PART 1: THE WEDDING DAY PROTOCOL

Chapter 1: A Message from Hell

The brilliant golden sunlight of Napa Valley pierced through the white voile curtains, dancing on the $15,000 Vera Wang wedding dress hanging on the rack. Today was the most important day of my life – Sarah Miller. I was about to marry Ethan Hunt, the perfect man I met at a coffee shop in Washington D.C. three years ago.

Ethan was a federal agent (FBI), specializing in organized crime. He was quiet, calm, and always gave me a sense of absolute safety. But this morning, that safety was shaking violently.

The clock struck 8 AM. Only 2 hours left until the wedding ceremony began. I sat at the vanity, my hand trembling as I held my phone. My parents, gentle retired teachers living in Oregon, had not arrived yet. They said their flight was delayed last night, but this morning their phones were completely unreachable.

Ding.

A message arrived.

My heart tightened. It was my mother’s number. I hurriedly opened it, hoping it was a message saying they were on their way.

But no.

“We are not coming. Don’t call again. Have fun!”

I froze. The phone slipped from my hand, hitting the vanity with a dry clack.

My mother never texted so curtly. She always used heart icons, always called me “little pumpkin.” And more importantly, they loved Ethan. They had looked forward to this wedding even more than I did. “Have fun”? That was a wish for a stranger, not for a daughter on her wedding day.

“Sarah? Are you ready?”

The door burst open. Ethan walked in. He was wearing a handmade black tuxedo with a neatly tied bow tie. He looked breathtakingly handsome, but his ash-gray eyes – eyes that always observed everything – immediately noticed my abnormality.

“What’s wrong?” He walked over quickly, kneeling beside the chair, taking my cold hands.

I couldn’t speak, only shakily pointing at the phone on the table.

Ethan picked it up. He read the message. No surprise, no panic, or anger. His face hardened, cold and sharp as an iceberg. That was not the face of a worried groom, but the face of an agent on a mission.

He smiled – a reassuring smile but full of dangerous implications.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Ethan said, his voice deep but firm. “I understand.”

He stood up, pulling a secure black phone from the inner pocket of his jacket. He pressed the speed dial.

First call.

“The Falcon has broken a wing. Activate Protocol Number 4. Last location in Portland. I want Alpha Team there in 10 minutes. No negotiations. Capture alive if possible, eliminate if necessary.”

My eyes widened at him. Falcon? Eliminate?

Ethan hung up, dialing the second call.

Second call.

“Hello, Director. It’s me, Hunt. We have to speed up the timeline. They have touched my wife’s family. Yes, I know the risk. But I will turn this wedding into the biggest mousetrap you’ve ever seen. Close the airspace over Napa. Right now.”

He hung up. And the final call.

Third call.

“Jackson, do you copy? Change the main course menu. The ‘Beef Wellington’ will be served earlier. And tell the tech team to re-check the sound system under banquet tables 5, 6, and 7. Don’t let any errors happen.”

Ethan put the phone away, turning back to look at me. The coldness vanished, replaced by infinite tenderness. He lifted my chin, kissing my forehead lightly.

“It’s handled. Let’s begin.”

“Ethan…” I stammered, “Who did you just call? My parents… are they in trouble? Why did you talk about a mousetrap?”

Ethan sighed, caressing my cheek. “Sarah, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. Your parents didn’t want to miss this. They are being held hostage.”

“Hostage? By whom? Why?”

“By ‘Phantom’ – the arms trafficking organization I’ve been pursuing for the past 5 years. They know today is our wedding day. They know this is my only weakness. They kidnapped your parents to force me to cancel the operation.”

I felt the world spinning. My dream wedding suddenly turned into the scene of an action movie.

“So… that text message…”

“It’s a code,” Ethan explained. “‘Have fun’ is abbreviated as HF. In the family code I secretly installed for your father, HF stands for Hostiles Found – Help Fast. Your father is very smart; he used the kidnappers’ own phone to send a message to distract them, but actually alert me.”

“We have to cancel the wedding! We have to go save them!” I intended to stand up, tear off the wedding dress.

