"Hey Dad. Sorry I'm late but the traffic was-" Sarah froze. The vase that once sat upon the entryway dresser was now scattered across the floor. Slowly she entered, worried what she might find. The dining room chairs were broken and scattered, wine was dripping from spilled glasses, and food was splattered across the wall. She couldn't help but think about the accident five years ago. Her father had dealt with some important documents that became wanted by some very dangerous people. They had gotten police protection and had since been safe. But, like now, their house had been broken into, their stuff cast aside, and their security shaken. Each day since, paranoia itched at Sarah's mind. The handsome guy at the cafe asking her for change, the businesswoman eyeing her on the train ride home, the apartment owner asking where she and her father moved from. All of them could be spies, trying to get information that she refused to provide. Yet, despite that, somehow, they had still found them. But how?

"Dad?" Sarah slowly reached for the pepper spray canister that lay in her bag. Coming into the kitchen, she found the wine cabinet broken. Shards of frosted glass decorated the tile floor. She moved around the fallen debris as quietly as she could, yet each step made a sharp crunch. Hands shaking, she reached into the drawer next to the fridge. To her relief, her hands grasped around what she knew to be her chef knife. But, even with the long blade clasped in one hand and the pepper spray in the other, Sarah found it hard to continue. Her heart pounded in her chest. What would be around the corner? What would she find? Was it safe to continue or smarter to run and get help?

Her hand leapt to her mouth as her eyes fell upon a pool of blood. An unknown body lay on top of it. A shadow appeared in front of her. She arched away but she caught sight of who stood before her.

"Dad."

She couldn't run now.

A man dressed in a black suit held a gun to her father's head.

"Hello sweetie." The man spoke to her. "How bout you tell us the location of the flash-drive." Sarah looked to her father who was bleeding from a gash on his arm. "Hey, look at me, not at him."

"We don't have it. It was lost a long time ago. In fact we thought it was destroyed or that's what the police told us." It wasn't a lie. As far as she knew, it had been destroyed as promised.

"You mean the IMF?"

"No, we didn't trust the IMF. They wanted the USB as well." That was a lie. If the man was asking about that group then it was safer to deny working with them. 

"Please let her go. She has nothing to do with this. I am the one that works with Paix International. I tell her nothing of my work." The man whipped the grip of the pistol at the father's face. He moaned out and held his cheek which turned red and dripped of blood.

"Shut up!" The hooded man yelled at him and looked back up to Sarah's horrified face. "We know she made contact with Ethan Hunt five years ago. But that's funny I thought you said you didn't trust the IMF? Hmmm?" The man waved the pistol at her before putting it back on her father's temple.

"I didn't know he was the IMF-"

"You're lying," the man yelled, causing Sarah to jump.

"We don't know where it is. Please." The father begged.

"Fine." The man loosened his grip. "If you don't know anything then you are of no use to me." A pop rang through Sarah's ears. She watched as her dad slumped to the ground, eyes wide with a gaping hole in his forehead.

"Nooo!" She screamed in horror. The gunman turned towards her. Instinctively her arm jerked up and her finger pressed the bottle's trigger, squirting pepper spray towards the man's face, who yelled out in pain. She went to run but tripped over the lifeless body she forgot lay sprawled across the floor. Her arms collided with glass shards that still covered the ground. She winced but crawled forward, terrified her father's killer was close behind.

"Get back here you little bitch." The man yelled. He reached down and grabbed Sarah's hair. She remembered the knife that still remained gripped in her other hand and swung it up at her attacker. The blade connected. There was a gurgle, then a moan. Something warm oozed out, covering her hand and dripping down on her cheek. Suddenly there was a heavy pressure on top of her, pushing her deeper into the sharp floor. She managed to squeeze away from the body and found the hooded man's throat split open. Her knife clanged against the kitchen tile. The horror turned her stomach inside out, and she soon vomited, staining the floor alongside the now large puddle of blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her throat felt tight. Why was this happening to them? They were supposed to be safe. Ethan promised them. Ethan. She had to get a hold of him. He was an agent for the IMF, an impossible mission force, tasked with international affairs. He had helped them before. He could help her again. She just had to get to a safe house.

Legs and arms shaking, Sarah pushed herself up and opened the escape window. Her eyes jerked back as she heard the floorboard creak behind her.

"Don't move!"

She froze.

A man in similar attire to the other attacker appeared in the dining room. A scoped gun aimed at her.

Instead of doing as they said she jumped onto the fire escape and let her legs take her down the metal stairs.

"Hey!"

