Chapter 9
Sam and Fiona arrived long after office hours, so a man in a dark suit waited for them at the entrance. Sam recognized him as one of the agents who escorted their team to meet Michael after he rejoined the Agency and they were released. Nodding at the two visitors, the man said, "Welcome. Follow me, please."
"We've been doing a lot of following lately," Fiona muttered as she walked beside Sam through the empty lobby. "Just once I'd like to lead."
"Be careful what you wish for. You might get it," Sam teased.
The three entered an elevator and the agent pressed the third floor button. The car moved and soon dropped them off on another seemingly deserted floor. The agent turned left, passing several doors before stopping at a small office near the end of the hall. He turned and took up a guarding stance. "In here, please." He inclined his head toward the open door.
"Thanks." Sam placed his hand on Fiona's back and guided her to enter the office. He followed and looked around.
The room was empty, but the computer on the desk was active and locked. The surface held stacks of folders and loose papers, which was a sure sign that someone was there. Sam knew the Agency kept a clean desk policy when offices were unoccupied. Other than a few generic landscapes on the walls, nothing indicated the personality of the owner of the office. Sam suspected that the agent was new to the area, which wasn't surprising. The CIA presence in Miami seemed to have a lot of turnover.
"We might as well sit," he said and took a chair near the desk. Fiona sat beside him in the other chair.
They didn't have to wait long before footsteps approached the office. The agent whispered something to the newcomer in the hall, and Sam turned to see who it was, but the hallway wasn't very well lit and the figure stood half in shadow. Whoever he was, he was well dressed in a gray Armani suit. The man shifted, turned, and stepped into the room.
"Michael," Fiona breathed.
"Fi," he replied and held out his arms, his eyes tearing at the sight of her.
Fiona was too dumbstruck to move. Sam poked her arm. "Fi," he whispered. Turning a grin on Michael, he said aloud, "Hey Mikey, it's good to see you again." He had no qualms about rising and giving his friend a brotherly hug that Michael returned with equal enthusiasm. "It's really great to see you safe and in one piece, Brother."
"Thanks, Sam. You too." Michael pulled back and studied him. "I wish I could tell you how much I've missed you all." He approached Fiona's chair, took her hand, and with a tender grip urged her to stand. "Aw, Fi." He took her into his arms and kissed her in front of Sam, not caring what his friend thought because he knew Sam was probably cheering him on inside. Indeed, Sam returned to his seat and waited for the couple to settle down and part.
Fiona was frozen with surprise and colliding emotions inside her, but when Michael took her into his arms, all that went out the window. She clung to him as if she could never let him go again, basking in the strength and warmth of his body against hers. His lips felt like a piece of heaven when he kissed her, and tears streamed out of the corners of her eyes, rolling down the sides of her face. When he finally released her, she felt the chill of the air conditioning and the separation. If only this would be over soon. The chip was their hope of ending the chase and bringing Michael home for good.
"Have you seen your Mom yet," Sam asked as Michael and Fiona separated.
Michael moved around to the comfortable looking leather chair behind the desk and sat before answering. A slight grimace crossed his face. "No, I haven't. I'd appreciate it if you didn't let her know I'm here, or I'll never hear the end of it."
Chuckling, Sam promised. "I don't wanna be the bearer of news like that. You can go see her yourself when you get a chance."
"After we retrieve the information off that chip," Michael said. "You have it, right?"
Sam nodded. "We found it in the back seat, Mike. But Russ…." He hesitated. "Russ Belliveau got stuck by your little booby trap, and now we don't know where he is."
"Booby trap?"
"Yes. Right next to the case that held the chip, there was a small needle with a vial that held something. He went down fast," Sam reported, and as he spoke and saw the perplexed look on Michael's face, the truth dawned. "You didn't put it there? Then who did?"
"Sam, where's that chip," Michael asked as he rose from his seat.
"Fi's got it in her shirt collar," Sam answered as he stood and urged her to stay sitting. He got behind her, pushed her hair aside and ordered, "Fi, tilt your head down. See? It's in here kind of tight." He retrieved his pocket knife, cut some more stitches, and extracted the chip. He handed it to Michael. "That's it, I hope. Otherwise, someone swapped it out and left a trap for anyone else looking for it."
"Who else would have known where the chip was hidden," Fiona asked, pushing her hair back into place and standing.
"I don't know." Michael turned the chip over in his hand. "It looks like the chip I hid. Let's check it." He moved to his side of the desk, and as he pushed it into a reader, Fiona and Sam came around to wait for the data to fill the screen. "It's encrypted, but when I type in the password, it will decode itself." He waited, but nothing happened. He hit a few keys, and still the screen remained empty.
