A/N: It seems that I was rather quick to think this tale had come to a close. What I thought was to be a simple epilogue turned into a few more chapters. Hope you'll bear with the story a bit longer! Thanks for reading!
Dancing With Skeletons
Fiche a Haon
Sam surveyed the damage. The estate looked like a war zone, harking back to days gone by. More bodies than was desirable, but some would survive if help arrived in time. He had done all that he could. He hoped it was enough so that Jesse could do his part. A last look at the carnage below before Sam eased himself from his perch making his way to the rental car. If his buddies made it out alive, they all needed a quick getaway. Sam intended to be ready.
He coasted toward the compound, lights off, placing himself in view of the grounds - and waited. Reaching into his shirt pocket, the former SEAL removed a stick of gum, always at the ready in case of situations like this. An old habit retained from his naval days to help calm the nerves. He removed the wrapper, held it aloft momentarily, and mumbled softly aloud, "Sometimes, this is better than beer!" He popped it into his mouth, a satisfied look on his face, and peered through the brightening darkness waiting for his friends to appear.
A loud explosion jarred him from his vigil. That was not one of the charges he set! He grabbed the binoculars to see if he could glean any insight into its cause. He mulled over the possibilities and took it to be an encouraging sign. "Where there's smoke, there's Fi!" was a line he had once used. And it had proven to be true in so many instances over the years! When things went "Boom", Fiona Glenanne's handiwork was often involved. "Come on, Tinkerbell, don't let me down." He kept his focus on the original makeshift doorway in the wall of the compound, willing his friends to appear, preferably before Miami police swarmed the area, that final explosion likely garnering their attention.
"Crap!" Sam watched as a car moved swiftly down the road, headed in the direction of the estate. It slowed as it approached, then parked at the gated entry. A lone figure emerged. He looked about before slipping through one of the holes in the perimeter wall but not before Sam had a good look at the interloper. His arrival, always unwanted these days, was at a most inauspicious time. Sam's concern increased but then a flash of movement caught his eye.
Four figures emerged through the opening, relief surging through Sam. He flashed his lights signalling them as to his location, then he started the car engine, racing to the rescue. The quartet piled in the car, a tight fit, and Sam sped away, ready to put some distance between themselves and this place. "About time! I almost needed another stick of gum!" Sam zoomed off, heading toward the Charger intending that no man, or car for that matter, be left behind.
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Dawn was just beginning to break as Evan sped along Miami's awakening streets. He was summoned to the estate, practically in the middle of the night. Jacky insisted that nothing was amiss but that his overbearing stepfather was causing havoc at the front gate. Carmelo required his assistance to remove the nuisance so he would not be able to foil the unfolding operation, guaranteeing everybody's impending payday.
Arriving at the estate, Evan immediately noticed that all was not well. His curiosity got the better of him as he pulled beside the gates and slipped in the compound through one of several holes in the perimeter wall. He was greeted with silence, several bodies strewn about the eerily deserted courtyard, devoid of any life. He walked further along the path picking up a weapon carelessly left on the ground, prepared to defend himself should the need arise. He erroneously assumed this was a drug war, the kingpin defending his turf and supply from an enterprising rival. If Carmelo was alive, he would be in the house. He could prove his loyalty by coming to his aid. And if he was dead, Evan was free and clear of the debt and could see what he could procure from the house to compensate him for his time and trouble. It seemed like another win-win situation.
He was nearly to the front door as sirens disturbed the silence of the moment, police descending upon the scene. There stood Evan, gun in hand, bodies about him in every direction, as uniformed officers surrounded him, barking out orders, drawing closer each second. Evan dropped the weapon immediately and fell to his knees, pleading for mercy. Time and circumstance had finally caught up with the man. The people of Miami would be free of Evan's exploits for a very long time!
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Sam barely stopped as they reached the Charger, Fiona and Michael exiting quickly. Sirens were heard behind them. Each car chose a different route headed back toward the rally point. Once again, there was silence in the Charger as both operatives needed time to process their near escape, how close they were to losing Charlie, how close they were to losing one another. The travellers in the other car were much more animated as Sam relayed his sighting of Evan, anticipating that he would not easily escape the attention of the forces that had now descended upon the estate. As usual, Evan had complicated matters and a plan was soon hatched to deal with this new situation.
