Chapter 6
"Hey, on the way back into town can we stop and get a bite? I'm hungry," Sam said.
"You almost got killed back there and you're worried about food?" Fiona shook her head. "I can't believe you sometimes!"
"A man's gotta eat, sister," Sam retorted. "Now that the adrenaline's worn off and I'm out of danger... I think," he paused and glanced at Russ before continuing. "All that scuffling worked up an appetite." He pulled out his phone. "That reminds me, I better call Elsa. We had a dinner date."
"Don't tell her anything," Russ admonished him with a tone that had Sam again wondering what this guy was about. He was pretty sure that Russ wasn't exactly who said he was, a businessman with a security firm. Companies like that were a dime a dozen in Miami, so why would a business based in Orlando cause him to come to Miami? Things were not adding up.
"Hey, I know better than that," Sam assured him. A smile lit up his face when Elsa picked up the phone. "Hi, baby, it's me, Sammy."
"Sam, where have you been? Are you on a job again?"
"Oh, you know me, honey, always into something." His smile widened. "Listen, I won't be home for dinner, and I know we had plans, but I'm sorry I can't make it."
She let out a resigned breath on the other end. "I suppose we have plenty of evenings together, so I shouldn't complain. I just don't want you to get into something so big that you take off and I never see you again. Can you promise me that won't happen?"
"You know I can't, but I can promise you that I try to avoid it." He hated these conversations. He knew how she felt about his activities, but yet she always supported him whether it was from a moral or financial standpoint. Some day, he would repay her for her patience.
"I know. Be careful, okay? Some guy was hanging around the hotel lobby today and I had to get my security on him. He wasn't an agent."
Looking concerned, Sam asked, "How could you tell?"
"He wasn't as polished as the agents who monitored me while you were gone. This guy was uncomfortable in his clothes, like he wasn't used to being dressed up in a suit. And he was just too... squirrelly, for lack of a better word." She paused. "I can't put my finger on it, Sam. I just knew when I saw him twice, once in the morning and when I left the restaurant after lunch. That's when I had security check him out."
"What did they find?"
"He took off like a rabbit and he must have had backup waiting, because they lost him. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"No, it's okay," he assured her. "If you see him again tomorrow, you call me right away, you got it?"
"So you're not coming home?" She sounded so disappointed, it almost broke Sam's heart.
"I hope to. I just don't know where this investigation is going. I have a new lead," he said as his eyes slid toward Russ again. "Don't worry, baby. I'm with Fi, I'll be fine."
Elsa laughed. "You're in good hands, then. I'll see you whenever you get home. Love you, Sammy."
"Love you too, baby. 'Night." He closed the connection. "So, where are we going?"
"Somewhere with a lot of privacy," Russ replied. "There's an office downtown, I can get something brought in, and we'll talk about this in a secure room."
That really didn't sound good. Sam fell silent, now and then exchanging worried glances with Fiona. She was uncharacteristically quiet the entire way, listening to Russ and driving to the location. They both knew the office building. It was where the CIA offices were kept. So Russ was one of them, a Fed. It was almost anti-climactic. Sam was expecting him to be some supreme bad guy or something, kidnapping him and Fi for his own dastardly gain. Instead, he was just another guy like Michael Westen doing... what? That remained to be seen.
Russ settled them into a small conference room decorated with warm tones and paintings of landscapes that picked up the colors in the furniture. Three couches formed a u-shape with a round coffee table in the center. The couches were soft, covered in a rusty red fabric, and the cushions nestled around the squatters. Sam tossed an earth tone throw pillow to the end of the couch and settled into the soft cushions. Fiona sat to his left on a more narrow couch.
Russ came into the room and approached a cabinet and opened the doors. He asked, "Anybody want a drink? We've got anything from water to beer. Sam, I can make a mojito for you if you like."
"You know a lot about me," Sam said. "I suppose you read my Agency file."
"Yeah, I did." Russ grinned, the gesture warm and not at all spy-like. "And yours, Fiona. I have to say, talking with Michael didn't hurt. He added the human element to my background on you two."
"So you are an agent with the CIA," Fiona said.
"Yes, I am." Russ set down a mojito on the coffee table in front of Sam and a bloody Mary in front of Fiona. He really did know them, which put Sam and Fiona on guard. Russ sat down in the couch across from Sam's with a beer. "My real name is Russell Belliveau. I'm an agent with the CIA, and until recently was assigned to the San Francisco office. After you were all recovered by the Agency and Michael went back in, he talked about having some chip with a lot of data he collected on enemies of the state."
