Chapter 12
Theresa survived surgery and made it through a day and a night. Amanda, Kurt, and Sam never left the hospital. Sam knew he should have been working on meeting with the people on his list, but he couldn't leave his friend or his ex's sides. He still felt guilty for drawing Warren and his crew to LA. It didn't do any good to tell himself that if he hadn't helped Theresa escape, she would have been dead for sure, killed in New Mexico, alone, without her family ever knowing. It was better that she made it to LA, because when she recovered, she had Amanda's love and support and nothing to fear. Warren was sitting in jail with his buddy, held under huge bonds that neither of them could pay. The other two never made it out of the house alive.
Kurt was allowed three days' leave to be with Amanda and Terri. On the second day, when Sam came back to the room, he stopped him in the door. "We should talk."
"Yeah, sure. The lounge is free." He turned and led him to the empty room. They took a couple of chairs near the window where each man had a good vantage point of the hall and entrance. "What's up, Kurt?"
"I called my neighbor Pat, and he said the house is a mess. The cops still have police tape around it, but the detectives cleared out this morning." Kurt leaned his elbows on his knees and spoke softer. "I think you better go back there, get your stuff, and move out." He quickly put out a hand and placed it on Sam's arm. "Now, I'm not trying to get rid of you, man. I just think it's not safe for you to be there."
"Have you been back to the house at all?"
"Not yet. I was going to run by tonight and pick up some stuff for Manda and me. We can get your truck out of the garage."
"Okay. Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Kurt. You really went above and beyond as it is in helping me."
"Jake..." He looked around before continuing. "Sam, you were always a great friend. The best. When we had that dustup, well, most guys would have been like 'hit the road, dude'. But you never gave up on me." He swallowed. "I wouldn't be where I am today in the Corps if you hadn't knocked some sense into me."
"Oh, sure, blame me that you chose the wrong branch of service." Sam teased, hiding behind the humor to keep from choking up.
Kurt laughed and bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I really wish we had more time to hang out."
"When this is all over and I'm back in Miami, I'll contact you. Then I'll arrange for you guys to fly out and have a great vacation, on me. I'll introduce you to the best mojito this side of Cuba."
"That'll be great. Thanks, buddy."
"You're welcome, Kurt." They stood, shook hands, and went back to the room.
"Jake is leaving, Manda. He's not coming back."
"You're not?" Her eyes flew up to his.
Sam was surprised to see her tearing up, and he realized that he'd completely underestimated her all those years. He thought she would hate him for what he'd done, but after she got over the latent anger, she forgave him. Sam held her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Sorry, Manda. I've gotta keep going."
"I know. Just be careful. I know you want to take care of ending our marriage, but please, don't do it by dying for real. Okay?" She sniffled and ran a hand along his cheek. Then she got up on her toes and kissed where she'd touched him and hugged him one last time. "Good bye, Sam," she whispered. "Love you like a brother."
"Love you, too, Manda," he replied with a smile. "Like a sister." He squeezed her and let her go. He picked up Theresa's hand and held it for a few moments. "Get better, Terri. Your sister needs you." He patted her hand and stepped away from the bed. "Bye, Manda."
He followed Kurt out to the car, got in, and let his friend drive him to the house. Kurt parked on the street and they both stood at the curb, staring at the damage. The stucco siding was filled with dozens of holes from about waist high upward.
"No wonder I didn't get shot until those guys came in," Sam remarked. "Getting on the floor saved my life."
"And our bedroom was toward the back, so the bullets didn't make it to our room." Kurt let the gravity of that fact sink in. "Well, we better get you packed and on the road, huh?"
"I'm going to find a motel to stay in for awhile, at least until I talk to some of my buddies."
Kurt unlocked the front door. "How'll you do that without going into their offices?"
Sam grinned. "I wasn't in intelligence gathering for over a decade for nothing. Don't worry, I'll find out everything about these guys that I can get my hands on and catch 'em where they least expect it."
