Chapter 10

"Hey Maddie, how would you like to go to Disney World," Sam asked with a cheerful voice when Madeline picked up the phone.

A chill ran down her spine, because whenever Sam took her to that magical place, it usually meant that trouble was brewing in Miami. But after being on the run with her son and his friends, Madeline felt confident she could take care of herself. "What happened? I don't have to leave town, Sam. You know I can handle myself just fine."

He chuckled. "Nothing's wrong. I just... I need to run an errand, and while I'm up there I thought you might like to go. That's all."

She thought about it for a moment. "Okay. What time are you coming to pick me up?"

"I'll be there early, about six tomorrow morning."

"Perfect. I'll be waiting. Is Elsa coming along?" A smile grew on her lips. She'd never met Sam's girlfriend, but from what Michael and Fiona told her about Elsa, she doubted that the woman would tear herself away from her work to go to a theme park.

"I'm working on that," Sam replied, to her surprise. "Elsa needs to get out of the office for awhile. She's had a lot going on and it's making her crazy, I can see it. Nothing a twirl in a teacup couldn't cure, right Maddie?" He laughed.

Her laugh sounded hollow. "I couldn't agree more." Michael was gone again, she already missed him, and for a moment she considered that perhaps a ride in a teacup might do her some good too. She pasted another smile on her face and said, "I'll see you tomorrow at six."

"Sounds good, Maddie."

After she hung up the phone, Madeline prepared for bed. She had to get her rest because tomorrow would be a big day. Even at her age, she loved the Magic Kingdom. It brought back a childhood she wished she'd had, and for a few hours she could be supremely happy and forget about her troubles. She turned out the lights downstairs, locked the doors, and shuffled to the staircase that led to her room.

The house was so lonely without Fiona in it. She'd gotten used to the younger woman padding around after Maddie herself had gone to bed. She heard the sighs and the attempts to hold off tears when the Irish lass missed Michael the most. Like a yo-yo, Michael always came back. But he also went away just as quick and easy, like the ocean tide. In that respect, he was just as reliable as the ocean's rhythms.

Madeline drifted off to sleep dreaming of the good times when Michael was home and Nate was alive. Even their happier times couldn't be without dysfunction, but at least they were together and they loved each other. So many times she wondered what they would have all been like if she'd made the choice to leave Frank when the boys were young. Would they have been better off, or worse? She envisioned a tirade, one of the last Frank had before Michael left for the Army. Glass broke, the shards tinkling to the floor.

With a gasp, she awoke and sat up in her bed. That wasn't a dream, it was real. Madeline held her breath and listened to footsteps slowly moving across the floor from the linoleum in the kitchen to the wood floor in the dining and living rooms. One of her favorite vases fell, popping like a light bulb as it struck the wood floor. She picked up her cell phone and dialed.

On the fourth ring, Sam answered. "Yeahlllo," he mumbled.

"Sorry to wake you, Sam, but there's someone in the house. They're downstairs," Madeline whispered into the phone. She heard the mattress shift on his side of the bed and the thump of his feet on the floor.

"Where are you, Maddie?" A shot of adrenaline tensed up his voice.

"Upstairs in the bedroom. I-I don't know if they're coming up here or not."

"Get in the closet as quick as you can. I'll be there in a few minutes," Sam said and closed the connection.

Madeline did as she was told, being careful to get out of bed and move across the floor without making a noise. The closet was a bigger challenge. She slipped the squeaky door open just enough to get inside. It was dark as coal, but she knew where the shotgun was. Sam was aware that she kept it inside, and she knew how to use it if necessary. Still, it made her feel better knowing that he was on his way to assist.

She heard the murmur of voices downstairs, the bass timber of men filtering through the plaster ceiling and wood floor beneath her bare feet. Her breath stilled. Otherwise, she would begin to hyperventilate. Despite the time being on the run with Michael, she still couldn't get used to having a threat hanging over her head, and for the life of her she couldn't understand how Michael, Sam, Fiona, and Jesse could handle it all the time.

"There's an upstairs. Go check it out," a voice barked with an accent.

Madeline's eyes scrunched shut and she held back a squeak of panic. They were coming for her! Heavy footsteps entered the bedroom.

