My deepest thanks to Unwittingcatalyst and Purdyspal. One inspires and the other makes sure it gets done. I desperately need both.

Thanks to everyone for reading. Your time is greatly appreciated.


Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are.
~Bertold Brecht

Chapter 2

Stopped at a red light, Michael dialled Sam's cell.

By the second ring, Sam's cheery voice came over the line, "Hey there, Mikey." In the background Michael could hear a muttering female voice. Michael pictured Sam holding up his hand in apology with a crooked smile as he said, "I'll just be a moment, darlin', then we can get right back to that discussion."

Once the light changed, Michael was easily moving through traffic. Picturing his friend, Michael couldn't help the smile that started or the slight shake of his head. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"Oh no, it's fine. It's usually life or death when you call. What's a little interruption compared to that?" Through the phone, Michael could see the innocent face and the shrug Sam would be giving the woman.

"Can you meet me at Carlito's?" Michael asked.

"If that's what you need, I can make it happen." There was a click as Sam ended the call. He seemed awfully glad to be escaping from his afternoon date. Michael would make it a point to not ask. In an interrogation, you don't stop until you have even the smallest details. With a friend, sometimes you're just better off not knowing.

A few minutes later Michael was able to pull into an open parking spot directly across from their favourite hangout. As he entered the bar, the waitress gave him a friendly wave and gestured to a table that she had just finished cleaning. He acknowledged the spot with a smile and took his seat; angled so he could see both the main door and the entrance from the patio.

Leaning back in his chair, Michael mused about his earlier meeting with Victoria DiLeo. Thoughts of her father bringing up memories he'd locked away long ago. They worked together on several missions in Serbia, Bosnia and surrounding Yugoslav countries. They first met when Angelo had tagged along with Sam to one of their 'Congratulations!-We-survived-another-mission' nights. Michael's usual standoffish behaviour had succumbed to the joie de vivre of the two SEALs, and afterwards Angelo joined the small number of people Michael called a friend. The memories brought him to the time he heard of Angelo's death.

It was during a de-brief with Raines after an information gathering job in Moscow. Raines asked what he knew about the dust- up between the SEALs and the terrorist group in the Bosnian mountains. Michael had to think as that was a few weeks back and several missions ago.

Though Michael and the SEALs had a different objective, the target was the same. They were focused on a terrorist cell hiding amongst a group of rebels in the mountains outside of Sarajevo. Michael was after information; the SEALs were to neutralize the threat. Michael was in and out and the SEALs seemed to have everything under control when he left on his CIA provided extraction chopper.

Raines filled him in; there had been a leak somewhere along the lines. Before the SEAL team completed their task, the terrorists had prepared a counter attack. It was a bloody battle. The SEALs managed to gain the upper hand and take the terrorists out. All things considered, the casualties were relatively light. The SEALs lost only one - Angelo DiLeo.

The memory brought out a quiet sigh. Michael checked his watch and noticed that several minutes had slipped by while he was lost in his past. Just as Michael was wondering how long it would take his mother to pat Victoria on the shoulder and say 'that's all right, dear', he saw the old Ford parking across the street. Victoria exited the car and looked both ways before quickly crossing. She came up the steps from the sidewalk and took the seat next to Michael.

Their waitress noticed the additional customer and stopped at their table to take their orders. She asked if any of his friends would be joining them.

"Sam will be along shortly," Michael answered.

The waitress nodded, "Two iced teas and two beers, it is. I'll be back in a moment."

This was the kind of case he could get used to. Solved without any bullets flying; and within an hour of starting, it would be ended with some of Sam's tall tales and a cold drink.

Victoria glanced around the friendly bar before smiling her approval, "Nice."

"Sorry about leaving you with my mother," Michael started to apologize.

Victoria gave a soft laugh, "Oh please, don't worry about it. She's quite sweet. After I promised to stay in touch, she gave me directions here."

Michael could feel his heart pick up its pace. He had nothing against Victoria, but he couldn't help the feeling that crept over him. The very idea of how his mother might put the smallest pieces of his past together, correctly or incorrectly, made him nervous.

With a bright smile Michael suggested, "Sam can tell some pretty racy stories. My mother is on medication. It might be for the best if you didn't pass along too many details."

A thoughtful frown crossed Victoria's features. She seemed to be reconciling his mother's boisterous image with this bit of information. "Sure," she cautiously gave a slight nod of her head. "I won't pass along your boys' gossip."

Michael doubted Victoria believed his mother to be sickly, but she seemed to understand that he wanted to limit the spread of his personal stories.

"From what your mother was telling me, before you arrived, I thought you were very close," Victoria commented, a slight puzzled look on her face. "You don't seem to share that sentiment."

Michael was saved from a response as the waitress appeared, delivering their iced teas. Michael practically tore it from the waitress' hand.

"Great iced tea," he explained before he took a long gulp.

The waitress didn't comment as she placed Sam's beers on the table, but she did give him an odd look. Michael smiled around his straw, but continued to sip the drink, avoiding conversation for a few minutes more. He watched Victoria reach for her purse, but stop herself with a quick shake of her head, only to repeat the action one more time.

"You need something?" he asked, his paranoia keying up his senses. She didn't look like an agency type, but it would be hard to explain his poor deductions if he were dead.

A slight blush coloured her cheeks and she looked down at her hands, now resting on her lap. "Would it be too awkward if I took notes?" She reached back into her bag and pulled out a pen and a lined pad of paper, putting them on the table in front of her. "I really know very little of my father."

Definitely not an agency type. He couldn't hide the grin that spread across his face. Oh, Sam would owe him for this. This should count for at least the next three favours. A pretty young woman just desperate to hear Sam's stories; she'd be hanging on his every word. If Fiona were here, she'd be looking for something sharp to deflate the ego boost this was going to give the ex-SEAL. That was a sobering thought. He'd have to keep those two apart for a day or two, before Sam's gloating got him killed.