“No,” Ethan held my shoulders firm. “If we cancel the wedding, they will know I found out. They will kill the hostages. The only way to save your parents is for us to continue this play. We must make them believe I am a heartless son-in-law who doesn’t care about his in-laws’ absence. When they let their guard down, Alpha Team will raid.”

He looked deep into my eyes.

“Do you trust me, Sarah? Are you brave enough to walk out to that altar, smile, and exchange rings with me, knowing your parents are in danger?”

I looked at the man in front of me. I loved him for the peace he brought. But now, I realized that peace was built on his ability to control storms.

I took a deep breath, swallowing my tears. I am the daughter of a history teacher, and the fiancée of a federal agent. I couldn’t be weak.

“I trust you,” I said, voice trembling but steady. “Let’s start. But you must promise, my parents will be safe.”

“I swear on my life,” Ethan said.

Chapter 2: Vows Under Hidden Guns

The wedding took place in the outdoor garden, amidst lush green grapevines. The seats were full. They were friends, colleagues, and high-ranking officials. But now, looking into the crowd, I no longer saw smiles of blessing. I only saw suspicion. Who among them was from “Phantom”? Who was watching us?

Canon in D began to play. I walked alone on the red carpet. The absence of my father – who should have been walking me down the aisle – was like a knife cut to the heart. But I still held my head high, smiling radiantly like the happiest bride in the world.

Ethan stood waiting at the end of the aisle. He looked at me passionately. But I noticed his right hand was always hovering near his waist – where I knew for sure a Glock 19 was hidden under his jacket.

And Jackson – the best man, also Ethan’s teammate – didn’t stand still. He constantly shifted his eyes, hand lightly touching the earpiece disguised as a hearing aid.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pastor spoke. “We are gathered here today…”

I didn’t hear the pastor’s words clearly. My ears were ringing. I only heard my heart pounding and the wind rustling through the leaves.

“Sarah Miller, do you take…”

“I do,” I replied quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Ethan Hunt, do you take…”

“I do,” Ethan’s voice rang out, full of power.

When exchanging rings, Ethan squeezed my hand tight. His thumb stroked the back of my hand three times. Everything is okay.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Ethan leaned down to kiss me. In the moment our lips touched, he whispered very softly, just enough for me to hear: “Alpha Team has engaged the target. 3 minutes.”

The kiss ended amidst thunderous applause. But right at that moment, a strange noise rang out from the main gate of the estate.

A convoy of black SUVs, without license plates, tore through the wind onto the lawn, crushing the meticulously decorated rose beds. Guests screamed in panic.

“They’re here,” Ethan said, pushing me behind his back. “They couldn’t wait anymore.”

The car doors flew open. A group of men in black, masked, holding automatic rifles rushed out. Leading them was a man with a long scar on his face.

“Ethan Hunt!” He screamed through a megaphone. “Did you think you could fool me? I know you located the hostages. But you can’t save them! I planted a time bomb where your in-laws are!”

Ethan remained strangely calm. He raised his hand to signal.

Immediately, from the rows of guest seats, half of the “guests” sprang up. The aunts, the uncles, the office colleagues… they tore off their outer formal wear, revealing bulletproof vests and weapons underneath.

It turned out, this was not a normal wedding. This was a large-scale ambush operation.

“Jackson! Protect Sarah!” Ethan ordered.

Jackson rushed over, pulling me to hide behind the marble banquet table.

Gunshots rang out sharply. The romantic scene instantly turned into a battlefield. Wine glasses shattered, white flowers stained with chaos.

I covered my ears, curling up. I saw Ethan. He was no longer the elegant groom. He moved fluidly amidst the bullets, returning fire with precision. Every one of his shots was a terrorist down. He was like a dance of death, both terrifying and captivating.

“Damn it!” Jackson cursed, shooting down a man trying to approach me. “Sister-in-law, stay low!”

“My parents! He said there’s a bomb!” I screamed over the gunfire.

“Boss handled it!” Jackson replied.

Suddenly, Ethan’s phone rang – a distinct ringtone for missions. Amidst the gunfire, he still answered.

“Report!” Ethan shouted into the phone, hand still pulling the trigger to take down the scarred man.

A second of silence. Then Ethan’s face relaxed.

“Good. Get them to safety.”

