And the ball gets rolling.  The most important thing in this one is to make it feel more like the old series, with the *team* making the game work.

Disclaimer: The character of Ethan Hunt and associated details regarding the IMF are the property of Paramount Pictures.  They are used solely for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.
 

Chapter 2 - "Ground Rules"

Four people sat around the conference table at 1500 hours, EST.  They were currently in a slightly less-than-first class office with only small windows providing a view of Sixth Ave. below them.  Just past the end of the table was a small but hi-tech PC projection setup facing a folding screen.

Sitting beside the notebook computer was Ethan Hunt.  To his left, Diana Piretti impatiently tapped her nails against the table.  Beside her sat T.J. Delacorte, who silently appraised Hunt's setup.  Across from them were Justin Aquino and Alexa Haller, sitting just a bit closer than what Ethan would consider professional.

*But then again,* Ethan thought to himself, *I didn't pick them because of their professionalism.  I picked them because they're the best.*  Taking a breath, he rose.

"Well, I hope everyone's gotten plenty of rest on their time off from the field, because this is going to be one hell of a game."

T.J. raised his eyebrows.  "You've picked yourself an interesting team here, Ethan.  Not a single spotless record at the table."

"Believe me, T.J., I've discovered that a spotless record makes for a pretty boring one.  'Boring' is not what I wanted.  Everyone introduced, then?"  The gathered agents nodded.  "All right, then, here's the game."

"Hang on," said Alexa.  "I know you've worked with them, but Justin and I aren't that familiar with you."

Ethan nodded.  "Fair enough.  Any questions?"

"How many of these games have you run?" asked Justin.

"Personally run?  Truthfully-- one.  This is only my first official shot at team leader.  I ran point for Jim Phelps for three years."

"And unofficially?"

"Director Kittredge would prefer I didn't mention my unofficial game.  Maybe I'll tell you sometime.  Anything else?"

"Yeah," said Diana.  "Is there any way we could get a decent cup of coffee up here?"  She waved her hand disgustedly at the paper cup before her.  The short burst of laughter did everyone good.

"All right, all right," Ethan said, "let's get to it."  He tapped away at the notebook.  A trio of digitally enhanced photographs appeared on the screen.  Ethan pointed a laser mouse at the screen, clicking on the far left.

"Tommy Tarraka.  Thirty-one, five-ten, one sixty-five.  'The Tiger' is a dedicated martial artist, and is fiercely loyal to his partner.  Most intelligence says they're either married or might as well be.  He coordinates all the muscle and securtiy for their operations."

He enlarged the center picture.  "Janine Price.  Thirty, five-five, one ten.  She's pretty, but I can assure you this 'Lady' is no lady.  Price is reputed to be the financial and business brains of the partnership-- it's all her when it comes to planning, making contacts and negotiation."

"Damian Campana," he said, blowing up the last shot.  "This is the package.  He's one of the pair's closest aides, and has been feeding the U.S. authorities with information on his employers for the last six months.  Unfortunately, the info hasn't been critical enough to get a capture, but it has been crucial enough for Campana to start feeling some heat.  He pulled the cord, and it's up to us to bail him out."

He touched a few more keys, and the screen changed to an aerial view of the surrounding city.  A small red circle marked their current position, near the corner of West Fifty-sixth and Sixth.  "This," he continued, marking out a nearby building, on West Fifty-seventh and Fifth Ave., "is their main base of operations here in Manhattan-- a two floor penthouse apartment.  It may look pretty unassuming from the outside, but that's the point.  They share the building with a number of celebrities and muckety-mucks, so the security is more than state-of-the-art."

"T.J., your job is to pick the lock.  Diana and Alexa are going in to pick up the package.  Justin is going to leave our friends a few goodies.  I'll run a remote point and try to keep the rest of the household out away from the penthouse as long as possible.  The game begins at 0900 tomorrow morning."

Ethan pulled up a schematic drawing of the penthouse.  "We've put this together from thermal and sonic scans and the architect's files.  Learn it, know it, love it.  T.J., Justin-- grab the cases from the next room and start unpacking the equipment."