"Man, those two are not gonna like this," Jesse groaned wanting this to be over but realising they were somewhat backed into a corner.
Sam laughed, "Not like it? They're gonna hate it!" Charlie poked his head from the back seat not wanting to miss any part of the conversation. "Either of you have a better idea?" Both shook their head. "Then, we roll the dice." A moment of silence followed before he spoke again, "Look on the bright side. Fi's unarmed. Think we used up all the C-4 and the clips." Sam had a point and both men were encouraged until he added, "She weighs what, about 100 pounds. It's not like she can really hurt us."
"Did you hit your head back there?" Jesse's fears were not so easily allayed. "Sam, this is Fiona we're talkin' about. Have you forgotten some of the crazy ass stuff she's done? That we have done with her?" Sam had no time to reply as they had arrived at their destination. Michael and Fiona were leaning against the Charger, arms crossed, expressions grim.
All three remained stationary not wanting to leave the relative safety of the vehicle. "Oh boy, she doesn't look like she's in much of a forgiving mood." Sam was instantly reminded of several occasions that he had seen Fi in a similar mood, the results rarely favourable to those that had offended her.
"You think, Captain Obvious." This is the point Jesse had been trying to make on the journey. "Charlie, go make nice with your momma." Jesse flashed a bright smile as he encouraged the youngster to make the first move. "We'll be right behind you."
Charlie shook his head, incredulous how these two men could face a drug lord's army with little more than a hope and a prayer but his Ma gave them pause, his Ma filled them with concern for their safety. "Fine. She'll eat my head off, she will." Realising that delaying the inevitable, he opened the door slowly as prepared to meet the wrath of the woman he called "Ma".
When he appeared, Fiona's expression dramatically changed. A wave of relief washed over her as she moved toward the young man. His pace quickened, the mood now welcoming, an embrace completing the reunion. Michael followed, standing on the fringe, and waited until Fi had her fill of the boy before joining. Sam and Jesse exited the car watching as the family became whole again.
Finally, she broke her embrace, holding Charlie at arm's length as she inspected the youngster. "Are ya' hurt?" She asked, concern written all over her face.
"Naw. I'm grand." His smile bright initially darkened as he noticed the small cut on her face.
Fiona noticed his gaze. "It's just a scratch. Not to worry." She could see that he truly was fine. The petite woman gazed lovingly into the eyes of the young man before her, then reared back delivering a blow upside the head. "Aren't you the bold one, Charlie Westen?" Charlie was taken aback. Neither of his parents had even struck him. This was unexpected, unknown territory. "What the hell were you thinking? Miami? After all that we've told you! Have you not been listening all these years? I don't care if you're a man fully grown, I will sort you out, I will..."
Charlie was speechless, not knowing how to start, where to start, and he looked toward Michael hoping for his support. Surely he would understand the wanderlust of youth but Michael's eyes bore into his very soul as he, too, awaited an explanation.
He opened his mouth to speak but before the words could leave his lips, Fiona, never known for her patience, turned her attention to his 'enablers'. "And you two!" She stormed over to where Sam and Jesse stood. Both men braced themselves for a physical onslaught. "He's just eighteen. Not surprising that he's an eejit. What's your excuse?" Both men winced at the verbal slap, unable to defend their actions. "Were the phones not working when he showed up on your doorstep?" Fiona continued her rant, angry words spilling forth as all four men stood silent around her, their eyes downcast, waiting until her tirade ceased. All had learned over the years that it was best to let her finish releasing her anger before interrupting. Then, after several minutes there was silence. She stood glaring at the trio of conspirators, arms crossed, awaiting a response.
Michael saw that the penitents were unsure whether or not to actually speak so he approached Fiona. "Are you finished?" His question was answered with a slight nod of her head, her eyes no less defiant. The former spy had some queries of his own. "Charlie, why don't you tell us exactly what's going on? And how Sam got you out of there." Ever the operatives, Team Westen traditionally debriefed after an operation gaining a full understanding of what went well and what didn't. Michael saw the necessity of continuing that pattern.
