Fiona's eyes widen and shine in the faint glow from the street light at the end of the lane.
"Michael MacBride, are you telling me you've never set a shape charge before?
Michael shakes his head no. "My line runs more to firearms and the like."
She sniffs, clearly unimpressed at his lack of versatility.
"Show me," he says.
"Alright. We don't have much time, so pay attention." She rummages in her bag and hands him a roll of duct tape. "Hold this."
He takes it from her and waits patiently while she pulls out a small reel of detonation chord. She hands him the loose end.
"Tape that along the mortar between the bricks. That's the weakest point."
She feeds out the line and he follows with the tape. When they reach the top of the area they want to breach, she stretches over him to do it herself, and her chest is level with his face. He knows it would make more sense for him to do the top part, but he's not about to speak up. When her breast brushes his cheek, he realizes it's not entirely accidental.
"Okay," she says, reaching the starting point. "Once more around should do it."
He puts his hand over hers as he takes the det chord and flashes her a smile.
"I'll do it. You get the detonator ready."
She looks at him for a beat before bending to her bag once more, giving him a glimpse of cleavage. He turns his attention to the task, hiding his grin. She's obvious, but in a playful way he finds appealing. It's too early yet for him to make a move. Better to play hard to get, maintain the upper hand.
Fiona talks him through attaching the detonator, and they retreat to a safe distance.
She pulls a balaclava over her face, and he does the same. "Ready?"
He takes his pistol from his waistband. "Ready."
The blast is impressive, and before the smoke clears, they're in the bank, right where they want to be. Unfortunately, so is a security guard. He's stunned by the explosion, and Fiona is on him before he has the chance to react.
"Hands on your head. Down on your knees." She holds her pistol against his temple as he complies. He's just a kid – can't be more than 20.
Michael decides to do the talking. "He'll be alright." He takes a few steps towards the guard, but Fiona upends her pistol and cracks him on the head, knocking him out cold.
"What? We can't be too careful. He'll be fine." She shrugs. "Now, let's get what we came for and get out of here."
They're back out through the hole in the wall in under three minutes, and reach the car before they hear the wail of sirens. Fi tosses the gym bag with the cash and equipment in the boot while Michael starts the engine. He drives steadily, and the first cop car passes them in the opposite direction. As the second approaches, Fi rolls down the window and leans out, gesturing wildly. "They went that way!"
Michael's head snaps around and he grabs her arm to pull her back into her seat. "What the hell are you doing?"
She's laughing. "Oh, relax, Michael. Have a little fun."
XXXXX
Sam sips his beer and shakes his head. "What did I tell you, Mikey? That woman is a head case. But –" he gestures with the hand holding the glass, "She is into you. You can use that."
"Maybe." Michael wipes some beer foam from his lip with his thumb.
"No, no, this is good. I mean, she's crazy, but it's good. Make her come to you." Sam nods and takes another drink before getting a thoughtful expression. "It's too bad I can't give you some of the old Sammy magic. Works like a charm. I remember this one girl in Germany…"
"Yeah, thanks for that. The Westen charm seems to be working just fine."
"Hmm. I guess." Sam watches Michael carefully. It is good that Fiona seems to be falling for Mike, if they want to work that angle, but the situation makes him uneasy. This is not a woman to take for granted, and there's something about Mike's voice when he talks about her… No, this could get tricky.
"So, how are things back in Russia? You were stationed there, what, two years?"
Mike's leaning back in his chair, his fingers lightly touching his beer glass. He nods. "On and off."
"That's a long time, Mikey. Practically a lifetime for a spy. Set down any roots?" Sam keeps his tone casual, but he's watching. He catches the blink.
"Not really." His eyes smile over the top of his glass as he takes a drink. "Make them come to you, isn't that what you said, Sam?" He drains his glass and stands. "I gotta go. Thanks for the beer."
"Yeah, any time." Sam doesn't get up. He calls over his shoulder "Next time, you're buying, right, Mike?"
XXXXX
That was a long time ago. And now here she is, in Mike's apartment in Miami. Back in Mike's life. And there is still something about her that makes Sam uneasy. He's not sure Miss Glenanne is a good influence on Mike. She could get him into trouble. Which is funny, really, as Sam is the one who is informing on him. But hey, a guy has to protect his pension, right?
Mike understands. That's how the game is played. Fiona, though. She's never been one to obey the rules. He'll have to keep an eye on her.