Chapter 7- Plans

The next few days were routine. They couldn't do anything until Sam had the blackmail photos and materials, and Elizabeth and Antony were being extra careful. Michael talked to Kent and promised that he was working, when really he was trapped in the loft with Campbell and Fiona—who had more mood swings than there were moods. After three jars of pickles and sixteen cups of raspberry chocolate mousse yogurt, Sam finally had some news.

He walked into the loft with an arm load of items and headed straight for the bed where Fiona was seated. "Look what Uncle Sammy brought you today, li'l MJ or CJ. We've got that fancy yogurt, pickles, chips, and juice. And for your mom I've got the new editions of: Guns and Ammo, Rifles Unlimited, Firearms and more, and Parenting."

She took them pointedly. "MJ or CJ?"

"Mike Jr. or Campbell Jr."

She took in stride and replied, "Uncle Sammy?"

"Well yeah. I'm Uncle Sammy. Uncle Sam is way too patriotic for me. Sammy sounds more fun and family friendly."

"You have news?" Michael interrupted.

"I do. It's not good, Mike. We've encountered a bit of a…problem."

"Problem?"

"Our entire plan is sort of…screwed up."

"How?"

"Kent must have told his wife about you. Elizabeth got your picture off of the security cameras at the office and gave it to the gang. They've put three hits out. One on Campbell, one on Fi, and one on you…who's also Campbell for some reason…"

Campbell looked up from the old edition of Parenting. "Hits?"

"Yeah. They want all three of you dead. Whatever they're importing must be pretty heavy stuff. We can't play on the private investigator angle and now none of you can leave."

Michael wanted to jump off of the balcony. It was already tense enough. With just Sam working on the job, it could take a very long time to finish it. How would they get Fi to her appointments?

Sam sensed the apprehension. "Don't worry about it. We'll find a way to get Fi to and from the doctor's. Anywhere else is off limits. I'm thinking that the blackmail thing isn't going to work without repercussions. I think that we'll have to get the cops in on it. We can only do that after we get enough proof that more than adultery and money laundering is going on. Any ideas?"

"We need into their gang. If we have a man on the inside, we'll have something to take to the police…" Michael responded distractedly. He was doomed to being roommates with Campbell for life. He knew that he was. What if they couldn't solve it? They'd have to relocate him. What if Fi's baby was his? Fi would have to go with him…

"How? They're best buds! We should go in as the customer," Sam argued.

"But we don't even know what they're doing. You're the only one that can work this. We can't afford a mistake. The safer option is to find a way into the gang itself. Look into it. See if there's any way to get in. If not, we'll figure something else out."

Sam nodded. "Fine, but you'll have to stay here until it's safe again. We can't risk leading anyone back here. Not with Fi and junior on the line."

"How will we get the things we need or to the hospital?" Campbell asked as he nervously took Fiona's hand in his own. Michael tried to pretend that he didn't notice. He did.

"Anything you need I can pick up. Maddie and I can take turns carpooling her to her appointments. I doubt you'll have too many to sneak to. We should get you out of here soon. Meanwhile, consider it a vacation without actually going anywhere."

"That makes no sense," Fi growled. Sam tossed his hands up defensively.

"Sorry. I was just trying to make the situation a little easier to take."

"Thanks, Sam. Keep us updated on what's going on," Michael sighed as the reality sunk in. He was stuck inside with them for at least a week. Oh joy.

"Will do, Mikey. Take it easy, Fi…" he paused as he got to Campbell and decided a stiff nod was good enough. "I'll be in touch."

He left and Fiona plopped—as much as she could plop—onto the bed. "You know what this reminds me of, Michael?"

He thought back and a smile spread across his face. "Lisburn just outside of Belfast."

"We were stuck inside for a month to avoid some angry men with guns," she explained to the confused and left behind Campbell.

"Oh. Why were they mad at you?"

