Chapter 9

The best they could do for Sam was a cot in the living room. "No problem, it'll remind me of Afghanistan." He winked and said, "At least I didn't have people there trying to steal my guns."

Kurt couldn't help himself. He laughed, but Amanda's steely gaze settled him down quickly. "Sorry, honey, but that was kind of funny."

"I'd forgotten about your lame sense of humor," Amanda said to Sam and turned toward the hall. "Good night."

Kurt waited until Amanda was out of the room before speaking. "Sorry, man."

"It's okay, Kurt. I deserve everything she throws at me. I won't deny that." He stepped closer and spoke softly. "I'm worried about whether I can trust her to not turn me in."

"Nothing's gonna happen as long as I'm around here, Axe. Don't worry. She's gotten it out of her system now, so she'll be fine. Really."

"How long have you and Amanda known each other?"

"Oh, about ten, fifteen years now."

"I see." A lot longer than I knew her, that's for sure. Of course he'd know her moods and peculiarities better than me.

Kurt clapped Sam on the arm and nodded. "Night, buddy."

"Night."

Theresa finished up in the kitchen, turned out the light, and came into the living room. She stuck her hands into her back pockets and looked around, afraid to meet his eyes. "I... well, um, night, Jake, I mean, Sam." She finally looked at him, and with a smile of embarrassment, she added, "I still can't believe that you're Scumbag Sam!"

"Yeah, I am."

"It may seem hard to believe after what happened, but she really is over you. I think it was just too much of a shock for her to see you today."

"I can imagine. I sure didn't expect to see her again." He smiled at her. "Night, Terri."

She retreated to the second bedroom and closed the door. Sam left a light on in the living room and went to the bathroom to prepare for bed. Both bedroom doors were closed. He heard Terri moving around in the room across the hall. She settled down before he was finished. On the other side of the wall, he heard Amanda and Kurt's voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. No doubt arguing about his presence in their home. Amanda was on the fence, that he could see. She still felt something for him, but she didn't want to, and that made her angry. It made him feel guilty all over again. If he'd only treated her right, and truly loved her, this never would have happened, and most likely, he wouldn't be on the run right now.

He decided to sleep in his clothes, just in case, and kept the gun tucked underneath his body. Most likely Kurt had a firearm or two in the house, but he wanted to make sure he had something he could use to defend himself if Amanda got trigger happy in the middle of the night. As he closed his eyes, he realized that his joke about Afghanistan wasn't too far off the mark. They may not have worried about someone stealing their arms, but killing raids were always a problem. When he bunked there while on a mission, he didn't get much rest. He and his team spent the night with one eye open waiting for an attack.

It's really sad that I can't trust you, Amanda. That I have to fear for my life from my own wife! Sort of wife. Ex. Whatever you are! This whole thing just gets crazier and crazier. What was I thinking, coming here? Why should I expect that my buddies will help me? If they're real friends, like Kurt, I shouldn't have to worry about them turning me in, but if my own ex wants to reap a reward...

Sam got up from the cot and paced himself into the kitchen for a glass of water. Can I really trust Kurt? We were friends in high school and haven't seen each other since then. He's married to my wife, for crying out loud! His allegiance is going to be with her, not me, and if she decides I've got to go... No, this isn't going to work. I have to get out of here tonight.

He reached into his pocket for the truck key, and then he realized that Amanda must have kept it. He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. Like it or not, he was stuck unless he hot wired his own vehicle. Then he smiled. The spare key! He pulled out his wallet, opened it and retrieved the key out of the slit where most people would have kept a credit card. He knew that he was repeating history by sneaking away in the middle of the night, but he couldn't sleep there if he couldn't trust Amanda. He went back into the kitchen, found a junk drawer which contained, among dozens of other things, a pad of paper and some pens. He pulled a pen out with the paper, and started writing a note. He got as far as "Dear Amanda and Kurt."

"Sam, whatcha doing?"

"Kurt." His head shot up. "Did I wake you?"

"No man, I just can't sleep for some reason." He crossed the kitchen and went to the coffee maker. "Want some?" He held up the empty pot. "I'll make some coffee if you want it. Otherwise I'll just have the instant crap."