He hung up, turning to look at the scarred man writhing on the ground after being shot in the leg.

“Hey Viktor!” Ethan called out loud, his voice echoing through the now-ruined garden. “You forgot one thing. I’m not just an agent. I’m the son-in-law of a Physics teacher.”

The scarred man stared at him wide-eyed.

“My father-in-law disabled the bomb with a hairpin and his knowledge of electronic circuits 15 minutes ago. Alpha Team just had to go in and clean up.”

Police sirens and helicopters began to sound in the distance. The battle ended as quickly as it began. The “Phantom” faction was annihilated or captured completely.

I stood up from behind the table, legs trembling. My wedding dress was stained with mud and wine.

Ethan ran to me. There was a small scratch bleeding on his cheek. He hugged me tight, so tight I could hardly breathe.

“It’s over,” he said. “Your parents are safe.”

I burst into tears. Not from fear, but from relief.

But the story didn’t stop there.

Chapter 3: The Secret in the Wedding Cake

While the police were clearing the scene and taking statements, Ethan pulled me into the main hall of the estate – where the reception was supposed to take place.

“We still have one thing to do,” he said.

“What thing? The wedding is ruined, Ethan,” I looked at my pathetic appearance in the mirror.

“Not yet. I promised you a perfect wedding. And I always keep my word.”

He led me to the giant 5-tier wedding cake that was still intact in the middle of the hall.

“Why did you tell Jackson to change the menu and check under the tables?” I suddenly remembered the third call.

Ethan smiled mysteriously. He pulled out the cake knife, handing it to me.

“Cut the cake, honey.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Cut the 3rd tier.”

I suspiciously held the knife, cutting deep into the 3rd tier. The blade hit a hard object.

“What is this?”

I separated the sponge cake layer. Inside was not cream filling or fruit.

It was a small black metal box.

Ethan took the box out, wiping off the cream sticking to the outside. He opened it. Inside was a silver USB drive and an antique key.

“What is this?” I asked.

“This is the real reason ‘Phantom’ chased me and your family,” Ethan said, voice lowering. “This is the list of all corrupt officials protecting them, and the key to their secret arsenal in Eastern Europe.”

“But… why was it in our wedding cake?”

“Because this is the safest place. No one expects an agent to hide the world’s most important evidence right in his own wedding, under the enemy’s nose. And more importantly…” Ethan looked at me, eyes full of pride. “…I wanted you to be the one to find it. So you understand that you are not just an agent’s wife. You are the one holding the key to ending this war.”

I held the cold USB in my hand. Turns out, I had accidentally become part of the most important mission of his career.

“So what about my parents?”

“Look there,” Ethan pointed out the door.

A helicopter landed on the lawn in the distance. Two elderly people stepped out, assisted by agents. They looked a bit frightened, clothes disheveled, but completely unharmed.

“Mom! Dad!” I screamed, rushing out of the hall, running barefoot on the grass.

My mother hugged me tight, sobbing.

“Oh Sarah! I’m sorry! I was so scared! That boy Ethan… he saved us. Is he Superman?”

I turned back to look at Ethan standing leaning against the door, smiling watching the family reunion.

“No Mom,” I laughed through tears. “He’s just a husband who keeps his promises.”

That evening, there was no grand dancing party, no empty toasts. Only my family, Ethan, and his team sat gathered by the fireplace, eating Beef Wellington (served later than expected) and drinking wine.

My wedding dress was ruined, but I had never felt happier.

“Hey Hunt,” Jackson raised his glass, face still stained with gunpowder. “Next time you get married, please pick a day that’s a bit freer. My heart can’t take it anymore.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Ethan held my hand, kissing the wedding ring on my ring finger. “Once is more than enough for a lifetime.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder, watching the fire crackling in the fireplace. A wedding with guns, kidnapping, and codes. Certainly not the fairytale wedding I once dreamed of. But it was a destined wedding, where I realized that love is not just roses and candles, but absolute trust when walking through a storm of bullets together.

And my mother’s text “Have fun”? Thinking back now, it was truly a wish. We had a “fun” day in the craziest way possible.

