Chapter 9

Michael Westen and Jesse Porter in the flesh! My heart raced and I stared at them. They stared at me, puzzled as to how I knew their names, no doubt. Michael managed to find his voice first and asked, "You know us?"

"Not personally, but I feel like I do. Hi, I'm Nina Kirk," I responded and smiled as I held out a hand. "I watch you on TV all the time."

Michael shook my hand, and he and Jesse exchanged glances. "Nice to meet you, Nina."

"What do you mean, you watch us on TV?" Jesse's brow furrowed with cluelessness.

"Never mind, there's no time for that right now! Come with me inside. Sam is in trouble and he needs our help!" I unlocked the door with my key fob and let them go ahead of me. "Just out of curiosity, how'd you find me?"

"We came here looking for Sam," Michael replied. "When we talked the other day, he told me the name of the apartment complex where he was, so as soon as we went through that... whatever that was... we searched for this place."

"Well, I'm glad he told you where I was and that you're here. He's being held by the police right now on suspicion of kidnapping and he needs you now more than ever." I stopped in front of my door and faced them. "They haven't charged him with anything yet, partly because they don't have enough evidence based on my testimony."

"He wouldn't kidnap anybody unless it was warranted," Jesse said. "Why'd you tell the cops that?"

"Shhh, will you keep it down? I didn't tell them he kidnapped me. I said that he was helping me, keeping me from the kidnappers." I glanced around the hallway that was empty except for us. Thankful that no one popped their head out, I said, "Hang on, let's go inside and we'll talk. I'll tell you everything that happened." I unlocked the door and prepared for the worst. I was almost afraid to go inside, fearful that the rotting Russian corpse would still be on the floor. Police tape criss-crossed the door, but Detective Kowalski said my apartment was clear for occupancy again.

"What's that for," Michael asked.

I grimaced and ripped down the tape. "Long story. Come in and I'll give you the short version, and then we need to figure out how to get Sam out of jail!"

I stepped into the living room and was pleased to find that not only was the body gone, the window was fixed. Someone had cleaned the bloodstain, but a faint uneven circular area stood out where the off-white carpet had been bleached. Otherwise, there was no evidence that anything had happened, although I detected a slight odor of death.

"You guys want anything to drink?" They shook their heads, so I invited them to sit. I sat across from them, leaned my elbows on my knees and began the story of my wild ride with Sam. I left the lovemaking part out, of course. That was on a need to know basis, and it wasn't important to the situation at hand.

"So Sam is in lockup right now," Michael said, slow and calculating. His hands pressed into his knees, gripping them tightly. "Do you know exactly where?"

"The Detective said he was being kept at the station overnight, and in the morning they were meeting with the DA. Sam wasn't being very cooperative and he asked for a lawyer, so they had no choice. Most likely he'll have legal defense by morning." I blinked, an overwhelming wave of emotion passing over me. "The US government has been contacted as well, so the Feds will be showing up to interview Sam, I'm sure."

"Mike, that's our in," Jesse said with a slight smile spreading across his face. It wasn't a smile of joy, but satisfaction that he had a plan that would work. "We just need access to a couple of suits."

"It's kind of late to be going to the mall," I noted. Eying Michael's physique, I said, "Stand up, please."

He shrugged and stood, and I analyzed him as he turned in a slow circle. "I think I know someone who's your size, and I bet he'd have a suit you can wear. Stay here. I'll be right back," I exclaimed as I jumped from my seat. My eyes raked over Jesse. "I'm sorry, Jesse. You're too tall."

"Yeah, it's a curse sometimes," he quipped. "I suppose I can go the way I am." He was dressed in dark gray slacks and a mint green shirt with long sleeves that he'd rolled up to the elbow.

Michael examined Jesse from top to bottom and back again and nodded. "You look like an overworked Fed. It'll be fine." He swept his hands down in front of his outfit, a pair of dark greenish-gray fatigue pants and a black t-shirt with combat boots. "I, on the other hand, am not looking the part."

"Don't worry. Why don't you come with me, Michael? That'll save me the trouble of returning the suit right away if it doesn't fit."

"Jess, you stay here," Michael ordered, and Jesse nodded.

"No problem. If the Russians are still out there, it would be better for you to go with Nina anyway. We can't risk her being snatched."

"True." In the hallway heading toward Gary's apartment, Michael asked, "Why do the Russians want you?"