**********

"Looks like standard field equipment has changed since the last time we were on duty, huh, Justin?"  T.J. picked over the high-tech gear strewn on the table like kid with a new set of toys.  He finally settled on a set of wire-framed spectacles, which he handed to Justin, who put them on.

Touching a few controls on his laptop, the tiny camera hidden in the glasses began broadcasting Justin's view to both the computer screen and the IMF-standard issue watches they both wore.  Both T.J. and Ethan had their own versions, while the ladies' cameras had to be built into the uniforms they'd be using to get inside the apartment.  Thus equipped, anyone on the team could see whatever anyone else was seeing at any given time.

The two young men spent the next hour going over the particulars of the surveillance devices that were to be planted in the penthouse.  If everything went as planned, 'The Lady and The Tiger' would soon be broadcasting in full color and stereo sound to all the appropriate authorities.

"Do you believe these ridiculous outfits?"

The voice came from the small bedroom behind them.  T.J. and Justin turned to see Alexa standing in the doorway in a classic maid's uniform-- lace collar and headpiece, tiny white apron and relatively short black skirt.  "How in the hell is someone supposed to be able to clean an apartment dressed like this?"

"Well," explained T.J., "most of the tenants _are_ male, and lots of them from the U.N.  The building wants to keep the tenants happy, so..."

"Oh, I don't know," Justin drawled, "I think it's kind of fetching."

Alexa stepped behind his seat and playfully rumpled his hair.  "You would."  She laughed as Justin took her right hand and kissed the palm.  T.J. whistled.

Diana exited the bedroom, dressed the same as Alexa-- both women could easily have been a walking fantasy.  "I'm still not convinced it's a good idea for two people on the team to be involved-- it's a security risk."

"I wouldn't worry, Diana."

"And why, T.J., is that?"

"You mean you didn't read their service jackets?"

"Of course I did.  They were suspended for becoming involved."

"The suspension was justified by an old, outdated clause in the IMF charter," Alexa snapped.  "But the cause was another thing completely.  We embarassed a temporary team leader."

"He'd been assigned to our team while our usual boss recuperated," Justin explained.  "He botched the operation.  We salvaged it.  Our... relationship made us convincing enough to take our mark."

The story was interrupted by Ethan's appearance in the doorway.  "That mark was one of Miami's biggest drug traffickers.  DEA estimated the payoff at more than two billion dollars and twenty tons of cocaine."

Ethan looked around at his team.  "Every single one of your suspensions was justified... by the book, even if the deeper reasons might not justify them.  You will notice as the game progresses-- especially if the situation changes drastically-- that I am _not_ a by-the-book team leader.  If any of you has a problem with this, let me know."

The agents eyed each other with a new respect.  No one said a word.

"Good.  Justin, Alexa, I'd like a word with you both."  Ethan noticed the quick look that passed between the couple.  "Don't worry, kids, you're not in trouble.  I just want to go over a few particulars with you together."

The visibly relieved agents followed Ethan into the next room.  T.J. called after Diana as her high heels clicked their way back to the bedroom.  "Hey, Diana-- since Ethan's given his okay to a little intramural romance, what do you say we, y'know?"

"Not a chance, T.J.," she answered without turning.  The door closed.

T.J. smirked as his fingers headed for the laptop.

"And don't you dare think of turning on my camera!" shouted Diana from inside the room.

"Who, me?" he yelled back, then switched it on anyway.  He was treated to a view of the inside of an empty drawer.

A few hours later, they ate a modest dinner of takeout Chinese and turned in early.

**********

0630 rolled around.  In one bedroom, Alexa was relaxing, sitting atop Justin's back as he went through his morning exercises.  A few minutes later, he returned the favor, helping Alexa with her own calisthenics.  Diana was in the middle of a very hot shower, during which she twisted the knob, turning the water freezing cold.  T.J. was still sound asleep.  Ethan sat at the desk, tapping away at the computer, ostensibly ironing out a last minute detail.

At 0730, the entire team was gathered around the table once more, coffee was put on, and last minute preparations were made.

By 0830, the team was in place, and the game had begun.

TO BE CONTINUED...