"Good luck, man. I wish I could have helped you more." He let Sam inside the house and while he picked up his things, Kurt parked the other car on the street and moved Jake's truck to the driveway.
He went to Terri's room to retrieve his gun. He wasn't entirely sure that it would still be there, but it was. He pulled it out from under the bed, stepped around the dried blood on the floor, and wrinkled his nose at the smell. Amanda was going to have a fit when she came home to this! He stuffed the gun into his duffel and picked up the rest of his things from the bathroom.
It pricked Sam's conscience that he had to leave on the fly and not contribute something to getting the household back into order. But Kurt was right. It wasn't safe there anymore. After loading the truck with his bag and the cooler, and saying his goodbyes to Kurt, he got into the truck. The key Amanda took from him was stuck in the ignition. He was glad to get it back. Sam started the truck and backed out of the driveway. He waved to Kurt, and then he turned his truck toward the road that would get him to the freeway. He wasn't familiar with LA, but he'd done enough research to know what part of the city was most advantageous for him to find his targets. He drove to Pasadena where two of the people on his list lived.
Roger Holt was not only at one time a very good friend of Sam's, he was also first on Kurt's short list of people whose names were dropped when he talked to his coworkers at the recruiting center. Roger was freelancing, not attached to any agency or branch of service, but he had clearances that a lot of people could only dream about. Sam wasn't sure, but he believed that Roger worked with the CIA, sort of a contractor like Mike was before he got burned. He would have to be careful around him, even if they were old friends, and Sam knew he had to take a big risk in shedding his alias to speak with him. After he'd spent the night sleeping on it, he decided to just take the chance and approach the guy who had the most potential to help him.
It would take some finesse. He couldn't just bump into him. Sam had to start with the intel he had and tail him for awhile. The next morning, he followed Roger as he went to a coffee shop near his apartment. Then he went to an office building. Sam was glad he brought the cooler along with drinks and snacks, because he spent the entire first day watching that building. Roger went out for lunch, and Sam got out of the truck and tailed him to a cafe. Sam, however, kept walking and found a place where he could be inconspicuous and watch when he came out. Then it was back to the office building until three in the afternoon. Roger drove to a community center and picked up a little girl.
Sam watched from the truck a half block away. She looked so happy to see him, and Roger smiled wide as he crouched and gave her a big hug. Then he kissed her cheek, took her hand, and led her to the car, the little girl's backpack bumping along behind on the pavement. Sam couldn't help but smile at the sight. Roger was about his age, so if this was his daughter, he must have started his family late in life. Grandchild? No, couldn't be. Wonder if he realizes how lucky he is to have a family. The life of an operative doesn't lend itself very well to such things.
Roger drove the little girl to his apartment. Sam parked far enough away to not be seen, and he watched as they entered the building. He gave them a little time, then got out and entered the lobby. He checked the directory, and there were only last names on it. A few had no names at all.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
Jake turned and found a woman standing behind him. "Maybe. Are these units for rent, the ones that don't have names on them?"
"Only those two are vacant. Apartment 305 is occupied."
"You couldn't by any chance tell me who lives there? I know a guy who lives here. His last name is Holt."
"Oh yes, Roger." She smiled, and Jake suspected she had a special attachment to him.
"Yeah, that's him. I'm an old friend of his. He hasn't seen me for about twenty years or so."
"I see. Well, he just went up with his daughter."
Boy, this lady is way too easy! He gave her one of his killer smiles and asked, "Do you think it'd be okay if I just went up, knocked on his door, and surprised him?"
"Hmmm, I don't know. He's kind of funny about unexpected guests." She thought a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. If you'd like, I could take a message and put it under his door, and then if he's willing to see you..."
Jake held up a hand. "No, that's okay. Thanks anyway. I'll, uh, just run into him some other time." He smiled at her and left the building. I almost had her! Almost! As he walked away, he glanced up at the third floor. The little girl he saw with Roger looked out the window, her eyes aimed down at him, and looked away. Would she say something to her father about the stranger on the sidewalk? Or would she not notice that anything was wrong with some old guy standing outside the building? He couldn't be sure. Jack just knew that it wasn't safe to be loitering around. He went back to the truck.