"Beats me. They were chasing Sam when he came here and I took him in." I stopped at the door and heard muffled sounds on the other side of the door. Either he was up watching TV or playing video games. Lifting a fist, I rapped hard on the wood.

I heard a muffled, "Coming!" Within seconds the door was open and Gary stood before us smiling at me as if he thought I'd come in for some geeky one on one time. "Nina, I'm so glad you're safe! Did you get away from that Russian guy? Or did the cops find you?"

"Sam was not one of the Russians, Gary. Now, I don't have time for this." I flapped a hand toward Michael. "Gary, this is Michael, Michael this is Gary. You two look like you're about the same size." Michael nodded in agreement. "Good. Gary, I need a big favor. Michael needs one of your suits, a shirt, and shoes. He's gotta look like a businessman."

Gary may have been an extreme computer geek, but I knew he spent enough time doing presentations and wearing suits. Surely he had something Michael could wear! His smile never wavered as he kept his eyes on me. Gary let us into the apartment and hustled to his room to pick out a couple of suits. A dark gray with a faint herringbone pattern fit well, and I was pleased to see that Michael could rock the pink shirt. Anyone, except for Sam, would have looked too effeminate in the shade.

When Jesse saw my car he gave Michael a look, but Michael seemed oblivious to its similarity to Fiona's. He just needed transportation for the mission. "Michael, do you think it's safe for us to be out on the streets? Sam and I haven't seen those Russian guys since I got away from them at the motel, but I doubt they're gone."

"Yeah, we're keeping an eye out for them. Don't worry." Indeed, while he sat in the passenger seat, Michael scanned the sidewalks and other cars. Fortunately there weren't many people out in this part of town, not at this hour.

I found a parking space as close to the station entrance as I could get without taking a handicapped spot, and the three of us entered the building. Michael and Jesse were appropriately dressed for their parts, but I had no idea what they were planning on doing for identification. Michael strode to the reception desk and whipped out something that looked official.

"I'm Agent Preston with the FBI, and this is my associate Agent Cole. We were told you have a prisoner for us, a Sam Axe."

The Sergeant gave Michael a long look, longer than he'd had to examine his ID. "Hang on, I've gotta talk to the Detective."

"Make it fast. We've got to get this man to DC ASAP." Michael leaned his elbow on the narrow shelf in front of the bullet proof glass and chewed on a piece of gum, looking around the reception area with a bored expression.

Getting off the phone, the Sergeant announced, "Detective Kowalski is handling the case, and he'll be right out. Please, have a seat over there."

Michael tugged on his lapels as he stood straight. "No thanks, I'll stand. We just flew two hours from DC after being stuck on the tarmac for an hour. I've sat enough, thanks." He slowly paced in a large circle with his hands on his hips, his open suit jacket showing off his trim figure, and the Sergeant watched him with increasing nervousness.

Detective Kowalski came out and his eyes gravitated to the two strangers before he focused on me. He looked really tired and a little annoyed. "You caught me just in time. I was about ready to go home." He smiled and said, "Ms. Kirk, what are you doing here?"

I came forward and with a confident voice I said, "Detective, these men came from Washington DC to pick up Sam and take him back."

"Really? You guys care to tell me why?" He eyed Michael and Jesse with suspicion, and he stood with his hands on his hips, mirroring Michael's stance.

In a bland, authoritative voice, Michael responded. "That's classified. I'm afraid we can't talk about it, just that Sam Axe is a very important part of our investigation." Michael stepped closer to the Detective. He was slightly taller, enough to give him an intimidating stare down.

Kowalski would not be swayed by Michael's show. He returned the menacing stare and said, "Yeah, well, you can't have him yet."

I sighed loud enough for everyone to look at me. "Why are you people holding him? Sam didn't do anything! The Russian guys were trying to kidnap me, not him. Sam is a nice guy, a true blue American. He probably doesn't even know Russian."

"Actually, he does," Detective Kowalski said.

Shoot, I'd forgotten that it was mentioned in an episode that he spoke Russian!

Kowalski continued. "He's in a holding cell right now with another guy, and they're chatting up pretty good. I don't know the language myself, but it sure sounds like Russian to me."

"Wait. You put one of the kidnappers in the same cell as our guy," Michael raged. "What were you thinking?"

"If he can help us get through to him, things'll go easier on Sam. That's what I'm thinking," Kowalski countered. "The fact that we can't ID Sam isn't helping him get out of here. That and the fact that he won't talk and corroborate what Ms. Kirk told us, we can only assume that he's worth keeping. We get those things ironed out, and he helps break a possible Russian spec ops, we might cut him some slack."