"This chip that is hidden in the Charger somewhere," Sam said and took a sip of his drink. "Hey, not bad."
"I worked as a bartender for a few months at a strip club in Miami awhile back. It's classified."
Fiona and Sam nodded in understanding. Fiona spoke. "So Michael had this data. Why didn't he just share it with the Agency right away?"
Russ shrugged. "I suppose he was hoping to use it as some kind of leverage. Once the higher ups learned bits and pieces of what he had, they were willing to cut him another deal. Retrieve the list, give it to the Agency, and he could get some serious time shaved off his obligations to the CIA." Russ paused and met Fiona's eyes. "He could come home to you a lot sooner."
She gaped at the revelation and her heart skipped a beat. Michael was trying to get out like he promised, to be with her.
"He knows how you feel, Fiona, what you think. But it's not true. If it had been up to Michael, he wouldn't have gone back to spying. But he did it for you, to buy your freedom. To buy Sam's freedom, and Jesse's and Madeline's. You don't have a clue as to how deep you were in trouble. All of you could have gone away to prison for a very long time. Some of you for life." He glanced at Sam as if to emphasize his point.
Fiona sat frozen in place. She knew this was what Michael tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. After time faded the pain a little, she began to understand the gravity of their situation. Michael did what he had to do to save them, and she was ungrateful and practically spat in his face. It was a good thing her friends still stood by her. As for Michael...
She lowered her gaze to her hands clasped in a nervous bundle on her knees. "Does Michael... does he..."
"He still loves you, Fiona," Russ answered with a tender smile. "Since he got back in, he and I have been working together and he talked about you a lot when we had moments where nothing was going on and we were supposed to get to know each other." He swallowed and continued. "I think his desire to get back home outweighed any tactical advantage he had with that list, and that's why he gave it up just before they sent him off on a mission that I helped prepare him for."
"They're not tossing him into a suicide mission, are they," Sam asked, his voice gruff with emotion.
"No. He should be checking in later to let me know his progress. He was going after one of the people on that list. It was a coincidence, really. Between that and his need to get out, everything just came together in a perfect collision, I guess."
Someone knocked on the closed door, and Russ got up to answer it. "Your order, Sir."
"Thanks, Jenny." He took a bag from her. "You can go home now. We'll be done in a little while."
"Alright, Mr. Belliveau. Have a good night."
"You too, Jenn." Russ closed the door and set the bag on the center of the table. "I took the liberty of ordering from Carlito's. Hope you don't mind."
"I didn't know they delivered," Sam said as he leaned forward and pulled out a container. He opened it and knew it was Fiona's. "Here, this is yours, I think. The tuna with that crap, whatever it is."
An amused smirk on her face, Fiona took the container and grabbed a set of plastic utensils. "Thank you, Sam. And thank you, Russ, for thinking of us."
"You're welcome." He grabbed his meal and the three talked while they ate. "So, anyway, this whole business with the Charger was an effort to throw off some people who are interested in getting a hold of this list and selling it off to the highest bidder. We don't know who these people are, and it's my job to find them."
"So, you were playing some kind of shell game with them with the Chargers, huh?" Sam said and bit into his Cuban sandwich and washed it down with a sip of his drink.
"In a sense. The plan was to get them running around looking for the right one, and the activity would be picked up by the authorities. As risky as it was for you to get into that trunk, Sam, that move made my job easier." Russ shook his head. "Now we have Johnson and his men, and if they know what's good for them, they'll cough up who their boss is. We didn't have that chance before."
Sam nodded. "Glad I could help. So where is the chip, really?"
Russ replied with a smile, "It's in Orlando, in Michael's Charger."
"What? You've got his car," Fiona asked.
"You had it all along?" Sam stared at him.
"Yeah. About a month ago, Michael gave up the location of the list, and the Deputy Director assigned me to pick up the car and take it somewhere safe while we set up an elaborate game to flush out the people who were trying to get it." Russ paused to take a bite and wash it down with his beer.
"Can you tell us where it is," Sam asked.
"Sorry, no." Russ shook his head. "Although, I may have you two come with me in a couple of days and get it. We want to apprehend the boss first, if we can, and make sure that no one is still after the list."
"Makes sense." Sam nodded and glanced at Fiona.
"I think we should go tomorrow and let them come at us. We'll be ready," she said with a sly smile.
Russ studied her and a slow grin crossed his face as he laughed. "You're even gutsier than I imagined. No wonder Michael loves you." He shook his head. "I couldn't picture him with a woman who was any less than who he is. He warned me that you might want to jump in feet first, and I doubted that, but well, here you are proving me wrong. I like you, Fi. Mind if I call you that?"
