Out of the ashes:
Chapter twenty one
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Spending a few hours poolside in a fancy Miami hotel, for most people would be considered a relaxing way to while away an afternoon. For Larry it was an ideal way to work out who was in Robert Devereux's surveillance team. It took time, but eventually he had picked out three likely targets.
A middle aged woman whose suite was three doors down from his own. An even older man, who had come up to the reception desk as he had booked in, asking to change some Euros into Dollars. The last one was younger, fitter who spent most of her time swimming up and down the pool. Only to rest close to where he sat, whenever he had a phone call. These three were most likely part of the team sent to watch him.
Satisfied that for now he had learnt enough, Larry got up and made his way back to his suite. As he walked through the hotel, he used the large ceiling to floor windows to watch the reflection of the middle aged woman following him.
Back in his room, Larry began to prepare for the next stage. Covering the dining table with a thick cotton sheet, he collected his sniper rifle from the wardrobe. Almost with a reverence Larry placed the weapon on the table and began to dismantle it for cleaning. He handled the rifle carefully and with total concentration. Each piece was inspected, cleaned and then put aside for reassembly.
Just as he was putting the rifle back into it's case, Larry heard his cell phone signal an incoming text. With the weapon safely stored away ready for the next day, he opened the message.
I have him.
Larry looked at the the three little words displayed on the cell phone's screen, a cruel smile slowly curving his lips. The kid probably thought all his problems were coming to an end.
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"Son of a bitch!" Fiona hissed furiously, her car door jerked open and a hand gripped her arm.
As she was dragged out of the vehicle, she threw a punch that caught her attacker on the nose. Giving him no time to recover she followed up immediately with a kick to his shin, before moving in closer to thrust her knee up in to his groin. He fell to the ground groaning in agony, while she ripped the automatic machine pistol from his other hand. The toe of her boot crashing in to his jaw finishing him off. She spun round ready to take on the rest of the men.
"Surrender. NOW!" The man giving the orders stood over Sam's body.
Fiona froze in place looking down at her friend laying curled up, holding his ribs as he coughed uncontrollably, a trickle of blood running down from his forehead. The light of battle died in her eyes, she was surrounded by armed men. Sam was on the ground, and Michael unaware of what was happening had already been pushed into a waiting car. Glaring defiantly at the man who had spoken, Fiona allowed the gun to fall on to the ground, before slowly raising her hands above her head.
She was thrown roughly against the hood of the car and held in place by a strong hand gripping the back of her neck. She could do nothing but watch, as Sam was hauled up on to his feet and joined her against the car while handcuffs were fastened around their wrists.
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When he had been forced into the SUV Michael had expected to find himself facing General Perovic, or Management. Instead a man he hadn't seen in over six years stared back at him.
"You!" Michael exclaimed, staring in amazement at Donald Raines his old CIA handler.
"We have things to talk about." Raines spoke calmly, as if it had only been a few days since they had last seen each other.
Michael opened his mouth to speak, but paused as a wave of dizziness hit him. "What?" he slurred before falling back on the seat.
"Something to make the journey a bit more comfortable for us all." Raines smiled, and tapped his driver on the shoulder. "The office." He ordered.
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Michael woke up, slumped forward in a chair his head resting on top of his arms which were folded on top of a large metal table. His old friends raging headache and mind numbing fatigue were back in full force. Probably made worse by whatever Raines had injected into his neck. Groaning he sat upright stretching his body, fingertips searching his neck for a slight raised area where a needle would have gone in to his skin.
Feeling a little bit more awake, Michael took in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see, no windows, no clock and apart from the table, and the chair he sat on there was no furniture either. Hearing the click of a lock he watched the door open and a man enter carrying two brown folders.
Michael gazed impassively at the newcomer, studying his appearance and drawing his own conclusions. This man was a field agent, Michael was sure of it. He looked like a regular guy with brown hair, blue eyes and a friendly expression. A closer look and you noticed the eyes were sharp, and under the expensive suit he had the muscular frame necessary to survive life as a covert operative.
"My name is Max." The stranger introduced himself dropping the folders down on the table between them. "I'm here to brief you on the assignment."
Michael offered up a smile of his own, full of charm except if you looked into his eyes which were icy cold. "I never agreed to any assignment. So before we start, I'd like to know where my friends are and that they're safe."
"They're both being well looked after." Max informed him. "However, Mr Axe does seem to have a problem with the FBI which we are trying to rectify, and Ms Glenanne has issues with her immigration status. Both tricky situations."
"Ok. You have my attention." Michael knew a threat when he heard one however pleasantly it was worded.
"This is our target." Max placed a photo on the table. Michael stared at it, his hand going across the table to pick it up.
"You're going after Management?" Michael asked.
"We know him as Robert Devereux ex CIA, retired in nineteen eighty five and disappeared shortly afterwards."
"Can I be in on the interrogation. I need to know..." Michael was bolt upright he was desperate for answers.
Max shook his head. "As soon as he is in custody he'll be airlifted out to Guantanamo." He opened the top page of the second folder. Michael saw it was full of photos of himself with Larry at the Epic hotel. "We know Devereux wants a meeting with you. All you have to do is go to that meeting and we'll take it from there."