"There's a reason you can't ID him, Detective." Michael's voice rose in volume and gruffness, and he suddenly dropped it when he realized that the Sergeant was eyeing him. "He's spec ops. I shouldn't even be telling you this." Looking around and licking his lips, he continued, "If Sam gets hurt..." His tone was as cold as ice and his blue eyes were even colder as he stepped closer to the Detective. "You'll have to answer to my boss, and believe me, you'll be lucky if you've got a backside left after we're done."

"Okay, okay. Come on, I'll take you to him."

Detective Kowalski led us down a corridor lined with cells, most of which were empty, until we came upon the one with Sam and the other man. I studied him, trying to place him at the motel or my apartment, but he didn't look familiar.

"Sam, Agents Preston and Cole are here to get you out of town." He didn't make a move to open the door.

"Hey, that's great!" Sam grinned at his friends. "Did Nina call you?' He slipped me a private smile.

"No. We got a call from HQ, and we're taking you back to DC. We can talk about it later." Michael gave Kowalski a pointed look. "After you've been released, of course."

"Sure. I just need to talk to Sam about something, and then after a little paper pushing, he'll be on his way." Kowalski nodded at the officer in charge of the cells. He came forward and opened the door to let Sam out, but he gave the Russian a death stare. The other man stayed inside.

The Detective placed the four of us into an interrogation room while he went to take care of the paperwork. The door closed and immediately Michael asked, "Sam, what happened? How did you wind up here?"

"How did you guys get here?"

"Uh, guys, I know you're all eager for answers, but you might want to hold off." I tilted my head in the direction of the camera in the corner.

"You're right. Thank you," Michael said with a short nod. He looked nervous but he kept it well hidden for the camera. He grinned and patted Sam's upper arm. "Boy, are we glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you two, Brother. It's been a crazy few days."

The Detective knocked and entered the room carrying a thin file. "You can go, Sam. I just got the DA out of bed and talked to him. He's not interested in pursuing this, so we're not gonna charge you with anything."

"That's great!" I exclaimed and pressed my hands together. "Thank you, Detective."

"Hey, no problem. I've got a lot of other legitimate cases out there. I don't need to be wasting my time on this." He took a breath and returned his attention to Sam. "You can go, but first I need to know what that Russky said while you were sharing a cell."

"Not much, I'm afraid." Sam shrugged. "I'm sorry, man. He's just a stoolie, taking one for the team so to speak. They're still out there, and he said something about a meeting point at Brickell Key, but that's it. He was supposed to meet friends there and he was being falsely accused." He let out a small sigh. "He was really careful, even though I spoke his language fluently. I'm sorry. Really, if you gave us enough time I'm sure we could get something out of him."

"Thanks, Sam, but your pals here say you need to get back to DC." Kowalski smiled. "Thanks to what you got, it's a start."

Before we knew it, Sam was walking out of the station house with Michael, Jesse, and me. He walked beside me and took my hand, squeezed it, and flashed me another one of those smiles that melted my insides. We stopped at the car and I had to release his hand to open it. He sat up front with me.

"Where to, boys?"

"Back to your apartment, if you don't mind," Jesse suggested. "We need to talk about these Russians and figure out what our next step is."

"No need for that, fellas." Every eye landed on Sam as he spoke. He shifted in his seat to address Michael and Jesse in the back. "That guy in my cell wasn't just a stoolie. He was a contact person for the team. Seems to me we find the team, we take care of the problem, end of story."

"But what do they want," I asked.

"They want Mike dead, and I was just an avenue to get to him. But I guess they figured after awhile that they were in the wrong place and that I was stuck here, so the plan was for them to go back to their launch point." He took a breath. "Ivan was supposed to meet them there, but he got picked up by the cops."

"How on earth did you get him to tell you all that," I asked.

"I told him if he got back, I'd make sure he got a deal. He wants to stay in America and live the dream, I guess."

The dream. I wished I could tell the guy that dreams and wishes weren't all they were cracked up to be. After all, look how mine twisted around and turned into something completely different than I'd hoped for. And now, it appeared that it would only get worse. They were all making plans to go home. Even Sam.

"So they're back where we belong," Jesse said.

"Perfect. We'll go back to where we came in," Michael said. "Sam, do you remember where you entered this universe, or whatever it is?"