"Boss, there's a bedroom up here, looks like the bed's been slept in but nobody's here."

The accented voice crackled over a radio. "She's gotta be here somewhere. Find Westen's mom and bring her down."

"Yes, Sir."

This was it. In seconds, the man would open the closet door and find her. Madeline buried herself deeper into the corner, throwing a blanket over her white blonde hair to camouflage herself and tucking it around her light colored pajamas. The door creaked and groaned, and she detected night light filtering through the crack.

BOOM! The house shimmied with the concussion.

"What the..." Madeline's invader muttered and turned away from the closet.

A volley of gunfire down below got his attention and signaled Sam's arrival. Knowing he couldn't take on these men alone, Madeline burst out of the closet with one of Frank's old neckties. She held both ends, flipped it into the air and over the man's head, slipping it around his neck and pulling. He was taller and stronger, fighting against her, but she used all her weight to pull back and cut off his air supply. He stopped fighting her and tried to claw the tie away from his windpipe, but it was a losing battle. He soon collapsed to the floor unconscious.

Madeline checked to make sure he was still breathing. Satisfied that she hadn't killed him, she tied his hands behind his back and pulled another necktie from the closet to bind his ankles. Then she picked up his automatic weapon and made her way to the top of the stairs. The shooting had settled down and it was quiet, too quiet for her taste. Smoke rose from the living room and she knew it wasn't the lingering pollution from her cigarettes.

Sam's name formed on her lips but she held back, afraid to call for him and give herself away. She listened and heard strange noises, gasping, groaning, and her curiosity would soon get the best of her. She had to be careful.

"Maddie? Are you okay? It's me, Sam."

"Sam? I'm up here." She grinned, so happy to hear his voice.

He poked his head into the stairwell and looked up at her. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." Emotion thickened her voice as she replied. She dropped the weapon on the bed and trotted down the steps where Sam met her at the bottom and took her into his arms. She clung to him, thankful to have his warmth.

"Maddie, you're so cold. You should have put on a robe before you came down."

"I'm fine. Just... I was scared." She tried to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. "How can you do this without... without falling apart?"

"I guess it becomes natural," Sam replied, even though he himself trembled slightly. "We better get you out of here. No doubt after that skirmish, someone called the cops." He paused, listening. "Yep, I hear sirens. Either we leave now, or you have to face the cops and deal with a lot of questions."

"What did these men want, Sam?" She looked up at him with terror still in her eyes.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "But I think they were looking for something."

"I think they wanted me," Maddie cried. She swallowed as she heard doors slam outside. "There's another one upstairs. He's not dead. I, uh, I managed to knock him out."

"Maddie, I didn't think you had it in you. Way to go!" Sam praised her and gave her another hug. Someone knocked on the door and Sam broke away from Maddie. He curled his hands around her upper arms which were covered with gooseflesh. "Hey, you just stay here. I'll get that."

"Okay."

Sam turned on one of the still intact lamps on his way to the front door. He unlocked and opened it to find several police officers standing there. "Evening, Officers."

"Who are you?" The officer sized up Sam with suspicious eyes.

"Sam Axe. I'm a family friend. Who are you?"

"Officer Torres, Miami PD. We received a report of massive gunfire coming from this house," the officer replied. "Mind if we come in?"

"Not at all," Sam replied and opened the door wider. "This is my friend Mike's mom's house. He's out of the country right now and Maddie's alone, so when she called and said someone was in the house, I rushed right over."

Torres took in Sam's rumpled appearance and nodded. The officers entered the living room and saw two bodies laid out on the floor bleeding. Torres asked, "Who are these men?"

"I have no idea. When I showed up I came in the back and they were bumping around in here with flashlights, like they were looking for something," Sam answered. "They saw me, started shooting, and, well, I shot back. I guess I got lucky." He smiled sheepishly as he backed up and allowed the officers to move into the living room. He used the side of his foot to kick a spent flash grenade under the couch.

Torres nodded and scanned the disheveled room. His eyes locked on Madeline standing near the staircase. "You must be Mrs. Westen, the homeowner?"

"Yes, I am." She looked at him with distrust. "How did you know my name?"

