A/N: Here is the penultimate chapter of Behind Blue Eyes, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for all the reviews, favs and alerts each one is greatly appreciated. A special thanks goes out to my good friend Jedi Skysinger for her help, and finding time to Beta for me.
BEHIND BLUE EYES
Part Seven
Bring me to Life
It took up valuable time and brought Fiona's stress levels up close to boiling point, but the Irishwoman eventually spotted an empty parking place and brought her borrowed ride to a stop across the street from what had once been the headquarters of the Miami Chronicle. Staring at the massive structure, her heart sunk as she took in the enormity of the task ahead of her.
"What are you playing at, Michael?" The redhead wondered out loud. Searching that entire building was going to be impossible in under a week and that was without knowing for sure if the troubled spy was even inside. And even if he was, what if he didn't want to be found?
Pursing her lips, she continued to scan the front of the structure, refusing to be beaten by what amounted to bricks and mortar. She knew Michael, knew how he worked. He would never go in through the front door. No, Mr. Westen would look for a vulnerable back door. She thought about the bag of supplies she had left on the back seat of the pick-up and a small smile lightened her expression. Or maybe he made a doorway of his own.
Putting the car in drive, the Irishwoman went to pull back out into the chaos that was the early morning traffic in the business district of Miami. Then after a moment, she sighed and switched the engine off and climbed out of the luxury vehicle. At this time of day, it would be quicker to scout the perimeter on foot.
Once across the busy street, it took the redhead no time at all to find a gap in the badly maintained chain link fence surrounding the derelict building and begin her search for the entry point she was sure she would find.
And there it was. In less than five minutes, she had discovered a man-size hole blasted in the wall, partially hidden by a row of battered looking dumpsters. Stroking her fingertips over the roughened edges of the newly formed doorway, the explosive expert felt the heat still retained in the bricks. The fugitive spy was maybe twenty minutes ahead of her. Peering cautiously inside, the Irishwoman tiptoed over the rubble and, with her handgun leading the way, entered the building.
It was deathly quiet. Any hope that the large empty building would help her by causing any small sounds made by her errant former lover to echo down to her faded as she finished a rather cursory search of the lobby.
As she checked out the decommissioned booby traps attached to the front doors, Fiona reached for her phone to update the rest of the team.
"Hey, Fi. Any n-" Sam answered the call, but she had no time to pass pleasantries with the older man.
"Forget about Max... I'm inside the Chronicle. Michael's here. I've just got to find him."
"No, Fi wait, we're nearly there. Wait for us."
"There's no time."
"Damn it, Tinkerbell, just for once -"
"I've no time fer yar fussin', Sam, just get har!" She ended the call abruptly and began her search in earnest.
()()()()()
Sam stared at his phone before angrily throwing it onto the dashboard. "We need to get there ten minutes ago."
"I'm doin' the best I can, man...Hey…" his younger companion gestured with a lift of his chin as they came to a halt at yet another set of traffic lights. "That's it, isn't it? That big ass place with the dish on top?"
"Yeah, we're getting close, but not - Hey, what're you doin'?" The last part came as Mr. Porter suddenly forced the minivan into the dense line of traffic at their side and then onto a narrow side street.
"The only way we're gonna get there before Fi finds Mike and tears him a new one is if we go the rest of the way on foot... You got your running shoes on, Sam?"
"Seems to be all I wear these days." The older man sighed deeply and then with a groan reached for the bag holding their meager supply of weapons.
Using the large satellite dish as a visual guide, the pair ran along the back streets, cutting down alleyways and over fences in an effort to take the most direct route to their target. It was when they passed by the pick-up truck Michael and Fiona had been using for their part in the now aborted take down of James' communication expert that both men increased their speed even further; they were definitely at the right place.
"So, how long has it been?" Jesse panted when they reached the chain link fence marking the perimeter.
"Since Fi called? Maybe ten, fifteen minutes... There's no way she'd have found him yet. Not with the way our luck is going."
"Okay, let's do this." The taller man held open the broken piece of fence. "Find Fi, find Mike, grab the evidence we need and hand it over to the CIA guy who hates us... Couldn't be simpler, huh?"
"Well, when you put it like that…" Sam grinned at his younger friend. "Easy peasy."
Five minutes later, the duo were lying flat on the ground, hoping that the guys in the three large black SUVs pulling up in front of the building hadn't spotted them.
"We're too late," Jesse groaned.
"Nope, I'd say we're just in time," Mr. Axe corrected. "As long as they don't spot us, we can back up Mike's play."
"And if his play is to rejoin James' merry little band?"
"Mike is past all that... He's got his head on straight." Sam didn't want to think about his best friend turning his back on them all a second time. His heart couldn't take that level of betrayal. Not after all they had been through. "This is some damn crazy Hail Mary play, you wait and see."
()()()()()
With the ground floor cleared and Fiona now carrying a small supply of RDX rigged with hastily made detonators harvested from James' booby traps, the Irishwoman moved on to check out the first floor in her effort to track down her man.