"It had to be close to Nina's apartment," Sam replied. "I came out in an alley, ran a few blocks and around a couple corners, and there was her building. Someone was leaving, so I ducked in pretending like I lived there."

"You'll probably have to go back to where you started," Jesse said. "At least that's what I'm guessing."

"Okay." The word sounded so sad and hollow inside the vehicle. "I'll take you guys to your location, and then I'll drop off Sam." I swallowed a lump in my throat, afraid I would start crying. This was the end, and I didn't have time to prepare for it. I had only as long as it took to drop Michael and Jesse off and deliver Sam to his spot. Just saying goodbye to them was bad enough. While Jesse searched for the spot to go through, I said to Michael, "You take good care of Sam. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"None of us does," Michael declared with a smile. "Thanks for taking care of Sam while he was here."

"It was my pleasure." My eyes slid to Sam and it pleased me to see him duck his head to hide his flushing face. He knew my words weren't superficial, and obviously neither were his.

"Found it, Mike. Sammy, my man, we'll all meet at Carlito's and plan our next moves," Jesse said. "Don't stay too long. Time's wasting on us finding these guys."

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you in a little while."

Sam and I stood side by side and watched as Michael and Jesse stepped up to a driveway that led to the large door of a bakery warehouse. They turned and looked at us before taking a step, then another, and my jaw dropped when their bodies went right through the door. It was like something out of a science fiction show.

Sam's words came out on a breath. "Did you just see that?"

"Yeah," I answered Sam with the same breathless inflection.

"I wonder if I'll have to do that too. I know there was a brick wall behind me when I just appeared in that alley." He turned and cupped my elbows with his hands. "Dammit Nina, I've got to go."

I fought the tears, but a couple of rebels slithered down my cheeks. He wiped them away and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation of his skin on mine. I dared to speak. "Right now I want to be selfish and beg you to stay." I opened my eyes. "But I know you could never do that because Michael and Jesse need your help. I hope they can recruit Fiona too."

The corner of his mouth tipped up. "I'm sure Mike's already working on that."

His hands framed my face and his eyes wandered to my lips. His lips followed, and he kissed me with such tenderness that a sob broke from deep inside. My arms wrapped around him and I was afraid I would never be able to let him go. But I had to. I knew that there were a few more episodes for the team before Burn Notice faded off the air, and they needed Sam in order to complete them.

"Please, Sam, don't die. Promise me that you and Jesse'll have a spinoff or something." I sniffled and buried my face in his collar.

Sam laughed, and I loved the sound. "A spinoff with Jesse? Are you serious?"

"Yes! You guys are so funny together. It would be great. The fans have had to deal with three years of darker and darker episodes." I braved a look at his face and saw sadness in his. I ran my hand along his cheek and said, "It's time for some levity."

"I couldn't agree more. We're all tired of this, but I guess if we're getting taken off the air, no matter what we'll be getting our rest. Forever."

Another sob choked out of me. "Don't talk like that!" I clasped him to me again and with desperation in my weepy, raspy voice, I said, "If it looks like the end, leave. Come back here. You know I'll be waiting for you."

"I don't know if I can, but I promise you, if it's at all possible, I will." He buried himself in the joy of joining in one last kiss. He didn't want it to end, and neither did I. But it had to, and eventually he broke the contact and slipped away. He left so swiftly, I didn't have time to register that he was out of my arms until I opened my eyes and saw him fade into the brick wall. His eyes were on me the entire time and his left hand held up in a slight wave.

"No! Sam, don't go!" I ran up to the wall and tried to get through, but I only succeeded in crashing into it and bumping my cheek. The rough baked clay scraped my skin and I felt a wetness there. I didn't care. My hands pressed and prodded all around the space where I knew Sam had disappeared, but nothing worked. He was gone. I was the one who was stuck, and I couldn't imagine what life would be like without the excitement of Burn Notice in my life. Not just the show. Sam was who I would miss the most.

As I trudged back to my car, I felt an increasing weight spreading over my shoulders like a mantel of despair. I would go back to my life but I would never be able to shake the deep sense of loss. I'd lost something important that day. Somehow I managed to get myself to the apartment and return to my unit. Gary would most likely be hounding me in the morning for his suit. I totally forgot about it in the heat of the moment. I would get him a new one to replace it, because that was the right thing to do.

If only it were that easy to fill the giant hole in my heart.