PART 2: THE PREDATOR’S HONEYMOON

Chapter 4: Codes on the Wedding Night

Instead of the Maldives or Hawaii as planned, our honeymoon began at an FBI “Safe House” deep in the pine forests of Virginia.

The rustic wooden house looked normal on the outside but was equipped with state-of-the-art security systems inside. Our wedding night didn’t have candles and flowers, but the eerie blue glow from dozens of computer screens.

Jackson and the tech team were frantically decoding the USB found in the wedding cake.

“Double encryption,” Jackson tore at his hair, finishing his fifth cup of coffee of the night. “The first layer is RSA-4096, I cracked it. But the second layer… it doesn’t follow any logical algorithm. It looks like a meaningless string of random numbers.”

Ethan stood nearby, his hand still holding mine tight. He stared at the numbers running on the screen.

“Nothing is random,” he muttered. “The head of ‘Phantom’ is an extremely meticulous man. His name is Oberon. He likes playing riddles.”

I looked at the screen. The numbers: 1776 – 1865 – 1945 – 1969…

A light flashed in my mind. I am the daughter of a history teacher; these numbers were too familiar.

“Ethan,” I spoke up, timidly pointing at the screen. “This isn’t a computer algorithm. This is American history.”

Everyone turned to look at me.

“1776 is the year of the Declaration of Independence. 1865 ended the Civil War. 1945 ended World War II. 1969 humans landed on the moon,” I said quickly. “These are milestones of freedom and conquest. The password might be related to these keywords.”

Ethan looked at me, his eyes shining with pride. He turned to Jackson. “Try combining the first letters of those events. Independence – Union – Victory – Apollo.”

Jackson typed furiously.

Enter.

The screen turned green. ACCESS GRANTED.

“My God,” Jackson exclaimed. “Sister-in-law, you are a genius!”

The data inside the USB opened like a Pandora’s box. Thousands of pages of documents on nuclear arms deals, lists of bribed officials, and most importantly: Oberon’s hideout location. He was right in Washington D.C., preparing for a final transaction before disappearing forever.

“He plans to sell a suitcase containing biological warheads to a rebel group tomorrow night,” Ethan read the report, voice hardening. “At the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, during a fundraising gala.”

He turned to me, eyes full of apology. “Sarah, I’m sorry. Our honeymoon has to be postponed.”

I smiled, smoothing his shirt collar.

“It’s okay. I’ve always wanted to visit the museum at night. Heard it’s very interesting.”

Chapter 5: The Last Waltz

The Smithsonian Museum was ablaze with lights. Giant dinosaur skeletons cast shadows on the marble walls, silently witnessing the stream of upper-class people toasting each other.

I wore an emerald green evening gown with a high slit, a small dagger hidden on my thigh – a “special” wedding gift Jackson gave me. Ethan was beside me in a tuxedo; he looked like the perfect gentleman, but I could feel every muscle in his body tense like a wire.

“Target at 3 o’clock. Man in a white suit, holding a cane,” Jackson’s voice came through the micro-earpiece.

It was Oberon. He looked more like a harmless old tycoon than an arms dealer. He was talking to a foreign man, next to a metal suitcase.

“Alpha Team in position,” Ethan ordered quietly. “Wait for my signal.”

Ethan led me onto the dance floor. Melodious Waltz music played. We blended into the crowd, spinning, stepping closer to the target.

“Are you scared?” Ethan whispered in my ear as he spun me around.

“With you here, I’m not scared,” I replied, hand on his shoulder, eyes glancing at Oberon.

Suddenly, Oberon looked up. His gaze met Ethan’s. He realized. An old fox like him had the instinct to smell a hunter.

He signaled his bodyguards, then quickly grabbed the suitcase and walked toward the back door, the Marine Life exhibit area.

“He’s running! Action!” Ethan shouted, letting go of me and drawing his gun.

The chaotic scene repeated like at the wedding, but this time more brutal. Gunshots rang out sharply between display cases. Guests screamed and fled.

I didn’t run. I hid behind the giant blue whale model hanging from the ceiling, observing.

Ethan chased Oberon. His bodyguards fired back fiercely. Jackson and Alpha Team provided cover from behind.

Oberon ran into the dark storage area. Ethan rushed after him.