Several pops rang out above her. Sparks shot off the metal railing. She covered her head but kept running down, not looking back. Another pop. Then a second. With the third she felt a sharp explosion shoot through her shoulder. Her teeth clamped together and for a moment her vision grew blurry. She had been shot, but that wasn't going to stop her. She had to make it as far away from there as possible. Deciding she had no time to lower the ladder, she jumped. Sarah's legs buckled with the impact. No sooner had her body collided with the cement than she got up and continued running.

Several passersby looked her way, but kept walking, pretending that whatever was happening was not their business.

Several pops exploded by her feet. Nearby people began to shout and point in the direction.

"Run! Gun!" She yelled, but did not stop. The least she could do was warn the others. Maybe someone would call for help, but Sarah had lived long enough in the city to know, any trouble she had was her own.

Sarah checked her watch as she ran towards the entrance to the underground subway. It was four minutes past seven. This was her ticket out.

She stumbled down the stairs just as a train approached. Those nearby made sure to enter a different car, side-eyeing her as she limped in. Sarah plopped into a plastic chair near the corner. Her shoulder throbbed. She couldn't bring herself to look at it for fear she would pass out at the sight of her own blood. The thought of being shot was nauseating enough, but not more so than the other horrors of the night.

The car slightly shook as it began moving down its tracks. Next stop was Roosevelt Avenue, apartment building 206.

~

Upon getting off at the correct stop, she quickly found Roosevelt Avenue. It was quieter than her neighborhood and thankfully less lit up, making it easy to move within the shadows provided by the city walls. Only every once in a while would Sarah stop and look around, making sure she was alone and that she was heading in the right direction.

Apartment 206 on Roosevelt Avenue. It sat directly ahead, blending in with the other identical condominiums that sat on either side.

She went up and knocked. The lights remained off. The IMF said this place was only used for emergencies so Sarah wasn't surprised when no one answered.

A key. That's right. There was mention of a key in cases of emergency. Where was it again? Not under the welcome rug. Not inside the mailbox. A brick. Now she remembered. It was under a loose brick. If there was one thing she was thankful for, it was her great memory.

She felt around till one of the porch bricks wiggled in her hands. It took a little pull to pry it from its spot, but a golden key rewarded her in its place.

A quick turn and she was inside. It was warm and a bit dusty. Most of the furniture had covers over them. She locked the door behind her and propped a chair under the handle. No one was getting through that without her hearing about it. Quickly she entered the studio kitchen, opening each drawer as she went. The only thing she found was a fork. Not a great start. She went to the bathroom and to her surprise found a medkit. She collapsed to the bathroom floor with a wince. First thing first- her shoulder. Terror clung to her breath as she lifted up her shirt. Her eyebrows furrowed. Besides a thin cut there was nothing. What had she felt earlier? She had heard the gunshots- had felt this pain. Her fingers slipped into a tiny hole within the fabric. Even her shirt was ripped in the same area. Perhaps the bullet only grazed her. If that was the case then she was lucky. She picked away most of the glass pieces that still remained in her arms and dressed her wounds. A sigh escaped her lips as she saw her reflection in the mirror. Not only was her hair caked with blood but her hands smelled of iron too. Though the sink was small she managed to fit her hair under it and scrub the best she could. The water turned red like the floor of her apartment had. The sight made her angry,

There was a sudden boom. Sarah spun around, fork in hand, heart pounding in chest. Could they have followed her? She peaked around the wall. At first all she could see was a black outline lurking through the shadows, but as her eyes adjusted she realized who it was.

"Ethan." She stepped into the open. Ethan flicked his gun up towards her while staggering slightly backwards. She dropped the fork, stunned.

"Jesus. I could have killed you. What are you doing here, Sarah?" He flicked the lightswitch. Sarah winced at the sudden spotlight.

"Ethan, the people are back. They found us. They keep asking about the flash drive. They think we still have it. I don't know what to do." Ethan's lips slightly twitched. He looked her up and down. She was a mess. His eyes immediately caught sight of the blood.

"Are you ok?"

"It's not my blood." For the most part. "Ethan, why are they after us again? I thought you said they stopped looking?" Why was he not saying anything? Why didn't he look surprised? Sarah shook her head. A horrible feeling clenched at her gut. "Ethan? What are you not telling me? You destroyed the flashdrive I gave you five years ago, right? The flash drive you swore you would destroy. Ethan?"

"I couldn't."

"You- couldn't?" Sarah spoke unsure if she had heard him correctly.

"There was important information on there that we couldn't just throw away-" He tried to explain but she cut him off.

