Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Burn Notice. It is the property of the USA Network. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
This was written for the new fanfic_bakeoff community at LiveJournal. It is a multi-fandom, anything goes community – as long as you incorporate the prompt somehow and keep the drabbles between 100 and 300 words. This series of seven drabbles was written for the first prompt which was "catch" and lasts through the month of February.
Someone needs your help, Michael!
...
Scene 1: Can't we shoot them?
Words: 300
"Can't we just shoot them?" Fi asked in her usually charming way.
"For once, I'm with Fi on this one," Sam agreed. "Why can't we just shoot them?"
"Or blow them up – that works for me, too," she added ernestly.
[Voice of Michael Weston] When you're a spy, you can't always take the easiest way out of something. Sometimes, the easiest way out brings unwanted attention to something else. For instance, when you're a burned spy you don't really want a lot of officials, like from the sheriff's office or the police, asking questions. And while shooting drug pushers or arms dealers would probably be written off as consequences of a deal gone bad or vengeance of a rival, killing a group of suburban mothers will only create outrage over their deaths and someone to blame – not questions about why they might have been killed.
Michael sighed and stabbed at his yogurt with the spoon. "First of all, we don't have actual proof yet that they're guilty. We need to catch them in the act – to expose them for what they really are."
"Who's going to believe a bunch of soccer moms are running a child pornography ring? Not only that, they're selling the kids that have disappeared after practice into slavery?" Madeline Weston had joined them, cup of coffee in one hand and cigarette in the other.
"See, that's another reason we can't just kill them," Michael reasoned. "We need to find out what has happened to those children."
Sam nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll call around and see what I can find out. I'm pretty certain they were all mail-order brides from Russia. It can't be an accident that they all ended up in the same area."
Fiona pouted. I'd still rather shoot them.
...
Scene 2: Background Check
Words: 300
They were back in Madeline's kitchen and Sam had a number of documents scattered on the table, beer in hand. "I was right. Every one of the women we suspect was a mail-order bride. Not only are they all from Russia, they were from the same republic, Oryol, which is just a speck on the Russian landscape. I thought that can't be coincidence, so I did some more checking around. They are married to Russian immigrants that came over after the fall of the USSR. They all work for the same boat yard here in Miami."
Michael interrupted, "Is there any indication that the husbands are involved?"
Sam shook his head. "I went down there and checked them out. They're all hard working guys and bust their balls from dawn until it's too dark to see. From what I found out, none of them were married when they came over. Since they had a hard time learning English, they didn't do well when it came to women - and of course any proper Russian male wants a wife. So, one of them broke down and got himself a mail-order bride—"
"And she turned out to be such a good catch that his buddies decided they wanted one, too." Madeline sat back and took a drag from her cigarette. "So, Michael, what are we going to do about this?"
"Tell me again how you got me involved?" Michael asked his mother.
She flicked the ash from her cigarette. "I told you, Michael – Mrs. Carmody down the block was hysterical because her granddaughter vanished. The police told her that they thought it was related to other disappearances in the same area but they haven't found any clues."
"So we need to help the police catch a break," Fiona surmised.
Michael groaned.
...
Scene 3: Innocent or Guilty?
Words: 300
[Voice of Michael Weston] It's hard to believe that a group of suburban mothers, wives of hard-working honest men, could be involved in international child pornography, much less the kidnapping and sale of children. It's the type of industry that the normal human believes is run by perverts and very bad men. And yet, here we have in the suburbs of Miami a group of seemingly normal women doing very bad things. With their husbands gone all day six days a week, it leaves them with time on their hands. While the average suburban housewife is baking cookies, catching a soap opera, going to recitals, or shopping, this group has come up with their own diversion. Also, it is difficult to believe that a bunch of mail-order brides don't have some outside help. So before we bring down the soccer moms, we need to find out who is really in charge.
"I have an idea," Fiona stated.
"Did you eat the last yogurt?" Michael's head was stuck in the refrigerator.
Fi admitted, "Yes. But I got some more – they're in the bottom drawer."
The burned spy found what he was looking for. Spoon in hand, he joined her at the counter in his flat. "Okay, you have an idea that doesn't involve shooting everyone or blowing them up."
Sam joined them. "I have to hear this."
"I did some surveillance on the soccer fields where the children were grabbed. Several of the mothers we think are involved have their own kids, and at least two of them have a child that fits the profile of the others taken," Fiona started.
"Blond hair, blue eyes, under ten years old," Sam said.
"Soooooo, what are you going with this, Fi?" Michael questioned.
Fiona asked, "Do you want to catch them, or not?"
...
Scene 4: Fiona has an idea
Words: 264
Michael groaned. "It's a bad idea."
"But you haven't heard it yet!" Fiona protested.
"I say hear her out, Mikey. It might be the only way," Sam said.
"Why thank you, Sam," Fiona said. "Michael, I promise it doesn't involve shooting anyone."
Michael crossed his arms. "But I'll bet it does involve kidnapping."
Fiona shrugged her shoulders. "No one will get hurt – or at least that's the plan."