"Not at all, if I can call you Russ," Fiona replied, smiling. "We should come up with a plan before we do this. If we just drive up to Orlando, pick up the Charger, and come back, we could easily be ambushed on the freeway."
"Right, so we have to map out some side routes just in case," Sam said. "What kind of backup can your people provide?" Before Russ could reply, he turned to Fiona. "We should probably get Jesse involved. You know he'd be disappointed if we had a big operation going and he wasn't asked to join the dance."
"Uh, woah there, Sammy," Russ said, getting the couple's attention, with Sam raising an eyebrow at him. "This is my operation. I'll come up with a strategy and you guys are along to help. We don't need to be getting Jesse into this, or Michael's mom. You've got the Agency on your side, not working against you. Remember that."
"You'll have to pardon me," Sam said and took a long sip of his drink. "There was a time when we didn't know who we could trust outside of our little circle."
"Understandable." Russ locked eyes with Sam. "I swear to you, I'm not your enemy. I'm a friend who wants to help you, and Michael, and I want to nail these people. But we have to think this out and do it right." He settled back into the couch and drained his beer. "In the morning we'll discuss this."
"How about we all meet at the hotel for breakfast," Sam suggested.
"Sure. But why," Russ asked, leaning forward, his elbows planted on his knees.
"When I talked to Elsa, she told me that some guy was hanging around the hotel lobby yesterday. Her security tried to grab him but he took off." Sam reported everything Elsa told him. "I'm hoping that we can nab him before we go on this trip. Who knows, he might be able to give us some intel."
Russ's head bobbed. "I like that plan. Alright, we'll meet at nine, at the hotel."
Sam and Fiona were finished with their meals, so the two left the CIA offices. A security guard escorted them to the lobby, and then they were alone.
"I'll give you a ride back to the hotel," Fiona said.
"Thanks, Fi." Sam kept an eye all around them and didn't stop until he was back at the hotel. Even as he crossed the lobby to the elevators, he watched the patrons, searching for someone suspicious. There was no one. With a sigh of relief, he got into the elevator, swiped his keycard over the pad, and the elevator rose to the penthouse. It was a new security feature that Sam had instituted after he returned from running with Mike and his friends. It was at great expense, but now he was glad he convinced Elsa that it was necessary. He didn't like that people from the wrong side were on his turf.
"You're home," Elsa said with surprise and a smile as he entered the penthouse suite. She got up from where she sat on the couch reading and met him in the middle of the room with arms wide open and her lips planting a kiss on his cheek.
He kissed her lips before replying. "My meeting was just that, a meeting with dinner. Nothing special. But tomorrow Fi and I have something going on with the CIA. All I can tell you is that we're going out of town and should be back by evening if everything goes according to plan."
"If everything goes according to plan?" Elsa looked up at him and asked, "When is this going to end? I hate all this uncertainty and secrecy."
"When Mike comes home, baby. Until then, don't worry about it." He held her tight and kissed Elsa until all her worries faded into the background, and he led her to the bedroom. "It's been a long day. I'm ready for bed."
"What happened to your shirt," she asked, seeing the rend in his sleeve. Then she gasped. "Sammy, did you get shot?"
"It's nothing, punkin. It just missed me." He turned her out of his arms and prodded her into the bedroom. "Don't worry about it."
"You should put something on that or it'll get infected," she advised with worry creasing her brow.
An impish smile crossed his face. "You can play nurse if you like. I'll let ya."
She laughed and caressed his face. "I'll take good care of you, sweetheart. You just get undressed and I'll be right there."
Elsa hurried into the bathroom and rooted around in the medicine cabinet for the things she needed to take care of the wound on Sam's arm. After all this time she knew which ones were serious and which injuries required just a little bit of attention. This was more on the end of low maintenance, but she would milk it for all it was worth if only to give him a little tenderness. When he walked in the door he looked exhausted, and she couldn't imagine what he'd been through. Didn't want to, really. Maybe some day he would tell her everything when she could understand why he did this to himself.
Elsa entered the bedroom and in the lamp light she studied her man. He lay on his back on his side of the bed, one arm flung over his head, the other crossing his stomach, and his legs spread shoulder width apart. His bare chest rose and fell with soft even breaths, a sure sign that he was already asleep. She brought his arm down to care for his wound and he stirred but didn't awaken. After she applied an adhesive bandage, she combed his hair back with her hand and gave his forehead a kiss before turning off the light and getting into bed. When she snuggled up against him he moved his arm and put it around her, but then he went back to sleep. Sometimes he had nightmares of things that happened in the past, but that night he slept like the dead.