Recruitment

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Back in the room in Prague, Ethan takes a stack of money out of a paper bag and places it on the table. He throws the bag away. Claire picks up the stack.

Claire: Oh. Max made a deal with you?

Ethan sits at the computer.

Ethan: I deliver the NOC list, Max delivers Job.

Claire: We've got 75 rounds for your Beretta, but only 10 for the SIG Sauer. One pair of Visco glasses with monitor...

Ethan looks at Claire in confusion.

Claire: ... plenty of passports, and...

She catches Ethan's gaze.

Claire: What? You said it yourself, if I'm not dead, I'm with you.

Ethan: Are you sure about this?

Claire: Jim was my husband. I want to get the son of a bitch who did this.

Ethan looks back at the computer.

Ethan: We're gonna need some help. We don't have a lot of time, so they're gonna have to be local.

Claire: What kind of help?

On an IMF site, Ethan types "DISAVOWED" in a search bar. Claire looks at Ethan then back at the computer. A list of names and addresses comes up.

Y/N pulls his car up to his house, turns it off, and gets out. After he closes the door, he sees another car pull up as well. It stops and Ethan and Claire get out of it. Y/N recognizes Claire. They look each other in the eye for a moment but Y/N breaks eye contact and starts walking away. Ethan and Claire slightly jog to catch up to him.

Ethan: Y/N L/N.

Y/N stops and sighs in frustration and exhaustion. He turns to face Ethan and Claire.

Y/N: Yes?

Ethan: My name is Ethan Hunt. You already know Claire.

Y/N and Claire share a nod.

Y/N: Hunt, yeah, I recognize your name, you worked with Jim a lot.

Ethan gives a small nod.

Ethan: That's me.

Y/N: Where is Jim, anyway?

Ethan and Claire share a look and nod.

Ethan: Dead.

Y/N: Oh. KIA?

Claire nods.

Claire: Yeah.

Y/N: Sorry.

They all share a moment of silence.

Y/N: Anyway, I didn't mean to make the mood all melancholy. What brings you and Claire here, Hunt? Does the IMF want something from me? I'm disavowed.

Ethan: We know, Y/N. So are we. Well, I am, anyway. Claire is presumed dead. The IMF doesn't want anything from you, just us.

Y/N: Still, what do you want from me?

Claire: We need your help, Y/N.

Y/N scoffs.

Y/N: Why do you need MY help?

Ethan: 'Cause you were one of the best agents the IMF had.

Y/N: Maybe, but that was then, this is now. And, now, I've renounced that life. I don't know if you know this, but I have extremely unpleasant memories of that agency.

Y/N turns his back to Ethan and Claire.

Ethan: Like I said, Y/N, the IMF isn't involved in this. It'll just be a small team of disavowed agents acting outside of IMF regulations.

Y/N sighs.

Y/N: Well, it doesn't matter anyway, 'cause I'm not comin'.

Claire: Y/N, we're desperate.

Y/N: Yeah, I can see that. You MUST be desperate to come to me for help.

Claire lets out a frustrated sigh.

Ethan: Y/N, listen, we can't think of anybody better to help us with this job than you. But, if you really don't wanna come, we can find somebody else.

Y/N thinks for a few seconds.

Claire: Just help us this one time, Y/N, for old times' sake.

Y/N sighs.

Y/N: (Whispering) Dammit.

He turns to face them.

Y/N: Okay, fine, I'll help you. But just this one job, and then you leave me to live my life in peace and I never got involved in anything like this again, yeah?

Ethan smirks and nods.

Ethan: Count on it.

Y/N: Alright. So, what's the plan, Hunt?

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