"That's all?" Michael replied.
"Ideally we want you to meet Devereux somewhere private, but if that isn't possible you'll have to put a tracker on him so we can pick him up later. From what Raines says it shouldn't be hard for a man of your skills." Max smirked.
"You have a high estimation of my abilities." Michael replied dryly.
Max slapped him on the back. "Oh I've read all the files on you, Michael Westen the super spy." He laughed as he dropped Michael's cell phone onto the table. "You want to give your old partner Larry Sizemore a call now and set up the meeting?"
With a sigh, Michael picked up his phone and dialled the number. He didn't have long to wait.
"Hey kid I've been expecting your call." Larry sounded especially happy.
"The feds Larry, really?" Michael snarled, ignoring the look Max sent him.
"Oh he asked for it Michael. The old drunk shouldn't rattle the tiger's cage if he doesn't want to get bit." Larry brushed the accusation aside.
Michael took a deep breath. "I've thought about what you said. I'm ready to make a deal."
"Ok kid I'll make a call." Larry offered. "You'll hear back soon."
"Satisfied." Michael asked, as Max held out his hand for a return of the phone.
"Delighted. Let's go get you something for that headache you're trying to hide."
Michael wasn't that surprised to find the CIA doctor had a copy of his medical records including those from the VA hospital he attended under a false name. While he submitted to a medical exam, and dutifully took the handful of pills the doctor gave him. Max was called away.
When he came back Max looked at the doctor. "He fit to go?"
With a nod from the doctor, Michael followed Max outside.
"We have a little side mission. To check out an airstrip over in the national park." Max informed him as they walked along.
"Oh, and you'll need this." He added, handing Michael a Sig Sauer handgun, after checking the gun was loaded Michael slipped it into the waistband of his pants.
Glancing at his watch, Michael asked. "Have we got time for this? I could get a call at any time to.."
"We make time." Max cut him off, then grinned. "You remember how these things go don't you?"
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Lying in wet grass keeping an eye out for spiders, snakes and alligators was not high on the list of things Michael enjoyed doing as a spy. They had been there for an hour watching what should be an abandoned airstrip, being cleared and prepared for use.
"Can we go now?" Michael asked after Max had taken photographs of all the work taking place.
"Stop being a girl Michael. Before we go I'd like to know what's in those boxes they've just moved outside the hangar."
With a snort of disgust Michael snatched the camera and got to his feet. "What are you doing?" Max asked.
"Getting a look in those boxes so we can get going." Michael grumbled.
Max watched Michael disappear from sight, then reappear just long enough to climb over a chain link fence and disappear back into the undergrowth on the other side.
"Crazy. They warned me he was crazy." Max shook his head as he watched Michael peeking inside the boxes. Five minutes later he was back, breathing a little bit heavier, with a rip in his shirt sleeve.
"They have a couple of RPGs, and the grenades to go with them. The writing on the boxes is in Russian. Is this General Perovic's way into Miami?" He handed Max the camera.
"It might be, chatter amongst the Russian gangs say the big bad boss is due into tomorrow." Max told him. "Let's get back to the office. You're beginning to look like you need your beauty sleep."
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The package is ready for collection tomorrow.
With the message sent, Larry decided to go out for a walk. He went down in the elevator and passed a young man leaning idly against the wall outside the hotel. Crossing over the street he noticed that the young man followed on one side of the street while the elderly man he had picked out at the pool strolled along behind him. He ambled along enjoying the night air, until he reached a dark narrow alleyway between two closed stores.
The older man stopped at the entrance, and cautiously peered long the path unable to see his quarry amongst the dumpsters and piled up rubbish. Hesitating for a moment he waited for the younger man to catch up.
The two men moved along opposite walls, knowing it was a likely a trap. The younger man died as Larry silently appeared behind him, slitting his throat from ear to ear. Before the older man had time to bring his gun up Larry had altered his hold on the knife and sent it flying from his hand. The knife ended up buried hilt deep in the man's chest.
With both bodies now in one of the dumpsters and hidden by bags of rubbish. Larry moved on, he had a meeting to get to.
Reaching a dark run down bar far from the tourist places on the strip, Larry took a table at the back and waited. He didn't have to wait long before he was joined by Raines.
"Why the meeting?" Larry asked angrily.
"I wanted to be sure you're going to keep up your end of the bargain. I've known you forty years Larry, and I know not to trust you." Raines replied nervously.
"It's easy Raines, I don't want the power I want the contacts. I want to know that there is always going to be somebody I can rely on to get me out of any little difficulty I find myself in. Lend me money or a place to stay. And once you hand me my own copy of that NOC list I'll have what I want, and you can play your little power games."
"And Westen?"
"The kid needs sometime to get back into the game. He's gone soft, I'll be coming back for him once you've toughened him up a bit."
Raines nodded and Larry got to his feet. "This is the last time you call me out to babysit you. I'll be in touch tomorrow." He lent over the table locking eyes with his partner. "Do not let me down." Then he was gone.
Raines shut his eyes. God he had forgotten how scary Larry was face to face.