"Just think about it, Mike – we grab a kid that fits the profile. The mother will get hysterical and run straight to where they're keeping the children. I haven't been able to find any information about the black market sale of children directly out of the Miami area, so it's possible they're sending them overseas where the laws are more lax. If we grab one kid it might help free all of the others," Sam insisted. "Chances are that they are holding them all together until they can send them to wherever it is they have planned."
[Voice of Michael Weston] Sometimes, when a plan comes together, you have to do things that you do not want to do. Kidnapping a child probably fall near the top of the list of "The Top Ten Things I Never Wanted to do as a Spy". But sometimes, doing something that goes against everything you ever believed becomes necessary.
Michael sighed in defeat. "Okay, tell me your plan."
"Even I want to hear this," Sam agreed.
"Are you going to be quiet and listen, or keep talking?" Fiona asked irritably.
"You have the floor," Michael said. "Let's hear it."
...
Scene 5: A plan comes together
Words: 300
Fiona grinned in triumph. "We lure the kid away and grab them, preferably somewhere around the soccer field since that seems to be the target area. My surveillance showed that the moms are kind of lax about picking up their own kids since they know they are in no danger. We just need to make sure that someone sees them getting into a car with a stranger, and that should set off all kinds of bells and whistles."
"And…" Michael prompted.
"The mother finally gets around to coming to pick her kid up, and an innocent bystander tells her the child left with someone else," Fiona continued.
"And…"
"Michael! Let me finish! The mom will immediately think that her precious baby was taken by mistake. She knows calling the police will be a waste of time because they still have all of those children hidden away somewhere. She will either go straight to where they are kept, or to someone who knows where they are and raise hell to get her kid back," she finished.
Sam cocked his head. "Not a bad idea – but what do we do with the kid once we catch 'em?"
"Do I have to think of everything?" Fi asked irately.
"We really don't want a screaming frightened child," Michael said. "If we do this, we need somewhere to take her."
"Or him – they don't seem to care which sex they grab," Sam interjected. He slammed his hand down on the counter. "I know! There's a new theme park opening and they have a special preview Friday night! I have a contact that can get me some tickets. We can tell the kid they won a pass to the park. The thing starts at four o'clock so the timing couldn't be better!"
"That's perfect!" Fiona agreed.
...
Scene 6: It's all in the preparation
Words: 297
[Voice of Michael Weston] Planning in advance almost always pays off. In this case, convincing a child that you are really someone else only requires a uniform and transportation. A bright yellow van with a magnetic sign that includes the name of the theme park and logo looks more than official to an eight-year old. Throw in the uniform they've seen all over the six o'clock news every evening for over a week, and they are bound to buy the story. Add to that hats and sunglasses for the "winners" and you have an official looking package. Every kid in Miami wants to go to the new park, but they are the lucky ones.
"I have the passes," Sam said, waving them in front of him. "They were easier than I thought to get."
"The place wasn't sold out?" Michael asked.
"Have you no faith? I told you I had an inside contact. When I told her that I wanted to anonymously send the children of some hard-working immigrants who could never afford to take them themselves, not to mention they work from dawn 'till dark every day, she gave me four children's passes plus four cash cards that will pay for food or drinks while they are there," Sam responded. "Plus I have one adult pass for their chaperone."
"Wow, all that because you wanted to help some poor kids?" Michael questioned.
Sam mumbled, "And I promised to take her out Sunday. This had better work."
"What had better work?" Madeline said as she closed the door to Michael's apartment.
"Mom, just the person I wanted to see," Michael stated.
"Michael, what are you planning?" the suspicious mother asked.
"Mom, how would you like to go to Sunnyside Up Friday night?"
"What's the catch?" Madeline asked.
...
Scene 7: Timing is everything
Words: 300
[Voice of Michael Weston] It's rare in the world of spies that something goes exactly as planned. There's always some catch, some hang-up, that makes things to awry. It doesn't seem to matter how many contingencies you prepare for, something you thought impossible manages to happen. So when everything goes exactly as you planned you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But then sometimes, you just get lucky.
Sam, Michael and Fiona were in Madeline's kitchen, watching the late night news and waiting for her to return. Once the children had been lured away, she had acted as their official chaperone at the theme park.
The exhausted older woman stormed through the door of her home. "Michael! Did you know that place was smoke-free!"
"Uh-oh," Sam muttered under his breath.
"No, Mom, I didn't. You mean you couldn't smoke outdoors?" Michael asked.
"They had one itty-bitty smoking area. Other than that, no cigarettes, cigars or pipes allowed! That should be illegal!" She slammed down into a chair at the table with them. "But they did sell alcohol. Thank God for small favors." With trembling hands, she pulled a cigarette from her purse.
"Here, let me." Sam held a lighter for her.
Madeline took a drag. "Much better." She settled back into the chair and pulled off her dark wig and shades. "So, did it work? Did they catch them?"
Fiona pointed at the television. "An anonymous call led the police to their hideout."
"The children?"
"As we suspected, they were all there together. They were reported to be in fairly good shape," Sam responded. "They don't know if they'll prosecute or deport the women involved."
"But the good news is that the children are safe, and soon there should be some hard working men on the market."
"Michael!"
