbled, locking eyes with Ethan Hunt.
"I'm real enough, and the bullets that killed my friends were real, too. The blood on the pavement? That was real."