Sleeping in the truck wasn't comfortable, but if he didn't want to miss a chance having a meeting with Roger, he had to stay where he was. He set his watch to wake him up, and shortly after it beeped, he saw Roger drive out of the underground parking garage. Today, the little girl was with him, He drove to the coffee shop, the place where Sam hoped to sit down and talk to him. There was no way he'd go in with the kid present. He waited for the two to finish their breakfast, and then Roger dropped her off at the community center. He gave her another big hug and kiss, watched her trot off to the playground and said hello to a woman who supervised the other kids, and then he got back into his car. Tailing and surveillance were boring, and with Sam itching to talk to Roger, that made it ten times worse. He sighed as he parked near the office building and Roger went inside. Maybe I should just try to get the next guy on the list, Trevor D'Angelo. No, Roger's the guy I have to talk to. I just know he'll give me the best intel. If I can ever get close to him!
When Roger left for lunch, he took a different route than the day before. He walked in the opposite direction, right past Sam's truck. Sam turned enough to make it hard for Roger to identify him, and the ball cap helped. He felt the man's eyes on him, but he didn't dare look up. Instead, he pretended to be looking at a map. After a few seconds, the coast was clear. Roger continued on his way, and Sam got out to follow him.
He watched as Roger turned toward a lot that had been paved with asphalt surrounding a small hut-like building. It was a burger and hot dog joint. Sam got in line a couple people behind Roger and couldn't help but smile. He knew Roger well enough that he could have bet on what he would order.
"Two Chicago dogs, hold the kraut, please."
It was all Sam could do to not give himself away by laughing.
"With a Coke."
His smile widened. In all those years, the guy hadn't changed. Knowing that, he realized that it might not be so difficult to break through any shell he may have built up over the years. Roger turned out of the line with his food and Sam studied the menu board, avoiding Roger's gaze, because he felt the man's eyes on him again. Sam ordered a chili cheese dog with a soda and went in search of his target. Roger sat under an umbrella at a table near the side of the building next door. His eyes were on Sam as he bit into his first hot dog.
Sam smiled at him and approached, and when he was only a few steps away, asked, "Mind if I sit here?"
"Go ahead."
Sam set his lunch on the table and took a seat, all the while knowing that Roger studied him, his mind working, trying to figure out who he was. To help him, he took off his cap and set it beside him on the bench.
"Oh... my... god... Sam. Sam Axe." Roger breathed.
"I think you've got me confused with someone else." Sam lied in order to test him. "The name's Jake Baldwin."
"What happened to Chuck Finley?"
Sam laughed, unsure about how Roger knew his other alias. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'd know that laugh anywhere." Roger said softly as he looked around warily. He fell silent for a few minutes as he casually ate his lunch. Then he leaned in, swallowed a bite, and spoke again. "Sam, it's okay. You and I, we go way back. You can trust me."
Sam furrowed his brow and looked at Roger as if he had no clue what he was talking about.
"Fine. I heard you might be coming around to talk to me, but, well, if you changed your mind or whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm not the one the CIA is after." Roger shrugged.
It was Sam's turn to look around warily, and when he assured himself it was safe to talk, he leaned forward. "Roger, how did you know?"
"I have friends in the agency. I know the CIA is gunning for you, Westen, Glenanne, and Porter. But I also have it on good authority that there are others within the agency who believe that you all did the right thing. Fullerton was no good, Sam."
"So, what are you saying, Roger?"
"I'm saying that I'm on your side." The corner of Roger's mouth twitched into a penitent smile. "I was approached by Anson a few months ago."
"No, wait, how many months exactly?" Sam tried to keep his voice down. "We took him down almost four, four and a half months ago."
Roger thought for a few seconds, staring up at the underside of the umbrella, his lips moving silently. Then he brought his gaze back to Sam. "Nope, I'm positive, it was a couple months ago. I don't know what you guys thought you did, but he was alive as sure as you're sitting there."
