Chapter 17
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Fiona pulled away from him and held his arms. "There's something you're not telling me." He looked down, but she tilted her head to look up in his face.
"I saw Anson today," Michael said. "He was getting on an elevator at the FBI building."
"Did he see you?"
"No, but a minute earlier he would have."
"I thought he was on a terrorist watch list."
"There are almost 800,000 people on the consolidated list, and he wasn't buying a ticket or boarding a plane."
"He should be on a most wanted list. "
"Yeah."
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They had taken showers and changed for the meeting with Raines and were on their way out the door when Fiona's oversized shoulder bag bumped the pile of mail Michael had left on the counter. It scattered all over the floor.
"What is this?" she wondered.
"The owner's mail that was crammed in the mailbox. We can take it to her sister tomorrow."
They both stopped and leaned down to scoop up the envelopes and catalogs, but the handwritten note on the bright yellow paper blinked like a neon light. It wasn't in an envelope, simply folded in half with thick black printing inside. She opened it, read it then handed it to Michael.
Hope you enjoy your new home. AF
Her eyes met his angry blue gaze.
"He warned me about this. He said if he knew where we were now, Anson did, too. He's . . ."
"Crazy, Michael. Crazy." She didn't know what she'd have to do or say so that Michael could understand that Anson had crossed a bridge and burned sanity behind himself.
"Dangerous." Michael corrected softly, as he held open the door, locked it then used the remote to set the alarm. "But so are we."
As they walked across the yard, they looked at the garage and then each other. "Better be safe," Michael said.
He reached for a flashlight mounted to a charger unit on the wall and they both did a thorough under the car before they used the remote entry key to release the hood latch and check the engine compartment and trunk areas.
"We need to get another one of those alarms from Jesse," Fiona said. "I hope he's got a box of them."
Their 20 minute ride passed in silence. Fiona reached over and laid a hand on Michael's leg, as if to reassure herself his presence was solid. After he parked the car she turned to look at him. "You're brooding again."
"Working a problem."
"I can see that. It's the same problem you were brooding about earlier. The more I think about it . . . I think we need to find a way to work with him without endangering him."
Michael reached for her hand. "I understand what he's been doing, Fi. It's a variation of what Victor did. Of what I tried and failed to do."
"You need to tell Raines."
He nodded in agreement.
As they left the car, they joined hands to walk the distance to the hotel entrance, allowing the weight of this new and awful knowledge of their hidden protector, a man whom no one protected, to slow their steps and burden them. When they reached the hotel entrance, they paused and turned to look back as the sun cast long shadows across the concrete and stone entrance. The lights inside the pool of the graceful exterior fountain blinked on, the mechanical hush of moving water soothing the city sounds of night coming to life.
Beyond the lights, there were too many dangerous things coming alive. Fi looked up to Michael. "We won't let him win."
"We can't." He looked down at her. "We won't."
As they entered the hotel, they both sensed they were being watched, and their alertness levels surged as they waited by the elevators.
When Raines' wife opened the door, Michael smiled. "That nap agreed with you."
"It did. Come in. I hope you don't mind, but I thought I'd make this a working dinner. You haven't eaten, have you?"
They both smiled and indicated no.
"The room's plum full of audio jammers, Michael. All is well." She winked, accurately answering the question he didn't ask.
"Good to know."
As they stepped into the living area, the balcony doors were open with a table for four sitting in front, as the room was filled with the lovely, humid breeze that bore a generous scent of ocean air.
"This is pleasant," Fiona said to Raines' wife.
"It is. I love London, but I have to say I could be enticed to live here with very little effort," she said as Raines joined them with an open bottle.
"The boys would agree with you. All they do is complain about cold and grey." He handed everyone a glass and read the label on the bottle. "It's a fusion with the Lodi appellation," he said. "It should be quite good."
The toast came from Raines wife. "The very first order of business is to say congratulations, Michael and Fiona, for your marriage. We wish you a lifetime of happiness."
Michael and Fiona glanced at each other and smiled and said "thank you," but Raines seemed confused. His wife laughed. "It's not like he was hiding his wedding ring."
Raines glanced at Fiona and then his wife before looking at Michael. "Yes, congratulations."
"Has anyone else noticed?" Raines' wife asked, plainly amused by her husband's fumbling response.
"Pearce," Michael answered.
She laughed again. "Of course she did."