Seeing his friend coming up the sidewalk, Michael quietly said, "You could ask him, but it may be better if you just wrote your notes under the table."

Victoria eyed him curiously, but moved her pen and paper off the table and slid them onto her lap, hiding them as he suggested, under the table.

Sam quickly weaved his way between tables. When he reached them, he stretched across the table to shake Victoria's hand and introduce himself. Whatever he had escaped from hadn't left any marks, Michael noted. Sam sat down and immediately took a drink from one of the bottles waiting for him.

"Ahh," Sam leaned back into his chair, looking grateful to be out in the sunshine. He looked over to Victoria with a quizzical look. "So, you're in trouble?" he asked, but it came out as more of a statement.

A small smirk appeared on Victoria's face as Sam had unwittingly started off with the exact words Michael had greeted her with. This time Michael wanted to be the one to spring the surprise and see his friend's reaction. He replied, "No, she's looking for a friend of her father's."

Sam's eyebrows rose, silently questioning Michael. He raised the bottle, but before drinking he asked, "This friend hiding out from a biker gang?"

Both Michael and Victoria shook their heads.

"Wanted by a Columbian cartel?"

They shook their heads again.

"A rich relative died and left him millions?" this asked with a hopeful grin.

Michael couldn't help the laugh that his friend inspired. He decided it was time to stop the games and give way to Victoria getting some answers.

"Sam, I'd like you to meet Victoria DiLeo."

Sam's expression quickly changed to one of shock and surprise, "Angelo's daughter?"

Victoria slowly nodded her head. The bottle in Sam's hand almost dropped onto the table.

Sam lowered his head to give himself a moment, but Michael caught the look his friend tried to hide; a fleeting glimpse of fear had crossed those normally bright and friendly features. It was only a second or two before Sam looked back up. A wary version of the friendly outlook he'd had before now in place. "You're dad talked a lot about his family. He was a good man. I'm sorry for your loss."

Michael knew Sam hated losing friends, who didn't? But it happened fifteen years ago and yet his friend looked as stricken as if he'd only heard about it yesterday. Michael tried to hide his surprise at Sam's reaction, but didn't think he was too successful as Sam cast a quick glance at him before fidgeting in his seat. Michael couldn't fathom why Sam wasn't hugging Victoria's rib cage into mush by now, loudly making outrageous claims to some daring-do that no one would be able to prove or disprove.

"Victoria was hoping you would share some of those SEAL stories you're always going on about," Michael couldn't believe he had to get Sam started on a conversation. He hid his worry behind the tall glass of iced tea as he took a slow sip. He leaned back in his chair so he could see both of the other people at the table. Victoria looked subdued, a crease of worry across her forehead.

"Stories? Sure. Sure, I've got lots," Sam hid an uncomfortable sigh under a short laugh. He picked up his beer bottle but didn't take a drink. He rolled the bottle between his palms and seemed to become lost in his thoughts.

"Sam?" Michael started to reach out for his friend's shoulder, but Sam looked up, seemed to realize he was being watched and became animated once again.

"Hey, did I ever tell you about the time Angelo and I met?" Sam leaned forward, and placed the beer back onto the table so he could use his hands to describe the events. He went on about a SEAL training exercise where this big mouthed Italian guy and he kept trading the leading points and it came down to the 800 yard sniper shot. Angelo took his shot, but the exercise was called before Sam was able to take his turn. A medical emergency had come from further back on the course and they had to make way for the medical services to get through. Sam and Angelo had started their friendship that day. Afterwards they always joked with grand bragging gestures over who would have won that exercise.

"You never found out?" Victoria asked. "Never had another opportunity to finish?"

"Nah," Sam leaned back in his chair. "There were lots of training exercises, but SEALs are team based. Sometimes we were placed on the same team. Sometimes not." He shrugged. "After training, we were on assignment and worked together."

"Mom used to tell me that dad had a very competitive nature," Victoria had her hands in her lap, hidden from Sam by the table. Michael watched as she jotted notes, but kept her eyes on the man across from her. "There's a cabinet full of trophies back home."

Michael could hear the challenge in her voice; he knew that she only had exaggerated stories and old memories to cling to. Sam must have realized this too, as he didn't reply with his usual bluster, but quietly agreed with the young woman, "Your dad was one of the best."

There was a stretch of silence that was fast approaching awkward. Michael watched as Sam continued to look uncomfortable, he was rubbing his right shoulder and eyeing his untouched beer, but Michael doubted that it was the bottle that Sam was seeing. Suddenly Sam rose from his seat. He snapped his fingers as he said, "I just remembered, I gotta go meet someone." Sam looked at his watch, "And I'm late. Sorry to run off like this, but I'm sure you know how it is?" He didn't give Victoria a chance to acknowledge if she understood or not as Sam had already backed two steps away and was bumping into their waitress.

"Ah, Katie. Sorry about that." He apologized as he stood up one of the empty bottles that had fallen over on her tray. He pulled a twenty from his pocket and placed it alongside the bottle. "This should cover the tab. Keep the change." Sam quickly headed toward the patio exit. He turned midway, "Victoria, it was a pleasure to meet you. Mikey, umm I'll …see you later?" With a quick wave of his hand, he was gone, blending in with the crowd on the sidewalk.

Victoria's eyes were wide, whether with surprise or shock, Michael didn't care to classify. She managed to close her gaping mouth before turning to Michael.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, looking hurt and confused.

"No." Michael was never good at explaining himself, he never thought he'd have to try and explain Sam. "You heard him. He was late. I'm sure it's nothing personal." He offered his most toothy grin as he took another long sip of his iced tea.