"What the hell? Mike, someone must have gotten the chip ahead of us and planted a dummy in its place," Sam said.
"Del. He must have been in on it, and he put in the trap and possibly killed Russ," Fiona's words ran out with a rising fury. "I didn't trust Russ at first, but he was a good man. He didn't deserve that."
"Ever stop to think that maybe Russ planned all this," Sam asked. "He played us, Fi. I'm sorry, Mike. We should have seen it coming."
"No, it's not your fault," Michael assured them. "I worked with Russ, and he was one of us. He was a good man. Either someone forced his hand, or he had nothing to do with the chip's theft."
"Well, what do we do now," Fiona asked, looking lost. "Find Russ and grill the snot out of him?"
"If only it were that simple, Fi." Michael sat back in his chair and let out a deep breath. "Just before you arrived, one of my men called from Orlando. They found Russ." He looked up at Sam, then Fiona. "He's dead. Whatever they gave him, it killed him."
Sam muttered a curse under his breath. With a somber tone he asked, hating himself for not completely trusting that Russ was a good guy. "Did he really have a wife?"
Michael nodded, his eyes falling on Fiona. "His family will be notified. I'm sorry, Fi. Sam."
Nodding, Fiona asked again, "What do we do now, Michael?"
"You and Sam go home. Lay low for awhile." His smile was thin when he added, "Thanks for bringing the Charger back. If you don't mind, I'd like to drive it while I'm in town."
"Of course, Mike. It's your car," Sam said, and he handed him the keys. "I'll call the hotel and have a driver pick us up … I mean, me." He smiled sheepishly. "You two look like you need a room, so I'm gonna get out of here and leave you alone. See you tomorrow, maybe?"
Michael tore his eyes away from Fiona for a moment to respond to Sam. "Sure. We'll have lunch at Carlito's, how about that?"
"Sounds great. Have a good night, Mike, Fi." He patted Fiona's shoulder. At the door, he warned with a wink and a smile, "Don't get too crazy, you two." He left the office and his laughter echoed down the deserted corridor as he strolled to the elevator with the agent shadowing him all the way.
"Michael." Fiona's voice was soft, penitent. "I don't even know where to begin."
"I know where to start. I'm sorry." Michael approached her, and this time she stood and went straight into his arms where he held her with tenderness. "I'm sorry you misunderstood. This isn't forever, Fi."
"I know. You don't have to explain." Her voice was choked with emotion and as soft as a whisper. "Now that this chip is still missing, it's going to be longer, isn't it?"
"Yes. And I'm sorry for that too." He buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"I will do anything to help. You know that."
He pulled away and stared at her. "Fi, you can't. You're not part of this Agency."
"Maybe we could reinstate Bailey and Menaro's contract with me." Her smile held a sense of deviousness behind it. "You know we make a good team." As she spoke, she let her hands wander over his body, her touch blazing through the expensive material of his suit.
Michael's smile blossomed and he fought the urge to kiss her. "That we do. But it's late right now. Let's go." He paused and looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Where have you been living, anyway?"
"With your mom," she replied, her smile sultry. "I think we should find someplace else tonight."
"We can go to my hotel room," Michael said. "I just need to lock down here, and then I'll be all set."
Fiona slipped into her chair and crossed her legs, striking a delicious pose that showed off her bare legs, waiting for Michael to finish typing something into his computer and put away his files. He locked the cabinets and the computer. The chip he stuck in the middle drawer on his desk, secured it, and dropped the keys into his pocket. As he rounded the desk he took her hand and helped her to her feet.
"Are you hungry," he asked.
"Food can't satisfy me," Fiona replied with a shake of her head, her locks falling behind her shoulders.
"Room service it is," Michael declared and put his arm around her. At the door he turned off the lights and closed the door. The lock clicked and the couple headed for the elevator.
The sunlight streaming in through the sliding glass door in the bedroom of Michael's suite woke him. Parts of him ached, parts that hadn't been worked so hard since he and Fi last made love. Then he remembered the night before and a wide smile crossed his face. He turned to his right and felt a surge of love as he watched Fiona sleeping on her stomach, her arms flung over her head, her hair swirled in a wild mass spilling over her pillow and the sheet. He rolled to his side and curled up against her, taking in her warmth like a glass of water, soaking up the softness of her skin and storing it in his memory for the times when they were apart.
"Mmm, Michael," she murmured and stirred, and she squirmed around until she faced him with a sunny smile. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Fi." He kissed her, getting deeper into her until he couldn't control himself.