"Oh my God." Sarah blinked. "I can't believe I trusted you. You are just like the rest of them. You only care about power."

"No- that isn't true. Sarah you don't understand-"

"No. You don't understand, Ethan. You swore to me you would destroy it. You knew as much as I did that it was the only way to keep everyone safe. I mean Jesus Ethan, it's a nuclear weapon. Why would you want to keep that information? In the wrong hands-"

"It's already in the wrong hands." Ethan's voice grew louder. He seemed frustrated, but so was Sarah. "Earlier today we received intel that the already constructed weapon was spotted being loaded onto an airplane headed to the US. I was instructed to open the usb drive and get the files hidden on it. It triggered an alert that pinged at your new house, which shouldn't have happened, but-"

"You couldn't have at least warned us? So we could get to someplace safe. Like this safehouse?" She felt tears swelling up behind her eyes.

"There was no time. Trust me though, I did not forget about my promise to keep you and your family safe. We sent someone to your house-"

Where was the agent when her house got broken into? Where were they when her father had gotten killed? Wait. Perhaps she did see the agent. Her memory drifted to the unknown body that lay dead on her floor, the one that she had tripped over, the one that had almost gotten her killed.

"Buzz cut and cowboy boots?"

"Yes." Ethan confirmed.

"I did see him. He was dead on my kitchen floor."

A beeper flashed on Ethan Hunt's belt.

"Shit. We have to go." He grabbed a backpack from the closet by the front door then quickly went over to the window and opened it. "Come on." He gestured.

"What's wrong?"

"This safe house has been compromised. We have to get somewhere more off grid." Sarah followed him out. They snuck through the night, quickly making their way through the city. Ethan guided her to the subway where they got on a train. He stayed standing, keeping an eye out until the train doors closed. They sat there in silence as the train made its way through the tunnels. Sarah looked up at a whispering couple sitting across from them. They looked away upon seeing her gaze, which she knew was cold. If only they knew what had happened, then they would feel just as numb and afraid.

A sudden jolt caused Sarah to grip onto Ethan's arm.

"It's just the train." Ethan smiled reassuringly. Sarah nodded, quickly letting go. The train slowed to a stop. "This is us." Sarah looked around, worried that somehow they had caught on to them. Worried that when the train doors opened they would be standing out there waiting for them. She looked around. To her surprise she could see no one of the sorts. She followed Ethan out of the subway. They were on the far side of town. It was quieter and darker. Not many businesses were open here. Then again, it was eleven at night. "Here." Ethan put a hand on Sarah's back and led her up to another apartment building. He checked around before closing the door behind them. She watched as he went around entering codes into security pads that lay near the doors. "Ok. We are good." He turned on the lights and tossed his backpack onto a work table. The apartment was quite bare. It was an open floor concept one bedroom one bathroom from what she could see. You could stand at the front door and see every part of the apartment. She could see the appeal for a safe house. Not many places for someone to sneak in. "What's the best way to get in contact with your father?" Ethan pulled out a laptop. Sarah blinked. Her thoughts flashed back to earlier. She had put the memory in the back of her mind, knowing she had to focus on getting to safety first. "Sarah?" He watched her face. She opened her mouth but spoke nothing. "You don't have to worry. You are safe now." He walked over to her.

How had he not noticed? She had come to him for help, alone, covered in blood. The emotions hit her like a wave and the room began to spin.

"Woah. Are you ok?" Ethan's arms took hold of hers. Sarah's hands grasped him tightly, worried that despite his hold, it would somehow not be enough to keep her from collapsing.

"Ethan, he's-" Her words became breathy and deep. "They killed him right in front of me. I didn't even say goodbye. He was right there in front of me and all I could do was watch it happen." Ethan watched her as she slumped to the ground, shaking. His eyes were wide.

"I'm so sorry Sarah." Tears streamed down her face and her body continued to shake. Ethan hesitantly pulled on Sarah's arms, which had been tucked tightly into her chest. "Come on." His voice was soft as was his touch. Numbly Sarah opened up. Before she could argue Ethan had lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Gently he laid her down. The thought of being alone scared her. Sarah's hand gripped on his shirt. She didn't know what to say. Could she ask him to stay? But to her surprise he let her pull him back in. "It's going to be alright."

She nodded and curled closer to him. Her head rested against his chest. She could hear the steady thump of his heart. It was warming. She could feel Ethan's hand gently petting the top of her head. He was trying his best to calm her and it was working. Before she knew it she was fast asleep in his arms.