Out of the ashes.
.
Chapter twelve,
Elsa Dearbon had been travelling for nearly fifteen hours, she was tired but happy to be nearly home. The business trip to London had been successful, her hosts welcoming and very entertaining. But it didn't matter where she went in the world, she always looked forward to returning to Miami. Even when she was greeted by a thunderstorm and flash flooding.
While her limousine moved at little more than a crawl along the flooded highway, Elsa kept busy reading the reports her secretary had sent to her laptop. Only glancing up when her chauffeur braked and let out a yell, she watched in horror as a man rolled across the hood of the car and fell to the ground.
"James?" She shrieked, leaning forward trying to see what happened.
"I'm sorry Ma'am he just appeared out of nowhere." James was already removing his seat belt, and getting out to investigate. Elsa grabbed an umbrella and stepped out on to the flooded road, the water inches from entering the vehicle.
Ignoring how cold her feet were getting and that the water was ruining her shoes she clung to the car and moved to the front. To discover James trying to hold a semi conscious man up out of the torrent of water that flowed about the vehicle.
Glancing at the vehicles that passed by, Elsa realized nobody was going to stop and help. They couldn't possibly stay outside in the rain waiting for an emergency vehicle to reach them as the water continued to rise.
"Get him in the car." She shouted over the noise of the rain and the traffic. Folding her umbrella away to help the chauffeur manoeuvre the injured man onto the back seat of her car.
She looked him over feeling the feverish brow. "Go to the nearest hospital." She announced as he began to cough and groan.
At the word hospital he opened his eyes and stared at her. "No hospital." He croaked the word out, his hand gripping her arm.
"But." Elsa looked across to her driver who was waiting for instructions. The man was no help he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Please." The hand tugged on her arm. She noticed the signet ring on his finger, the gold bracelet on his wrist and chain about his neck. In her mind she was pricing these items, he was no transient. "I was attacked, if you take me to a hospital they'll find me." His eyes were pleading with her to listen, as another spasm of coughing caused him to curl up in pain.
She looked him over again, honest brown eyes, a strong jawline, not bad looking. She decided to trust her instincts. He was no threat to her. "Take me home James, and turn up the heating." She ordered the driver, and then reached for her phone calling her PA.
"Rita, get a guest room ready I'm bringing somebody back with me and call Doctor Samuels I have a patient for him." She hung up before she could be asked any awkward questions and get talked out of bringing mysterious men back to her home.
She turned her attention back to the dripping wet stranger lying across the back seat of her car. Her heart skipped a beat as she studied him. This was the most excitement she'd had in a life that had always been privileged and safe. She was fifty five years old, it was about time she allowed herself to have an adventure.
…...
It was the early hours of the morning, not long before dawn, the storm had passed by and the ground was already drying out. A figure dressed all in black lay on the flat roof of a warehouse overlooking the doors to the business premises of A1 Elite Cleaning services. Staring through the telescopic night scope attached to a M40 sniper rifle he watched as two figures also dressed in black broke into the cleaning company's warehouse.
Fifteen minutes later they came out, locking the door and resetting the alarm. The sniper flickered on the laser assist and picked out his target. Lining up squarely on the back of the shorter, feminine figure he wasted no time his finger tightening on the trigger.
Stefan Perovic followed his sister back towards the fence they had scaled to gain entrance to the industrial site. He had not been happy with this assignment as far as he was concerned it was a waste of time. They should have just blown the building and not bothered setting up an elaborate trap. He saw a red dot appear on Sasha's back, and acted immediately, shoving her forward.
Sasha Perovic landed gracelessly face down on the wet grass. Swearing in Russian she rolled over to tell her brother to be more careful. Stefan lay face down unmoving directly behind her, his neck at an unnatural angle. Drawing her hand gun she flatten down searching the darkness. The shooter had to be using a suppressor, she had no idea where the shot had come from. Carefully she inched over to Stefan he was dead, shot through the back of the neck, the ground already becoming slick with his blood.
She knew she couldn't stay lying on the ground indefinitely, the sky was already beginning to lighten. She also knew she couldn't drag her brother's corpse over an eight foot chain link fence topped with razor wire. When no more shots came, she cautiously got back to her feet.
The sniper switched off the laser assist, but continued to watch his intended target. With no easy shot, and daylight fast approaching. He decided he couldn't risk hanging about. Packing his rifle away, he made his way off the building and out of the industrial site.
…...
Even though the mattress was lumpy, and the sheets were not the high thread count Egyptian cotton she was used to Fiona snuggled down in the bed. She smiled dreamily, remembering the previous night.
Since their reunion at the storage locker Michael seemed to be a changed man. He had been treating her as if she was something precious, and though normally she might have told him off for it. After what she had been through it was nice to be appreciated and to feel loved.
She wondered briefly how long his good mood and all the affectionate behaviour would last, before he reverted to his old self. Deciding to make the most of it, she was about to turn over and see if he was awake.
When the scrape of a key in the lock changed Fiona's intentions, her hand darting under her pillow. Weapon in hand she sat up aiming at the door. Cocking the gun as the door swung open, she paused before lowering her arm. Staring at Michael, stood in the doorway with his hands raised holding shopping bags.
"Hi." He smiled at her, lowering his hands before closing the door.
"Where have you been?" She asked making the gun safe before placing it on the bedside table.
Dropping the bags, he came over to the bed and sat down next her. "I have news." He announced.
Leaning in he lifted her hair out of the away and kissed her cheek, his hand turning her face towards him so he could claim her lips. Before he could deepen the kiss, and distract her any further Fiona drew her head back.