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"Sorry, I know it's not much, but it should only be for one night." Max showed Michael into a small windowless room that had been made up with a folding cot in one corner.
"I've slept on worse." Michael commented. It wasn't particularly late but he was worn out, running his hands through his hair he sat down on the cot and slipped his shoes off before collapsing down. He fell asleep almost immediately his eyes shut, bone weary from the days activities.
"Boy! Boy! Get out here now." Michael's body twitched, his legs kicking out as his fathers voice invaded his dream. "Useless, dumbass kid. How many times have I told you, you're nothing but a loser. Only thing you're good for is taking a damn beating. Don't you ever learn? What did I do to end up with piece of scum like you?" Michael started to mumble in his sleep, Frank Westen had begun to invade his dreams on a regular basis. Playing on his doubts and fears.
"Time to stop taking the beatings kid, it's time you started dishing them out. You've got it in you, I've seen it, you're good at it too. The best I've ever seen." Larry's smarmy voice took over silencing Frank's taunts. Michael spent a restless night tossing and turning, several times crying out in his sleep, denying his likeness to either of his demons.
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Stealing a master key card on his way back from his evening stroll, Larry made his way towards the suite three doors further along the corridor to his own. The surveillance team would start to worry when their team mates didn't turn up and he couldn't have that.
Letting himself into the suite he came across the younger woman from the swimming pool combing her hair in a mirror. She died without uttering a word, a knife in her throat. Lowering her body quietly to the floor, Larry continued further into the suite. The middle aged woman was reaching for a gun when she died with a bullet to the brain from a silenced handgun.
The woman's body fell forward to the floor with a thud. "Caroline?" A man stepped into the room from the balcony, a gun in his hand, before he could get off a shot Larry had shot him twice in the chest.
Staring at all the death and destruction, Larry couldn't help but grin. 'Gosh I'm getting better with age. Three down, not one got off a shot. That's five in one night. Geez the old man must be filling his ranks with amatuers.'
Humming a little tune he dumped the bodies in the bath tub, and then searched the room. Taking the phones, weapons and anything that might hold information. He was going to be gone by the morning, the bodies shouldn't be found until the cleaning staff went in. By then he would be in another hotel under a different name.
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Michael walked into the kitchen, his clothes dirty and rumpled from crawling around outside an airstrip and being slept in. His hair hung stuck up at odd angles testifying to his bad nights sleep.
"You look terrible." Max commented. Studying his new partner's haggard features. "I could hear you yelling down the corridor."
"Sorry." Michael mumbled searching for any yoghurt in the fridge, before sitting down at the breakfast table. When he sat down he stared with distaste at the little cup of pills Max placed in front of him.
"Doctors orders Michael." Max commented, keeping an eye on his charge to make sure he took the medication.
Just after they had finished breakfast he got the phone call. The raspy cold voice was direct. "Cape Florida lighthouse in an hour."
Michael studied the map Max laid out on the table. "Well you wanted an open space. But I can't see how you're going to get in close enough to take him down. He'll have armed bodyguards with him, so I can't grab him on my own."
"It's ok you plant the tracker, and we'll follow him when he leaves." Max answered.
Michael drove out to the Cape Florida lighthouse on Biscayne Bay alone, arriving at the right spot he got out of his car and waited. The sound of a helicopter coming in made him look up shielding his eyes with one hand. He watched as it circled the area several times before finally coming into land.
Walking forward with his hands held well clear of his body Michael waited for the rotor blades to stop turning. Two heavily armed men jumped out and after they searched him they took up defensive positions. Management sat inside the helicopter, dark glasses hiding his eyes the same cold humourless expression on his face.
"Michael? So you've come to your senses?" He smirked.
"I've not been given much choice." Michael replied bitterly, staying outside the helicopter.
"No you've not, have you son." He chuckled it was an unpleasant sound.
The two guards toppled to the ground, moments before the sound of the shots reached them. Michael reacted ducking down as another shot hit the side of the helicopter. A fourth shot hit Management, his white shirt turning red in an instant, his body slumped forward. The pilot started up the engine as Michael threw himself clear. The helicopter rose up and Management's body fell lifelessly to the ground.
"What the hell!" Michael had dropped to his knees hoping the old man wasn't dead. He had questions that only he could answer.
He looked up to see Max and Raines were coming towards him, getting to his feet he moved to meet them.
"It wasn't my doing Michael calm down." Raines told him putting his hands out.
Michael wasn't listening they had used him to set Management up. How could he have not have seen it, nobody wanted Devereux alive. Lashing out he caught the older man in the stomach with a tightly curled fist, doubling him over. Michael continued the attack bringing his elbow up to smash it into Raine's back, but he was thwarted by Max.
Catching hold of Michael's arm Max stepped behind him, and twisted the arm up his back. "An order came from higher up the food chain. Devereux was not to be taken alive." Raines spluttered trying to regain his composure.
"Take him over to his girlfriend's." Raines ordered. "Report tomorrow, ten a.m for a debrief."
"What about Perovic? He's coming in today!" Michael dug his heels in, ignoring the pain being inflicted on his arm.
"Perovic isn't your problem. Go home Michael." Raines ordered.