Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it.

The Retirement Plan

By WritePassion

Michael stood alone in the darkened room, a drink in his hand, surveying the street below while he contemplated his choices. A year ago, from a similar position, he crossed the line and killed Card. He should have been executed for his crime, but the higher ups recognized that Card was part of a cancer inside the system, and Michael's familiarity with it and ability to root it out could be put to good use. Michael was tired of running and ready to try to live a normal life with Fiona and leave the agency behind when everything went south. He was given the choice of freedom or lifetime sentences in prison for her, Sam, Jesse and his mother, and it was clear that he could only do one thing, take the deal.

The CIA's offer gave him an excuse, an easy out of something that could have possibly been the hardest thing he'd ever done. If he'd been honest with himself, he would have admitted that he was terrified of being a civilian. He hadn't been one since he was seventeen, and he had no idea how to take up that life again. Giving his friends and his mother their freedom felt good, even if he lost his in the process. Only the prospect of it being a temporary trade-off kept him going, and now he sensed that things were coming to a close. Just one more mission, and he would be done. They hadn't told him that but he knew, and the scary, unexplored civilian world was creeping up behind him.

Unknown to Sam, Michael was staying in the hotel next door to Elsa's. The Agency didn't want him at the Darabant, and it had nothing to do with the cost. He would be too close for comfort to his best friend. Why they couldn't have booked him a room farther up the coast, he had no idea. It was as if someone was taunting him with the carrot of Sam's friendship, yet forbidding him from getting in contact with the ex-Navy SEAL, the guy who had his back for so long.

"This is a sensitive operation, Michael," Director Raines told him. "Sam Axe is just going to complicate things."

"He has an excellent background in intelligence," Michael countered. "He could be a big help."

"He doesn't work for the Agency. Don't get him involved." The hard look in Raines' icy blue eyes told Michael that insubordination would not be tolerated, even a little. "The days of working with your friends are long gone. There's no negotiating and no discussing this."

Michael decided it was best to stay within the lines for the time being and slowly push the boundaries when the opportunity arose. In the meantime, he looked down on South Beach and watched Sam and Elsa walking up the street to Carlito's. He knew it was his friend by the way he walked, and even from this far away he recognized the love as he enveloped her with a protective arm. Strange that he'd gotten to know the man so well, but they had decades of history between them, which helped. Thinking about it physically hurt, so he swallowed back the pain and longing for his friend with the last of his drink.

Michael considered distracting himself with thoughts of Fiona, but that would only cause more pain. Instead, he went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner and a drink or two at the bar where he was scheduled to meet his contact. He was early, but he didn't care. It was something to do to take up the time and give himself a chance to get his head back in the game and stop thinking about what he lost. Then he could get his job done and maybe be free of the CIA once and for all, and he could fix what had been broken.

He parked himself at a spot where he could keep a good eye on the bar and the patrons nestled in booths and gathered around tables inside the establishment. It was out of habit rather than a genuine interest in the people, and it saved his butt from getting ambushed many a time. His cell phone pipped and he looked at the screen.

Meeting location changed. Stone Crab Shack in 30 minutes. – P

Great. He just started on a fresh drink. Michael slid a twenty on the bar and slipped off the stool. This was the third time his contact changed locations on him. His suspicions grew with every change in venue, and he wondered who was playing this game and why. He considered calling Raines and pulling the cord on this one, yet the prospect of gaining some valuable intel through this contact spurred him on. One more time, then I'm done. Michael sighed as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. The Stone Crab Shack was up the street a few blocks, and his path would take him past one of his favorite haunts. He considered crossing the street to avoid the open-air porch at Carlito's, but that was a ridiculous idea. He could handle it. Really, he was much stronger than that.

"Hey, Mikey!"

Inside, Michael cringed when he heard Sam call out to him. Should I acknowledge him or just keep going? He'll want to chat, but I don't have time. Would it hurt to simply turn and wave? That's what Michael did.

"Mike, come on and have a beer," Sam cajoled as Michael kept walking.

"He looks like he's heading somewhere, Sammy. Maybe he's working," Elsa suggested.

"I know he's probably working but it would be nice to hear from him now and then."

That statement, made almost out of his hearing, stung. Sam, if you only knew…. I wish we could work together, to be friends again, but it's not possible. I have to take care of this, to pay my debt to the agency, and then we'll have plenty of time to hang out and do whatever regular people do. Michael shook his head. He'd been so deep in covert ops for so long, he had no clue what "normal" people did. He needed some serious help in that department. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face when he imagined that Sam would have a blast showing him how to relax and be a civilian.

He arrived at the meeting location with almost ten minutes to spare. He checked out the clientele, sizing them up, hoping that his contact was already there or coming soon. The music inside was a little too loud, so he retreated to the outdoor patio. Here, he and his contact could talk and hear themselves, but their conversation would blend in with the others going on around the small table he selected. Michael lowered himself into the seat with a heavy sigh. He was tired of waiting, being led around like a puppy on a leash, and the head games were getting old.