His friends looked at each other, Sam finally speaking, "I didn't get him outta there, Mike." Michael and Fiona's faces showed confusion at his statement. "Charlie got himself outta there." Both turned their attention to their son who returned their gaze with a smile and a wave. "Look, this is a story best told over a cold one." Sam moved toward the cooler. Opening it, he pulled out several bottles. "Hey! We've still got beer and snacks. Who wants one?"
All eyes turned toward Fiona awaiting her reaction. She sauntered over to Sam, throwing death glances at the trio, grabbed a beer, and sat down ready to listen. The mood softened as the men joined her, beers in hand. Michael sat by her side. She leaned in close, whispering in his ear, "I don't suppose you have a weapon. You know, just in case I want to shoot someone."
His brow furrowed as it often did when she made some surprising suggestion, unsure how to react, and more unsure if she was serious. "Fresh out."
"Ah, just as well." She flashed him a sly smile and then they clinked their beer bottles, took a large gulp, and focused on Charlie, Sam, and Jesse. They were ready to listen to the tale of Charlie Westen and company.
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It took some time for the whole story to be told, Charlie explaining his actions, his need for understanding, for closure; Sam and Jesse chimed in with their observations, delving into how the operation was originally planned, and how it ultimately unfolded. Charlie shook his head as he neared the end. "I thought I was ready. Knew what to expect from all that you've told me. Sometimes I was and sometimes I made a bollocks of it. It's so bloody hard to keep your focus all the time, remember everything all at once, never let your guard down." He looked imploring at his family. "How did you do it all those years? And how are you all still alive?"
"I ask myself that all the time." Michael's smile was genuine.
"I thought it was eating all that yogurt, man." Jesse tried to lighten the mood.
Michael nodded before continuing. "Other than yogurt, we've all had training - a lot more than you. But basically, it's what we do, who we are. I can't give you an answer other than that." Charlie looked about the circle, agreement on the faces around him. The quintet sat in silence as they reflected on this point and how it led to this moment, a moment that was both somber and precious, a parting soon imminent. Michael cleared his throat, as he stood upright. "Fi." He spoke softly; his intent clear, it was time to leave.
Sam rose, "Yeah, about that. We have a slight problem." Michael looked puzzled so Sam continued. "As we were gettin' the hell outta Dodge, Evan showed up." The former burned spy wiped his hand over his face upon hearing that revelation. "From the sound of those sirens behind us, police musta nabbed him. He's in custody, Mike. Likely spilling his guts. Cops will be at the hotel in a few hours asking all kinds of questions. His story falls flat without a kidnap victim. I need 'Charles O'Donovan', friend of a buddy I met overseas, in Miami." Sam stopped allowing Michael time to process this new information.
"How long do you need?" Michael saw the logic to Sam's reasoning.
"Two, three days tops, Mike." Jesse jumped in to lend support.
Fiona jumped in, "You're not serious?" Her question directed toward the men. Their expressions gave her the answer. "And what are we supposed to do, Sam, while you make this play?"
"Well, you could go home." Sam's suggestion fell flat, anger re-emergence in Fiona's eyes. "Or, you could hole up in Hialeah. Pay cash keep your head down for a few days."
"I am not one of your damn clients!" Fiona blurted out.
"Funny. I heard that one before." Sam chuckled.
Fiona turned to Michael for support but saw only tactic agreement. "It's not ideal but we'd be together. And I promise it will not be one of those 'wasted' hotel rooms." Michael grabbed her hands, their eyes meeting, their thoughts joining. "Deal?" She nodded slightly, a small smile as she pondered the possibilities. Michael took this for affirmation of his proposal.
"Looks like we'll stick around, Sam." Michael had a stipulation to add, "But Charlie doesn't leave the hotel." He looked toward the youngster letting everyone know this was non-negotiable.
Jesse responded first, "You got it, Mike."
Fiona was not completely satisfied, "And exactly how are you going to sell this, Sam?"
"Don't you worry that head of yours, sister. I gotta plan. It's a cake walk!" Sam beamed as another idea came to him. It looked as if Team Westen's time in Miami was not quite over.