I saw another bodyguard sneaking around the technical corridor, gun aimed at Ethan’s back. Ethan didn’t see him.

“Ethan! Behind you!” I screamed, but the gunfire was too loud.

Without thinking, I took off my high heels, grabbed a metal display bar nearby, and rushed forward. I am not an agent, I don’t know martial arts, but I am a wife protecting her husband.

I swung the metal bar with all my might at the bodyguard’s nape.

Thwack!

He collapsed, the gun flying away. I trembled, looking at my numb hand. I just took down an assassin.

Ahead, Ethan had cornered Oberon. The old man pulled a gun intending to shoot back, but Ethan was faster. A precise shot to the shoulder made the old man drop his weapon.

“It’s over, Oberon,” Ethan stepped forward, pointing the gun at his head.

Oberon chuckled, blood trickling from his mouth. “You think catching me is the end? The biological bomb in the suitcase… it’s activated by my heartbeat. If I die, or if I get too stressed… Boom!”

Ethan froze. Jackson and the support team also stopped.

“You’re lying,” Ethan said.

“Try me,” Oberon smirked, hand on his left chest. His heart rate was increasing. The suitcase at his feet began beeping rapidly.

The room was intensely tense. No one dared to move.

I looked at the suitcase, then at Oberon. Numbers again. Codes again.

“Ethan,” I said, stepping out of the shadows. “Let me.”

“Sarah, no! Stay back!” Ethan shouted.

“You keep him calm,” I said, approaching the suitcase. “I know how to turn it off.”

I knelt beside the deadly suitcase. The screen displayed a countdown clock: 2 minutes. And a number pad.

“What is the password?” I asked Oberon.

“You think I’ll tell you, bitch?” He spat.

“No need for you to say,” I looked at the hint numbers on the screen. The Queen’s Birthday.

Oberon called himself the King of Fairies in Shakespeare’s play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He was a narcissist and a lover of literature.

“Your wife’s name was Titania, right?” I asked.

Oberon was stunned.

“And your daughter… who died because of the very weapon you created 10 years ago… her name was Puck.”

Oberon’s face changed color. That was the only and greatest pain of his life.

“I read your file in the USB,” I said quickly, hand on the keypad. “You don’t want to detonate this bomb. You want to use it to threaten, to blackmail. You don’t want to die. You still hope to find your daughter’s grave.”

The clock showed 30 seconds.

“The password is the day your daughter died,” I affirmed.

Oberon closed his eyes, a tear rolling down. He didn’t deny it.

I entered the sequence. 12-08-2014.

Beep.

The clock stopped at 00:05. The red light turned green.

The whole room sighed in relief. Ethan rushed forward, kicking the gun far away from Oberon and handcuffing him. Jackson quickly secured the suitcase.

Ethan pulled me up, hugging me tight. His heart beat strongly against my chest.

“You’re crazy,” he whispered, voice trembling. “But you’re the best.”

“I learned from you,” I laughed, though my legs were still shaking.

Chapter 6: Simple Happiness

Three months later.

We were on a deserted beach in Bora Bora. No guns, no earpieces, no codes. Only the sound of ocean waves and cold cocktails.

After the Oberon case, Ethan requested long-term leave. He said he needed to relearn how to live normally. And I was his teacher.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, stroking the faint scar on his shoulder – a relic of that battle.

“I’m thinking about the Beef Wellington,” Ethan laughed. “Last time we ate too quickly, didn’t get to taste how good it was.”

“Then tonight I’ll make it for you. But you have to be the sous-chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ethan’s phone vibrated. He looked at the screen, then at me. It was a message from the Bureau. A new mission.

I sighed, picking up the cocktail. “Go. The world needs you to save it.”

But Ethan turned off the phone, tossing it onto the white sand.

“The world can wait,” he pulled me into his arms, kissing my lips under the brilliant sunset. “Right now, my only mission is to love you.”

I smiled, closing my eyes to enjoy the sweet kiss. I knew our life would never be completely calm. There would be missions, dangers. But I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Because I wasn’t just an agent’s wife. I was his partner. And more importantly, we had the strongest weapon to fight against any enemy: It was Love.

THE END