"Sure, I'll have some." He ripped the sheet off the pad, crumpled it, and threw it in the garbage. He took a seat at the table and waited while Kurt made coffee. "So why can't you sleep? Worried about me doing something?"

"No, I'm more worried about Amanda smothering you in your sleep."

Sam chuckled. "You and me both, buddy!"

The coffee maker beeped, and Kurt poured two cups. He set them on the table, brought a couple containers of creamer from the fridge and dropped some spoons on the surface next to the sugar bowl. "There you go." He took a sip of his coffee.

Sam sipped his coffee and stared at the steam rising from it.

"What's going on, Sam? Who's after you?"

"The CIA."

"Why?"

"I don't know if I should tell you. I don't want to endanger anyone else." He paused and set down his cup. "I was coming here to LA to see if I could find some of my old intelligence buddies and see what they know is coming through the CIA pipeline. And then maybe we can use that to figure out a way to exonerate ourselves."

"We? Ourselves?" Kurt looked at Sam, confused.

"My friends and I. The ones I worked with in Miami."

"Ah, I see." Kurt nodded. "I know some people who might be able to get you into the local CIA offices."

"No, no way. I might as well just throw my hands up in the air and give up."

"Maybe I can arrange a meet somewhere."

"Kurt, if this goes sideways and you wind up in prison, Amanda will surely kill me then!" He shook his head. "I want you involved as little as possible."

"Well, until you can tell me what is going on, in detail, I can't help you. If I know what you need, then I can put out some word to people I know who can get you the info. Then I'll just back off and deny anything and everything."

When Sam looked into Kurt's eyes, he knew he could trust him. "Okay. You've gotta swear that this isn't going anywhere past these walls." He paused, his eyes turned toward the opening between the kitchen and the living room, and he said, "And that includes you, Manda."

She came out of hiding, a scowl on her face. "I don't know how you knew I was there."

"I'll never tell." Sam grinned.

"Before you start talking about all this CIA spy stuff, I want to know what happened to you after you left me. Everything."

"A lot of it is classified."

"Okay, whatever's not classified, then! I deserve to know where you were all this time!" She stood with her arms crossed and a defiant look on her face.

"Yeah, you do," Sam agreed. He pulled the chair away from the table and said, "Sit down. Kurt, you might want to get her a cup of coffee, it's going to be a long night." He waited until she was settled in with a cup of coffee before he began. "After I left you, I was sent to SEAL training. I graduated, and then I was on one mission after another for about twenty years. Lots of covert stuff that I can't talk about. I wanted to see you, but it's not like I could just say, 'Hey, I think I'll go see Amanda this weekend!' A couple of times I had long leaves and came stateside. I tried to find you, but you were gone. I traced you by your married and maiden names, but I came up with nothing."

"Where did you look for me?"

"San Diego, where we started. I didn't know where else to search."

"I moved shortly after you left me and went back home to Texas."

"Yeah, I got nothing but a dead end there, too."

"I met Mac in Houston, and he told me what he knew about you. For awhile, we didn't know if you were dead or alive, Sam."

"Yeah, and with good reason. I was so deep, even my mom didn't know where I was. And I didn't find out when she died until almost three years later." He took a sip of his coffee. "Anyway, I served in covert ops and intelligence gathering for a long time, but after a failed mission in Columbia, I wound up in front of a military court and came out with a discharge. I ran off to Miami with my tail between my legs, and I was determined to drink and screw myself into oblivion." He paused, took a sip of his coffee, and smiled. "Then I ran into Michael Westen, and life hasn't been the same since."

He told them about teaming up with Michael and Fiona, how Jesse joined them, and eventually even Michael's mom Madeline got involved. "Mike's burn notice wasn't as simple as it seemed on the surface. There were all kinds of people involved, and he worked through every one of them until he thought he was done and could get his job back. But this guy, Anson Fullerton, he was the last one. Crafty and arrogant, he turned Mike's life into a wasteland."

Kurt asked, "Where's this Anson guy now?"