She gave in to him and let him orchestrate their movements. Fiona was used to taking the reins and Michael enjoyed it, but this time, she let him cover her in kisses because with each one she felt the love that had been missing from their relationship for awhile, or so it seemed. His obsession had taken him over, and she felt so far away from him. What she thought was a final betrayal drove a wedge between them. She was a fool to think that Michael could ever stop loving her. She learned her lesson and thanked God that she didn't lose him.
When Fiona called out his name in a strangled cry of passion, Michael felt like his body tipped over a waterfall into a warm spring below. She wrapped herself around him, bucking, moving, taking him as deep as she could. He hadn't known such pleasure in a long time. He was grateful that circumstances forced him to return to Miami, and he regretted that they would soon take him away again. Leaving would be even more difficult this time. He would have to be careful that he didn't long for Fiona with such a hunger that he got off his edge and did something stupid that put his life in jeopardy.
With their bodies entangled and cooling, Michael groaned. "Fi, I love you. I love this. I don't know how I'm going to be able to leave and finish what I started."
"You will," she said and wrapped her legs around him. "Whether or not we work together, I will be with you in spirit. You know that. Because God knows someone has to watch over you."
He laughed and caressed her cheek. "What would I do without you? You're the one who keeps me sane, Fi. Don't ever stop."
"I won't. I promise." She pulled him down and kissed him, stirring up another fire within their bodies.
A fist pounding on the door interrupted them, and Michael ripped himself away, grumbling under his breath as he threw on a robe and went to the door. "What do you want," he barked at the agent who stood outside the door.
"Mr. Westen, we have orders for you to leave for Eastern Europe in two hours."
"You're kidding." Michael stared at him.
"I wish I were, Sir. We have intelligence reports that the chip is on its way to a buyer there." He glanced inside the room behind him but didn't see Fiona. "Is Miss Glenanne still here?"
"It's none of your business if she is," Michael snapped.
"It is if her presence is requested on this mission," the agent replied with a slight smile. "Apparently, our intelligence discovered that she has connections to the people who are trying to sell the list. Old enemies, as it were. She knows them and may prove invaluable in this mission."
Michael's shocked expression deepened. "Under whose orders is this?"
"Director Raines, Sir." The agent added, "A bag is being packed for her. Your mother is taking care of it."
"I see. We'll swing by on the way to the airport," Michael said, his surprise turning to focusing on the mission.
The agent handed him a file. "Here's what we know. You two can brush up on the way." He turned and moved to the elevator, and Michael closed the door behind him. He found Fiona standing in the bedroom door clutching at a robe wrapped around her body, her head tilted, questioning him with her eyes.
"Get dressed, Fi. You and I have a mission to take care of. We have to stop at my Ma's and get your things after I pack. We'll be out of here in half an hour."
"Alright, then." She whirled and retreated into the bedroom to put her clothes on. She said it with such ease and acceptance, Michael smiled. It would be like the old days, and for the first time in a long time he looked forward to this mission.
Michael drove the Charger to his mother's house. He stored it in the garage to keep it safe for the time being and he and Fiona entered the house. Madeline had Fiona's bag ready to go and Fi did a quick change into something more appropriate for their trip. Michael waited with his mother in the kitchen.
"Michael, let me take you and Fiona to the airport," Maddie said with a hand on his arm. Since he walked in the door, she couldn't stop touching him. "It'll give us a chance to spend a little time together before you have to take off again. At least you'll have Fiona with you, so I don't think you'll be gone for ten years." She smirked.
"I promise I won't be gone that long, Ma." He took her into his arms and held her close. "I love you, Ma. I won't leave you alone that long. I swear it."
Michael conceded to his mother's wishes and let her drive them to the airport. On the way he called Sam and let him know that he and Fiona were leaving. Sam understood the nature of being a spy and how life could be diverted in the blink of an eye. He didn't give Michael any grief about not being able to see him again, just wished him and Fiona well and good luck. He also accepted protocol when Michael said that he couldn't tell him where they were going.
"Just know that we'll make sure that Russ's death wasn't in vain," Michael promised.
"You want me to go up to Orlando and tell his wife," Sam asked. "I think I can probably handle it better than some cold government type."
"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it."
"No problem, Mikey. You and Fi take care. I don't need to tell you how dangerous these people are."
"I know. We'll be back as soon as possible and hopefully with that chip."
Due to the secretive nature of their flight, Maddie was forced to leave Michael and Fiona at the entrance to the private hangars. A van picked them up and took them to the waiting jet while Maddie watched with anxiety written on her face. She hugged herself, imagining that it was Michael still holding her and kissing her cheek as he said goodbye. She stayed until the airplane lifted in the air and turned eastward. With a resigned sigh, she returned to her car and drove home alone.