Michael and Fiona exchanged glances. "It's complicated…"

"We have time. It isn't like we're going anywhere," he joked weakly.

Fiona started the story and Michael looked up at the stairs trying to figure out how many times he'd have to fall down them before his neck broke. It sounded like more fun than rehashing his life story with his new bunkmate.

After a while, there was only so much working out someone could do before it got old. A week went by and Sam still hadn't found anything. Campbell kept to himself mostly or talked to Fi about anything he could think of. Michael tried to keep busy with working out, cleaning out his computer, reorganizing the loft, creating working transmitters from scratch, making new slicks, and trying to beat his record time of resembling his favorite handgun. But as the week drew to a close, he was ready to let the hitman do his job. Being bored wasn't enough. No, he had to be stuck with the most boring human on the planet. The most boring human on the planet who was trying to take away his Fiona's attention.

"The top five names for a boy this year are: Jacob, Ethan, Joshua, Daniel, and Alexander…" Campbell announced as he read Parenting out loud. It was either that or gun catalogs, and of course he wasn't a fan of violence. Wimp.

"Isn't early to be thinking about names?" she asked from her place reclining on the bed.

"Maybe, but my parents had names picked out even before they had kids. I think it's kind of cool to know who they'll be before they're born."

"I'm only in my second trimester."

Michael didn't say anything. He was too busy cleaning his guns for the fifteenth time.

"I know. It's interesting to know what the popular names are, though."

She sighed. "I suppose. I'm more a fan of the popular models of rifles for the year than names…"

"Here are the ones for a baby girl: Emma, Isabella, Emily, Madison, and Claire."

Michael's head snapped up from the workbench. He saw the horrified look on Fiona's face and the tears about to fall as she echoed the last name. "Claire?"

"Yeah. Claire. Do you like it?" he blindly asked.

She started to cry and Michael ran to her side with a death glare in Campbell's direction. He gathered her into his arms and she sobbed into his shirt.

"What did I say?" Campbell frowned.

"She had a sister named Claire. She died."

"Oh…" he realized. "I'm sorry, Fiona. I didn't know."

"I have some good…" Sam trailed off and shut the door behind him. He took in the scene and decided that it was best if he didn't ask. "…news. I think I've found a way in."

That perked Fiona up. "You have?" she sniffed as she untangled herself from Michael's grasp.

"Yeah. I thought that Kent Brent was a dried up source since he stopped calling you ages ago, but I'm starting to rethink that. I managed to get a few shots of Elizabeth with Antony outside of one of his properties. They were hot and heavy and I caught it all on film. I also got a few pictures of the shipment going into the property. Take a look at this, Mike."

He handed him the picture. He couldn't believe it. "All of this…over wine?"

"People will pay top dollar for their wines. Problem is, some wines aren't allowed into the country because of the mix of alcohol and grapes. This wine is top dollar, premium mix. Three sips of that and you're drunk as a skunk. It's big with the rich folks around here. There's something about getting their wine illegally that makes them feel all warm and tingly."

"Our resident drunk would know," Fiona smirked, having recovered from her outburst. Campbell was still feeling rather bad about it, and a little jealous that Michael knew more about her life than he did.

"I would. I'm more of a mixed drink person personally, but wine isn't bad. Now that we know what they're selling, we can play both sides. We can go in as the customer and as the private investigator. We'll get to go into the workings of their operation and stage it so Kent shows up with the cops at the perfect time. The bad guys get thrown in jail and everyone can go back to their lives," Sam explained happily.

"Good work, Sam. It sounds good. Approach Kent as a consultant on the case. Tell him the plan, but make sure that he'll wait until the right time. The last thing we need is for him to wreck the entire operation," Michael replied.

"I'm on it, Mikey. You'll be out of here in no time. I'll bring by some more supplies when I get the chance."

He clapped him on the back and merrily exited the loft. Michael didn't get his hopes up. He knew that it couldn't be over so soon. That was just his luck.