As four glasses touched each other with crystal chimes, their meal arrived at the door, ushered in on twin carts. The food was quite good, and the conversation hovered quietly around small, safe subjects and stories of the Raines' sons. Unspoken was the knowledge that Michael's report to Raines would begin after the meal.
When the time came for that, Michael sought assurance the audio jammers were working properly. Raines' wife was about to leave, but Fiona put a gentle hand on her arm. "Please, stay. You'll want to hear this, too."
Fiona watched their host and hostess share a glance, and then watched expressions change on their faces as Michael told them what he'd learned when he talked to Raines' former partner and his wife's former fiancé earlier in the day.
"He told me if I showed up at his office again, he'd have me arrested," Michael said, concluding his report. "And I believe him. I don't want to put him in harm's way more than he is, but we need his help."
Raines and his wife had sat silently listening to Michael tell them something opposite of what they had long believed of the man who was nothing more than an angry, annoying, festering thorn from their past. Instead, he was man who had been protecting them and their sons for the past decade. They exchanged a long glance.
It was clearly an overwhelming piece of information.
"I know you need time to think about this," Michael said.
Raines nodded and looked at his wife.
"And I want to bring Sam, Jesse and Pearce, if she's well enough, into this conversation. We were headed the right direction, working on the money and arms. But I really think we need his help," Michael said quietly. "Raines, do you think you can come up with a way to make contact him, and arrange a meeting?"
"I'll figure something out."
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When they arrived at the hospital they heard the sound of Sam's laughter as they walked toward Pearce's room.
"Swear to God, she used a rubber bullet put that guy on his knees, otherwise Jess and I'd be dead. I've never seen a guy that big."
"He was, too," Jesse agreed. "Gi-normus. Picked me up and threw me like I was a ragdoll."
Pearce was laughing, and holding her shoulder with her arm that was not in a sling, while Sam and Jesse regaled her with a Fiona story about one of their relatively recent operations.
Sam looked up as Michael and Fiona walked in the room. "Hey, the gang's all here. What have you two been doing? Oops not supposed to ask newlyweds that, huh?"
When Fiona actually blushed at that remark, Sam whistled low, then grinned. "Whoa there. That's something new. Congratulations, you two. Tell your ma yet, Mikey?"
"Yeah, congratulations," Jesse said. "Pearce told us you both finally took my advice. Glad to hear it."
"Thanks," Michael said. "And, no, Sam, we haven't told my mom."
"Yeah, she's still pretty irritated that you've got her in protective custody."
"Is that what she's calling it?"
Sam grinned. "Yup. She found a pay phone somewhere and called me today."
Michael closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's just great."
"Well, you wouldn't take her calls."
"I say you should save that bit of good news for when you need it," Jesse advised. "Which might be soon."
Michael held up a finger. He needed to change the subject. "You guys, we need to meet, and I hope Pearce can be there."
"They won't tell me when I can get out," she said. "But I'm hoping the doctor will let me out tomorrow sometime."
"That soon? Are you sure? You're reminding me of Michael, now," Fi said.
"Really, I'm sure. I'd much rather be out of here than stuck here," Dani said.
"Sure," Jesse said. "My office? Want to wait until they release Pearce?"
"That would be fine. Call us, OK?"
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They were only a few miles away from their house when two fire trucks raced past them. When a third nearly ran them off the street, Michael and Fiona looked at each other and Michael stepped on the gas to follow.
The closer they got to home, they could smell it.
And see it.
The lovely house, their new home, was engulfed in fire.
The night dark sky was lit by the inferno of fierce red orange flames against a golden backdrop. Thick smoke bellowed from the windows. Trucks, hoses, firemen shouting and police barricades kept onlookers away. They left Fi's car parked next to a police cruiser, locked it and walked until they were two houses away from the devastating scene.
"You, there, stay back!" the police officer ordered as they approached.
"That's our house," Michael said.
"No, it isn't," he said, pointing over his shoulder. "It's hers."
Michael turned to look. "We're leasing it from her. What happened?"
"Gas line explosion. Did you leave a burner on?"
"We just moved in. We haven't used the stove yet," Fiona said.
They walked over and joined the real estate agent whose sister owned the lovely house they had just leased. "I tried calling you, but I must have a wrong number," she said looking at her phone screen and then Michael. "I'm so glad you weren't inside. This is just terrible! Did you move your furniture in yet?"
"Just a few things," Michael said, looking at Fiona. This was no accident and they both knew it. They assured her they hadn't had a chance to use the stove yet, so they couldn't fathom how a gas leak would have occurred. The neighbors reported hearing an explosion prior to the fire.