"What news?" She asked.
"I've found Sam, or rather Sam contacted me." He stroked her cheek, his eyes focussed completely on her. The whole time he had been out, his mind had been running scenarios where she was hurt, or abducted because he had left her alone.
"Concentrate." Fiona snapped, impatient to find out what had happened.
"He's at the Dearbon Spa hotel. The woman who owns the place ran him over, and took him back to her place." Michael told her, grinning at the look of disbelieve on her face. He had felt the same way when he had listened to Sam explain what had happened.
Fiona sat back her eyes wide. "While we've been worrying about him, he's found a new lady friend?" It was something only Sam could do.
"I know." Michael replied. "He managed to get out of his car, make it on to dry land, and then literally ran into, I think he called her Elsa." He snatched another kiss, pushing her back onto the bed. Everything was good at the moment, he had his team back together and nobody was seriously hurt.
Fiona rolled out from under him, hissing as her ribs complained about the move. "We still have to find this woman who is after you. We need to get over to that warehouse and get the address of where they were holding me."
A loving and attentive Michael was a nice change from the moody and frustrated version she had been dealing with recently. But she really needed him to pull himself together now, and concentrate on the fact there was a crazy Russian trying to kill them all.
He smiled again, or rather smirked. "I've found the address we need, I thought we would go down there after breakfast."
Before he could move in on her again, Fiona got carefully to her feet. "Good, I'll get washed and dressed. You put breakfast out and then we'll get going."
Michael sat on the bed watching her as she hobbled over to the bathroom, disappointment plain on his face. With a sigh he got up and picked up one of the bags. Inside was a pot of yoghurt, two cups of coffee and a egg white only omelette in a tray.
…...
Larry opened one eye, and let out a sleepy groan. The bed was comfortable and he still ached from his variety of wounds. He watched as his phone vibrated it's way across the bedside table. With an irritated grunt he picked it up, checking the caller display before accepting the call.
"Sasha.." He answered.
"Was it you?" She cut him off, her voice so loud he moved the phone away from his ear. "If I find out it was you I'll – I'll.."
"What's happened?" He drawled, sitting up now.
"Stefan is dead." She announced. "Shot in the back."
"And you call me about it?" He asked, noting the suppressed rage in her tone.
"We were at the house cleaner's warehouse, and somebody was waiting for us. Who else knew we were going to be there?" She demanded.
"Maybe it's history repeating its self." He commented, reminding her of Michael's attempt years ago. "You know, a brother this time instead of a boyfriend."
"Are you saying it was Westen?" She spat the final word out.
"I don't know Sasha, how many trained snipers are out to get you at the moment?" He used his most patronising tone, his grin widening as she slammed the phone down.
Taking a look at the time, he ran his hands through his hair before getting to his feet. Limping over to the bathroom he planned on getting ready for the day. On his way across the room his eyes fell on the long canvas holdall that lay on the floor. He made a mental note to himself to hide the bag away before housekeeping came round.
Refreshed and feeling more awake after his shower. Larry went over to the line of built in wardrobes. He was still deciding on what to wear when his phone began rattling it's way across the bedside table again. Sitting down on the bed, he picked it up with a sigh. Expecting another hysterical call from Sasha, he was surprised to see the caller ID was blank.
"Larry, care to tell me what's going on?" Came the smooth tones of the man Michael Westen knew as Management.
"Robert, what can I do for you?" Larry knew why the old man was calling, the death of Stefan Perovic could put a crimp in his plans for world domination.
"I've had a rather uncomfortable phone call from General Perovic, his son has been assassinated in Miami. I wondered what you knew about it?" The friendly tone of the conversation didn't fool Larry for one minute.
Robert Devereaux had taught him to use that very same tone and he had passed on the knowledge to Michael. Smile, be pleasant right up to the moment you pull the trigger or push in the knife.
"Sasha called me a little while ago, I told her it was nothing to do with me." Larry replied.
"Did she believe you?"
"I redirected her attention." Larry admitted.
"So just as Michael thinks he is getting on top of things he is about to find himself under more pressure." The old man sounded pleased.
"I think Michael might be in need of a friend very soon." Larry confirmed.
"Can I trust you to get things done? I'm paying you a lot of money to make sure that this deal between the General and the Columbians to goes through."
"When have I ever let you down Robert?"
"This better not be the first time. I want results by next week." The line went dead.
Pursing his lips Larry ran the conversation through in his mind, the old man wasn't upset about Perovic juniors death. He was just concerned it would impact his own negotiations with the Russian.
He got to his feet going back to the wardrobe, time to get dressed and then after breakfast he would give Michael another call.
…...
"So you just went out to get medical supplies and breakfast this morning?" Fiona asked staring into the trunk of the charger.
Michael dropped the holdalls into the car and closed the lid. "No, I went back to the storage locker and picked up a few things I thought we might need."
She raised an eyebrow. "If I had suggested picking up sniper rifles, shotguns and enough C4 and detonator cord to blow up half of Miami..."
"Shhh." He placed a finger over her lips. "I thought you'd be happy with my plan to create a little mayhem."
"Mayhem?" One of her favourite words. She licked her lips, giving him a sultry look.
"Or havoc if you prefer." He replied, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Even a little chaos." He promised aiming for her lips now.
"Mmm, mayhem, havoc and chaos." Fiona placed her hands on his shoulders. "Very tempting." She firmly pushed him back. "But after we go to the warehouse and go see Sam."
Opening the passenger door of the charger she sat down, and then closed the door. Staring straight ahead she waited for him to get in the driver's side.