"Dead. We finally got him trapped. The CIA wanted him alive so he could be questioned, but after all the crap we went through with him, we knew he'd never give them anything. He'd manipulate everybody until they thought he should be nominated for Man of the Year. Like Jesse said once, 'Sometimes you have to put the mad dog down.' So we did. And because Anson calculated that we might catch him and kill him, he put in place a disinformation campaign that made us all look like the bad guys. So now the CIA wants us."

Amanda took in a breath. "Wow. Sounds like you've been through a nightmare for the past seven years."

"Yeah, you could say that." He drained his cup and got up for a refill. "Anybody want any?"

Kurt and Amanda said, "Yes."

Sam filled their cups, put the carafe back on the machine, and sat down. "So now you know what I'm up against. Are you going to help?" He turned to face Amanda. "What about you? Still want to turn me in?"

"Somehow, I have the feeling that if I did, the CIA wouldn't give me a dime, so it's not worth the trouble," Amanda responded, a crooked smile on her face. Then she sobered and rested her chin on her hand. "How do you know that this Anson guy didn't engineer this whole manhunt just to scare you guys? Separate you, scatter you around the country, and he can do what he wants."

"But he's dead, Amanda. I saw him bleed out with my own eyes."

She pursed her lips as if in thought. "What if you only saw what he wanted you to see?"

"What are you saying," Sam whispered as his eyes bored into hers. He gritted his teeth and asked, "What do you know, Amanda?"

"Nothing. But thinking like a cynic, I'm inclined to believe that he played all of you once again." She actually looked sorry for him, something that Sam never expected. She turned to Kurt. "I don't know what we can do to help. Do you, honey?" She reached out for his hand, and he took it. Sam noted it, but to his relief, he felt no sense of jealousy. He and Amanda were ancient history, and he had a woman back home who loved him like no other.

Kurt spoke up. "I'll talk to some people who can get you access to the CIA. That's as good a place as any to start."

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping to do with my old buddies."

"How well can you trust them? Do you know that if you contact them, they won't report to Anson if he's still alive?"

Sam hesitated to answer.

"That's what I thought." Kurt sighed and put down his empty cup. "I'm gonna try to sleep on this tonight and see if I can come up with an idea. Don't worry, Sam. We'll figure this out."

"Thanks, Kurt." He looked into his old friend's eyes and knew without a doubt that he was trustworthy. Amanda still registered uncertainty in hers, but if Kurt truly believed in him, Sam had no doubt he could convince Amanda. It was obvious that the two had what had been lacking in his relationship with her: an equal partnership and respect for each other. Sam and Amanda didn't have time for that when their minds were full of lust back in the day. "Okay, I'm gonna see if I can get to sleep now."

"Let's all do that." Amanda grabbed the cups and took them to the sink. "You guys go lay down, I'll take care of this. Good night, Sam."

"Good night, Amanda." She was thawing faster than he would have expected, yet he still couldn't trust her. He waited until she went back to the bedroom before closing his eyes, and he still kept the gun under his pillow where she couldn't access it. Through the rest of the night he slept lightly, unable to turn off being on alert.

Everyone except Terri looked as if they'd had a bad night. She glanced at them, perplexed, until Amanda said, "We were up talking with Sam last night. He needs our help, and we're going to do what we can to help him." She glanced at her ex and gave him a thin smile. It wasn't much, but it gave Sam hope. Kurt came out in his uniform and sat at the table.

"How'd you sleep, Sam?"

"Eh, okay."

"Yeah, kinda like Manda and me." He chuckled. "I've gotta go in to the office. While I'm there, I'll see what I can find out. I'll talk to my contacts, see if we can set something up."

"You're certain you can trust these guys?"

"A couple of 'em saved my life once. So yeah, I'd trust them completely."

Sam nodded. "Okay. I guess I'll just have to hang here until you come home. What do you do these days? You don't work on the base, do you?"

"No, I work in a recruiting office in downtown Encino. I help run the MROTC program at the high school. I get to play drill sergeant once a week on those kids." He grinned. "It's a blast."

Sam laughed. "I can imagine."

"The recruiting center is for all the branches, so I can rub elbows with the Navy guys. Don't worry, I'll be careful how I approach them and see what they know. Heck, I'll check 'em all out and see if there's anything on the radar." Kurt finished his breakfast, got up, gave Amanda a kiss and picked up his hat on the way out the door. "See you later, Sam!"

