PLAN Y

"Got everything?" Scotty asked him.

What little there is, yeah," Kelly ground out in reply. He took a hard drag on the cigarette, blew a vicious stream of smoke, and lobbed a glare back at Nate. "You know, I feel like I'm being… sent to the principal's office, or something."

"Well, you are in a way," said Scotty.

"Thanks – that doesn't help." Kelly stopped before the elevator door, punched the down button then jammed the cigarette into the nearby sand-topped container. He stood there, wishing the doors open, jiggling a little because he just couldn't stand still and have them stare at him, watching his every move. Nate's hand kept slipping inside his coat to the gun surely holstered there, and Scotty-

Scotty was just plain worried, even though he could mask it well. It didn't help that Kelly's shoulder was still burning from stress this morning; Scotty had certainly noticed his attempt to stretch it out just after the shower. And there was no hiding the dark circles under his eyes. Normally a haggard face would bring some moments of glee to Scotty, who would needle him about his dedication to keeping up his playboy cover. But Scotty wouldn't laugh over this kind of haggard, or over a bad shoulder.

"Try to get some sleep on the plane," Scotty quietly counseled now, reading his thoughts.

"Certainly," Kelly answered. "Better than any conversation ol' Nate here might offer."

"I'm doing my job, Kelly," Nate growled from behind him.

"Yeah, yeah, so you say," Kelly muttered as the elevator door opened. It was empty so he stepped inside.

Scotty settled in at his side, right by his flight bag, as if he knew that Kelly was considering whalloping Nate with it and then bolting. Then Scotty quietly placed a hand on Kelly's wrist, and sent over that little warning glance. Kelly sighed lightly in acquiescence, and the hand slipped off his. He went silent as the doors closed behind them and the car whooshed downward, but could not keep completely still. Once these doors opened, the process of professionally denuding him would be complete. They already had his gun and extra ammo clips, his identification badge, extra cash, his pocketknife, the case of lock picks, the hidden cyanide pills – all the physical tools of his trade. Shipping him back to Washington, under guard, was the last necessary action.

"Does it help to know that I was sent to the principal's office a time or two myself?" Scotty finally offered to him.

Kelly's smile was tight but he tried to go with the levity anyway. "Is that right, Jack? You?"

"Yes, indeed-y," Scotty grinned.

"Well, I'm shocked, sir, shocked at your admission," Kelly declared. Behind him Nate was seething, which delighted him. Anything to aggravate at this point was worth it – what else could they do to him? "Your mother must have been terribly disappointed in you – and I thought you were a Boy Scout. I distinctly remember watching you whittle up a little fire in a certain locked room in Palm Springs last year. What have you to say for yourself, sir?"

"I had to fight for my honor," Scotty answered solemnly.

"Yes, certainly you did."

"I did," Scotty agreed.

"And just how, or with who – whom – did this altercation occur, sir?"

"Well, one time Egghead Wilson made a pass at my girlfriend Dolores…"

"Sorry about that for Mister Wilson," Kelly responded. Nate made a noise of frustration. "Pray tell," Kelly continued, "was he all cracked like Humpty Dumpty after the fall when you were done?"

"He was," Scotty confirmed with a grin. "And I got a righteous kiss from Dolores for that."

"To the victor go the spoils," Kelly quipped.

"Yes. And then another time Pooper Grimes-"

"Excuse me? Pooper Grimes, you say?"

"Yes, that's what we all called him."

"Of course. So tell me…"

The elevator doors opened and Nate gave him a little nudge. Kelly glared back at him, but stepped outside, Scotty still close to his side; actually too close, with an elbow into his arm.

"Well, here we are," Kelly announced in a sarcastic tone as they reached the lobby doors.

"Bring the car around," Nate told Scotty, practically pushing him out of the way. He stepped into Scotty's space. "Out on the curb, Kelly, right with me." Kelly stopped short of rolling his eyes at Scotty, but understood – Nate was being completely by-the-book cautious. No doubt two or more agents from the Embassy would greet them at the airport for the escorted ride to Washington. No doubt Washington had already been alerted of Agent Robinson's imminent and shameful return. They'd probably cuff him for the whole trip, too, and insist on observing any in-flight trips to the head.

One thing was certain right now – Agent Alexander Scott would not be traveling with them. Though Kelly would miss the calm steadiness of his partner, it would be a relief to know that Scotty would be working on the case here. And if anyone could get something out of his accuser, the unflappable Anthony Hampton of Her Majesty's Secret Service, it would be the equally unflappable Alexander Scott of the United States Pentagon.

"I'll take your bag." Scotty plucked it from his fingers and walked ahead.

They stepped out onto the hotel curb and waited in the sunny Acapulco offering. Kelly glanced up, squinting at the sun, and reached for his sunglasses; if nothing else he could at least use them to ward off any more scrutiny – Nate poked him hard.

"If you're so nervous, why didn't you just search me back in the room?" Kelly groused at him, catching the meaning. He dropped his hand.

"You're a top agent, Kelly, what do you expect me to do?" Nate questioned angrily, his voice strained.

And you don't believe Hampton, either, Kelly silently guessed.

Scotty was swinging the car around.

"Let's go," Nate pointed.

With a little bit more sympathy for Nate, Kelly stepped up to the car, pulled the back door open-

Go just go don't run don't dawdle easy like always cool be cool mingle pause keep going keep going listen…no shouts no running feet quick glance…okay no one nothing nothing easy easy keep going

Sorry Scotty sorry better this way…I know you hate it I know…

Keep going walk walk be cool easy easy

Sorry Scotty

Sorry