"You actually saw him." Sam's face paled.
"Yeah. He came out west here trying to round up a new bunch of spies. He's looking for self-contractors now, apparently. People with clearances who can get into the CIA files and really mess around." He shook his head. "I told him I wasn't interested."
"And you're trying to tell me that he just said 'okay' and left you alone?" Sam shook his head in disbelief. "No way. That's not how he works."
"He threatened me and my daughter. But I got her out of town for about a month, and by that time, he tired of trying to play me and moved on. Last I heard he was in San Francisco."
"You heard. From whom?"
"Tricia Fox. Remember her?"
"Yeah, we used to call her Roxy Foxy. She was in communications."
Roger nodded. "Yeah, and she's got herself a nice little comm company set up in Frisco. There's no way she's gonna join with Anson!"
"I still can't believe that he's alive! I saw him die right in front of me!"
"That guy is slippery, Sam. The snakes have nothing on him."
Sam snorted. "You're tellin' me!"
"Are you going after him, to take him down once and for all?"
"If that's what I have to do. But I'd rather clear my name, and Mike, Fi, and Jesse's too, before I do anything to him."
"You can't do it alone."
Sam nodded. "I know. But unfortunately, we all split up, and now I am on my own. And I'm not gonna ask you to get into the middle of my battle. You've got a wife and kid to worry about."
"My wife died last spring."
"Oh." Sam sat up a little straighter. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thanks. It was a car accident, and Selah was in the car with her. She almost died." Roger looked up from the remnants of his lunch. "I don't believe that it was an accident. I think Anson was trying to eliminate them and set it up so I'd use my anger at losing them and work with him."
"So he approached you last year already?"
"One of his associates did. Sam, like Westen, I was working for the CIA. Then I got burned, but I managed to prove my innocence and they let me back in. Anson's friend tried really hard to not let that happen, and Marie and Selah's accident was the icing on the cake."
"That son of a..." Sam muttered. "But Selah's okay now. She needs her daddy." He shook his head. "No, I can't ask you to get involved."
"I already am, buddy. I can send Selah up to Washington to visit her granny for awhile. She'll be safe in Seattle. Anson probably knows about her, but she lives in a high security building."
"With Anson, I wouldn't count on that being a deterrent if he wants to get her."
"It's enough." Roger looked deep into Sam's eyes. "I want this guy. He's responsible for my wife's death. I'm certain of it. Every day he walks the earth is one more day I wish I could be going after him."
Sam let out a long breath. "Roger."
"Sam. Please."
He looked at his friend sitting in his designer suit with a ketchup stain on his silk shirt. The look on Roger's face told him that he wouldn't sit quietly while Sam ran off to find Anson. He was right, Sam needed help. If only he could contact Mike and Fi.
"Okay. I need your help with something."
"What is it? Anything!"
"I need to find Mike and Fi. They're going by the names Sean and Shannon McKellar." He felt his instincts kicking in, scolding him for revealing his friends' cover ID. But he was to the point where he had no choice but to trust Roger. "The trick is, they're using cash for everything, so there's no paper trail. Maybe a motel register signature can tell us where they stayed, but we could be looking forever trying to get that information. Besides, the last I heard they were going to Iowa."
"What, does Westen wanna learn how to be a corn farmer?" Roger chuckled.
Sam pictured Mike in worn overalls and a well-worn straw hat on his head, driving a tractor. He replied with a smile, "I don't think so. I just know he said he had a tip on a job and that's where he was going." He sighed. "They could be anywhere by now."
"I can do some searches on their names, see if I come up with anything. You done?" He pointed at Sam's half eaten hot dog.
"Done enough. Why?"
"Let's go back to my office and we'll do some digging." Roger smiled. "I'll let you borrow my clearances, and you can see what's cookin' over at the CIA."
Sam grinned. "That's the best offer I've had in months! Thanks, Rog!"