Without missing a beat, Torres responded as he put on a reassuring smile. "Your neighbor, Mrs. Gale, told us your name is Madeline Westen."

Madeline gave him a shaky smile. "Yes, this is my home. I don't know why these men would come in here and tear up the place."

"Like I said, I'm sure these guys were looking for something," Sam said as he stood over one of the bodies and prodded it with the toe of his shoe.

The dead man's collar shifted, and Sam saw a shadowy image on his neck near the collarbone. Frowning, he crouched to take a better look.

"What is that," Torres asked as he joined Sam in his inspection.

"It's a tattoo," Sam replied. "I've seen this before."

"Gang tat?"

"Well, in a sense. It's Celtic." He sucked in a breath. "Oh, crap. I remember now. This is a design used by the Irish Brothers." He looked into the cop's puzzled eyes. "I used to do covert ops for the government, and I crossed paths with these guys. They're not good people."

"Why would they invade Mrs. Westen's home," Torres asked, still confused.

"They're looking for something that their compatriots already have." He paused, deep in thought for a moment, calculating where Mike and Fi could possibly be at the moment. Most likely setting in wherever they were headed. He muttered, "Or do they?"

"Mr. Axe, you're not making any sense."

"Excuse me a minute. I need to make an important call." Sam stood and whipped out his phone as he walked into the kitchen. He hated to interrupt Mike at such a late hour, but this was vital. He surveyed the front rooms and the officers combing it, picking up evidence and documenting it in little baggies. Maddie came to his side and he put an arm around her while he waited for Michael to answer his phone.

"Come on, Mike, pick up."

"This is Michael, leave a message."

"Crap. Mike, it's Sam. Some guys from the Irish Brothers broke into your Ma's house. I think they were looking for the list. Don't worry, Maddie's fine, I got here in time and took out two guys. Listen, I'll talk to you more about this when you call me. So call me." He closed the connection before he gave too much away in the cops' presence.

"Mr. Axe, it sounds like you need to come down to the station with us." Torres studied him.

"He doesn't need to go down to the station. I can talk to him."

Everyone turned to see Detective Howard enter the house. He was dressed in a pair of casual slacks and a Hawaiian shirt, not unlike Sam. Except for the balding head, they could almost have been brothers.

"Hey, Charlie. You didn't have to come running over here," Sam said, greeting him with a handshake.

"Not a problem, Sam. I got a call about some ruckus at the Westen house, and I remember you and Michael being friends, so I came right over." Charlie looked over the scene and focused on the body near Sam's feet.

"You know Mike," Sam asked.

Charlie replied, "No. It's just that Westen has a reputation." He smirked, and Sam knew that he was referring to Detective Paxson and her dogged determination to take his friend down on some violation, but she was never able to make anything stick. "I was doing some boring stake out and got a unit to do the job for me." He smiled. "So what's up? What's going on here?"

Sam glanced around the room. "Frankly, Charlie, I think this is something the CIA needs to get involved in. It's a long story, and they know a good chunk of it."

Charlie nodded. "Okay. Torres, your men need to get out there and check the perimeter for any clues. Sam, call the Feds." He closed in on Sam and muttered, "And if you don't mind filling me in on what you can, I'd be grateful."

"Just stick around, pal. I don't know where Mike is right now, but he didn't answer his phone. I'll leave another message with the Agency. No doubt he'll call as soon as he can."

While they waited for an answer from the CIA, the police processed the crime scene and Sam took Maddie to the hotel with him. Charlie allowed her to pack an overnight bag with a couple outfits and her personal items, and she and Sam left with promises that he would keep Charlie in the loop as much as he could.

"I wanna know who these guys are, Sam, and why they were breaking in here."

"It'll be up to the CIA to decide how much of that you learn," Sam said with an apologetic tone. "I'd love to tell you what's going on, but this is a matter of national security."

Charlie flapped a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before. Get outta here, Axe. I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Sam?" Madeline looked at him as he led her to the back door.

"Yeah, Maddie?" He stopped and turned to face her.

"I think I could really use that trip to Disney World now." She gave him a sad smile.

He mirrored the smile and as he put an arm around her shoulders to escort her outside, he agreed. "Me too, Maddie."