They stayed and watched firefighters spray down the house as well as neighboring houses on both sides. They stayed to watch for a half hour before deciding there was nothing else they could do. Michael wrote a number down on a piece of paper and gave it to the realtor. "That's my mother's number. She's out of town but we're watching her house. She's got an answering machine, so if you need to get in touch, call that number."
Unspoken was the decision to return to the loft. They made the trip with the windows in Fiona's car rolled down because the acrid scent of smoke had adhered to their clothing and hair, leaving a greasy film on everything they wore as well as their skin.
Climbing the steps, Michael discovered he now possessed newly mixed emotions about his loft. He'd seen it shortly after the Sam and his mom cleaned up after the FBI surveillance group had invaded his private area, and he'd been working with Jesse and Sam and Pearce from the loft for weeks.
Now, what he saw were snow globes.
And he was glad for that one thing. Fi's snow globes were still here, intact, instead of being destroyed in a fire.
As he flipped on the lights, he realized Fi had not been here since the day she had left to turn herself in to the FBI. Months ago, a life time ago.
He looked around and debated, seeing things he'd shoved away.
Fiona had been over there because he'd handcuffed her to that wire wall. She was screaming his name. He closed his eyes as if in pain from the memory.
Anson slithered in over there, giddy with what he'd recorded them saying to each other, their private conversation, now recorded. He'd been so happy to spin his poison around them. And over there, was where he found Sam after Fi left. And there, where Sam stood telling Anson not to touch his beer.
When he was working, and it had been just him, Sam, Jesse and Pearce, it was different. But now, with Fi here . . . there were too many burdensome memories. He couldn't stay here tonight. He couldn't go back in time, not tonight.
Fiona was his wife now. Everything had changed. The loss of their private place, a place of serenity without harsh words, was nearly overwhelming to him in this moment.
He didn't realize Fiona had been watching him with much concern until he looked up and saw her standing next to the bed that was as barren of sheets as it'd been the day he'd rented the loft from Oleg. There was a deeply concerned expression on her face.
He met her gaze and spoke softly. "Fi . . . I don't want to remember what's happened here. Can we clean up and go stay at my Mom's house or someplace else tonight? Would that be okay with you?"
"Of course. I can feel . . . it, too."
"Then you go first and take your shower, and I'll call Jesse. I don't know who has the remote for the alarm he put on Mom's house."
But when he opened his phone to call Jesse he could see he had a message. "How did you like my wedding gift? AF"
He held the phone open and stared at the message.
Fiona was absolutely taken back by the change she saw washing over Michael. She closed the distance between them to put her hand on his arm, an arm that felt as if muscle, bone and flesh had turned into steel. His jaw tightened and squared; she could see the small muscles in his cheek working. She slid her fingers up against his palm to loosen the hold he had on the phone, to read the message that had brought about such change.
"He's crazy, Michael."
He looked down into her eyes. "He's dangerous, Fi. But, so am I. So are we."
While Fiona took her shower, Michael retrieved a cell phone from under the counter and left the phone Anson used to leave his message on the counter. If Anson wanted to track his whereabouts by the phone he so obviously had linked, he'd find it at the loft. Tomorrow, he'd turn it over to CIA techs to see what they could find.
He knew there were at least three more handguns the FBI had missed during their sweep of the loft, so he gathered those up, before he began packing some of his clothing.
The smoke infused garments he and Fiona wore would stay in the loft with the phones Anson had tracked.
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In the end, Michael and Fiona decided on the same hotel where Raines and his wife were staying until they could locate a place to live that suited them better.
If Anson had invaded one house, chances that he'd been to his mother's house were high.
While Fi packed her things, he called Jesse and Sam and told them about the house explosion and fire and about the message Anson left on his phone. He warned them to stay alert. Jesse was in the hospital with Pearce, and didn't plan on leaving. Then, he'd called Raines and explained the situation to him.
But he and Fi needed to rest and they needed privacy. Michael had developed an overpowering need for personal privacy and peace. It had become stronger than any other consideration. So when Raines suggested the hotel, it was an easy temporary solution.
And Fiona liked the bathroom so well that she'd chosen a much longer and far more luxurious bath than the shower the loft offered.
There was a television in the room but instead of turning it on Michael sat on the couch, his feet on the low table as he stared ahead and mentally organized his battle plan.