"Yeah." Sam finished his breakfast and worked on another cup of coffee while he watched Amanda straighten up the kitchen.

She felt his eyes on her to the point that it was annoying. She threw the dishrag in the sink and turned. "What is your problem?"

"What?" Sam's eyebrows rose. "I was just watching you. Wondering about... stuff."

"Like what?"

"How did you get along without me?"

"Oh, like without you around I was just so helpless? Please, don't flatter yourself." She turned back to finish wiping down the counter.

Terri sat at the table feeling uncomfortable. "Guys, I'm, uh, gonna go out back." She made a quick exit.

Amanda poured herself another cup of coffee and sat at the table. "I got along just as well as before I met you. I went home for a little while and wondered what it was about me that you had to run off and leave without more than a goodbye note."

"It wasn't you. It was me. Being married... I wasn't ready for it. I mean, I really liked you. I thought I loved you. But when that commitment came down on my shoulders... suddenly, I felt like I had to decide between you and the Navy, and I guess what we had didn't seem as important." His eyes turned to hers and softened. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

She looked at him intently, studying his face, and she reached out and touched the scruff on his cheek. All those years she kept such a trivial thing as the texture of his skin in her memory. It was rougher than she remembered, with scars that weren't there when she knew him. Her fingers ran alongside his head over his ear. "You must be dying your hair."

"Yeah, just trying to erase any distinguishing details."

"This." She touched the scar on his chin.

"That was a particularly brutal battle," he replied. "I prefer to keep it, because it reminds me of the guys who didn't make it home."

She didn't know how to respond. She smiled slightly as she pulled back, and finally, she spoke. "The scruff hides it a bit. But the rough beard makes it more obvious that you're no longer a natural dark brown. You could always stay clean-shaven and just put some concealer on it."

"I never thought I'd get makeup tips from you, Miss Fresh Face."

Amanda's nose crinkled up. "I can't get away with it anymore. I'm old, Sam!"

"But still beautiful."

"You always knew how to charm me." She laughed nervously, but when the sound died, they resorted to staring at each other. "Did you ever think we'd wind up like this, face to face?"

"No," he replied. "Did you?"

Amanda shrugged. "I fantasized about it sometimes, and it usually involved seeing you at the business end of a pistol." Her laughter came out soft and stilted. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I was acting like an idiot, and I am so ashamed of my behavior, because that is so not like me. I've changed, Sam. I'm not the same angry, abandoned woman I was thirty years ago."

"Your heart was broken. I understand that. If I could do anything to make up for it, or undo it, I would. You gotta believe me!"

"I know. I did a lot of praying and confession last night, and that's why my cooler head is sitting here talking to you today." She sipped her coffee. "So, what about you? Is there anyone in your life? I know you said you were pretty much a womanizer in Miami, but, I'm curious." She leaned forward, smiled slyly, and her eyes closed down as she studied him. "Is there anyone who captured your heart?"

"Would it bother you if I said yes?"

"No. I'm a big girl, I can take it."

"Okay, then, yes. Her name is Elsa."

Amanda nodded as she sat back in her seat. "And yet you left her too, for your mission?"

Sam closed his eyes, willing away the burst of outrage that threatened to come up. Taking a breath first, he answered. "No. I was protecting her. You don't know how much I wanted to bring her along with me! But I couldn't risk putting her life in danger! Besides, she's a woman with a high profile business in Miami. If she suddenly disappeared, I'd have to worry about a BOLO out on me for kidnapping. Never mind that it wouldn't be true, but then, apparently the CIA isn't exactly concerned with the truth concerning me and my friends. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

He stared at Amanda as he calmed himself. Her cold coffee seemed to have her attention, but then she raised her head. "I'm sorry, Sam. I wasn't trying to make you angry. I was just curious."

"It's okay. Really." He got up and retreated to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

Amanda watched him leave, feeling like a jerk for provoking him. It should have been sweet revenge, but somewhere between last night and the morning, the taste of it had gone sour in her mouth. He was truly repentant for what he did. It was time to throw away the anger and resentment, to forgive and move on.