When the server asked what he wanted, he said, "Just water for now." No way was he blowing more cash on a fruitless endeavor.

"You're early, Michael."

His eyes roved to meet the woman who spoke. The tall, slim brunette wore a flowered sundress, something he would have expected a tourist to wear and not a spy. It brought back memories of an operation a couple of years ago, when she acted as his spouse. Unlike that time, her face bore no tension, only a warm smile.

He rose and offered her a hand shake. "Pearce. Long time no see. What are you doing here?"

"I'm your contact," she admitted as she took his hand and glanced around at the other patrons. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." He waited until she sat across from him before speaking. "You're my contact."

"Yes." Pearce ordered a drink from the server, and when the woman disappeared into the growing crowd, she continued, the words spilling out of her as if she'd been holding back for too long. "I feel terrible about this deception. You're not here to pick up some intel from a contact, Michael."

Puzzled, he tilted his head and asked, "What am I here for?"

"The contact you were supposed to meet at the hotel… was assigned to kill you."

A thousand thoughts and feelings ran through Michael's head, but he could only sit and stare at her.

"I understand if you don't believe me, but it's true." Pearce paused and took a deep drink from the water glass before her. "Did you ever give any thought to how the Agency would terminate your employment with them? I mean, were you given any timetable for how long you would be forced to work for the CIA?"

"No," Michael answered as he shook his head, his eyes starting at her and comprehension seeping into his brain. "I can imagine they're not going to hand me a gold-plated tchochke, shake my hand, and wish me a nice life."

"Of course not. Michael, you're dangerous. You know too much about the skeletons in the closet, and they're not going to let you go without eliminating the threat you pose."

He sighed and looked away, leaning back in his seat and trying to appear casual. "I kind of expected that they would try something. So you derailed their plans."

Pearce met his eyes, her own watering as she swallowed hard. "Yes. Your last mission was a success and the Agency has enough information to finish cleaning house without you. Unfortunately, now they see you as part of the housecleaning process." She leaned forward and said, "You should go find a deserted tropical island somewhere and live a long, happy life."

Michael, to his surprise, laughed at her suggestion. However, it sounded stilted and nervous in his ears. "Dani, you and I know that I'd never be happy."

"Would you rather be unhappy and alive, or unhappy and dead?" She let out a deep sigh and sat back in her chair, her hands pushing the hair tight against her head. Frustration creased her forehead and brought a frown to her face before she closed in again. "I know that you want to find Fiona and make things right with her before it's too late. But I'm warning you, that would be suicide for both of you."

"You don't know what this has been like for me…."

"I know more than you'd think. Card exiled me to Mumbai, remember? If I didn't have friends in high places, I'd still be there. Although, the favor didn't come without a price, and I'm paying for it, like you." Her eyes drifted to the drink that the server set before her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's not common knowledge." She gulped her drink and slammed the glass on the table, and as the remaining contents sloshed over the rim, she said, "I suggest you get out of here, find someplace where no one would suspect you would go, and stay there. Don't tell anyone, not even your best friend."

"You know, I just saw Sam on my way here…."

"Stay away from Sam, unless you want to risk his life too. And Jesse and your Mom." Pearce shoved her chair back and stood. "I have to go before someone sees me with you." She extended her hand across the table and said, "Good luck, Michael. And watch your back until you disappear."

Pearce left so quickly and melded into the people on the sidewalk, Michael almost thought he'd dreamed that he'd seen her, but he saw the back of her head. She had been there, and now she was gone. His phone sounded off, announcing he had a text message.

Michael, we're waiting for you. You're buying the next round, buddy.

"I don't think so, Raines," Michael muttered. He slipped his phone into his pocket, and as he left the restaurant, he dropped a few bills onto the server's tray as he walked past her. "That should take care of the drinks for me and my friend."

He kept walking northward away from his room and the hotel bar where Raines waited. He had told Michael that he was bringing along a couple of men who had an opportunity for him. Raines wouldn't give him details on the phone, and as he walked, Michael replayed the conversation in his mind.

"Michael, this is a golden opportunity for you. These men have a special assignment for you, highly secretive, but also very lucrative," Raines announced with excitement in his voice. "I guarantee you won't have to worry again how you'll live, because you'll be all set!"

When Michael pondered Raines' words, he realized that they could be taken two ways. On the surface it seemed as if a chance to make some serious money was coming his way. On a deeper level, if these men were really set on killing him, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about how he was going to live ever again, because he would be dead. He feared that someday this would be his fate, but until Dani dropped the bombshell, there was no reason to read between the lines. He had to go somewhere and think, to figure this out for himself. Would he trust Dani more and save his own life, or go back to the man who gave him a new chance with the Agency but was now possibly prepared to kill him?

For now, Michael would keep walking until he found a place where he could pay in cash and lay low for awhile. Once he had a plan, he could come out of hiding and hopefully he would discover that Dani was wrong. If she was right, he needed an exit strategy.