She was half way up the escalator when she heard several loud clunks, which sounded very much like car doors being slammed shut. Pausing, several scenarios ran quickly through her head: It was too many car doors closing for it to be Sam and Jesse. Besides they wouldn't have boldly driven right up to the doors. Strong and the CIA? Michael wouldn't have called them yet, unless he had found what he was looking for, and if he had found the information he wanted, he would have been in plain sight waiting to hand it over. That only left James Kendrick...
The Irishwoman paled and sprinted the rest of the way up the metal staircase, making it out of sight just in time as the doors opened and there was a rush of booted feet entering the lobby below where she stood. Looking around, she ran soundlessly across the open space scattered with broken and abandoned furniture and crept into one of the three empty offices at the far end of the room.
Flattening her body against the wall, she turned her head to the side so she could hear what was happening outside. In her hand she held her gun, her finger inside the trigger guard ready to fire. If they discovered her, there was no way she would leave this world quietly – or alone.
()()()()()
Outside Sam and Jesse could only watch helplessly as James Kendrick appeared from the middle vehicle in the convoy and waited as his men spread out, the main body of his team unlocking and going through the front doors, while two teams of two separated to flank the building.
"So, what's the play here, Sammy?" Jesse asked.
"We gotta get rid of those guys outside," came the grim reply. "Any ideas?"
"We could split up, two against one... You think you're up to simultaneously taking down two trained guys wearing body armor, and carrying radios?"
The former navy commander didn't deign to answer the ex-CIFA agent's question. Instead he went back to studying the lay out of the building and thinking back to the spy he knew like a brother.
"The north side of the building is exposed to the road and the east side looks straight out over the water. So, let's go after the team covering the south-west quadrant. I guarantee, we take them out and we'll find out where Mike got inside. Then it will just be a case of getting behind the psychopath with an army at his beck and call."
"O-kay then, let's get moving." Jesse was half way up when he felt a hand grab his belt and pull him back down. "Sam?"
"On second thoughts," the older man spoke slowly. "I think one of us should be able to sneak inside, while the other one heads back to the bayou to watch over Maddy and Charlie. If James gets away, he's going to….."
Jesse swallowed thickly. His friend didn't have to finish the sentence. "You should go... I'm more stealthy..."
Sam shook his head at the younger man's words. "Mike's my friend, my best friend."
"Well, we have a problem then." his shaven headed companion sighed. "Cuz, I'm not gonna be the one who goes back to Maddy and tells her I left her only son hanging." He pointed to the doors James' men had just gone through. "Now we can lie here and discuss whose goin' where or we can both go kick some bad guys butts... You chose."
()()()()()
"Ya broke muh heart, Michael. Ah was gonna give ya everything, give muh life's work to ya and this is how ya repay me? Turning on us like a lowly serpent?"
The spy's hand shook as he reached out for the door handle and, just for a second, he paused letting his eyes slide close. The softly spoken accusation set his mind afire again. The man waiting for him on the other side of the door had ripped away the blindfold which had been shielding him from the reality of his life. Showing him the truth, that what he had held as sacrosanct was nothing but a lie.
The CIA had threatened his friends, ordered him to do whatever he had to for the mission: kill a child, assassinate a friend. They had forced him to drag his friends into a mission they should have had no part in and put his family in danger.
"When I gave you this assignment, I said I needed the Michael Westen who is willing to do what?"
"Whatever it takes."
"Well, this is what it takes."
He had done it all and for what?
"They got me out of the box almost as soon as you put me in it."
The CIA had freed Simon Escher... They had freed a monster and, in doing so, they had done something not even Management and Anson would have done. Then they had put that monster in charge of a team.
"They'll probably pin a medal on my chest for this."
And if the CIA would do that, how was James' organization any more heinous than that?
"Quit tryin' to hide, Michael, and come out. I want to know why, why you turned Sonya, my Sonya, over to the CIA?" A living monster's voice drowned out the mocking tones of the far worse monster freed by the so-called good guys.
His Sonya- his second in command who ordered the deaths of innocent people to protect James.
He had killed Roger on this man's order. He had slain a friend to protect his cover, to protect the lives of the people he loved, for his family... Who had turned their backs on him, who had moved on with their lives while he had been forced to do this man's bidding for the CIA, to work for people who had no honor in order to protect his family... And now he had lost his chance to run that massive organization, where he could have righted wrongs. He could have done the things he wanted, the way he wanted, never again to be someone's pawn... But he had thrown it all away.....
No, his friends had taken it away from him.
He'd wanted to leave them behind to keep them safe, but he had been the one to keep dragging them back into his life, when he should have never used them. If he hadn't involved them, none of this would have ever happened. He should have been handing James over to the CIA right now, except...
For a spy, loyalty is a strange thing. You job is to deceive, to live among your enemies to perform dark deeds for a noble purpose. And it's that purpose that guides you through the darkness. When you lose sight of that, the darkness is all there is.
Except what would have happened then?
Serbia and Bosnia...they had lived amongst murderers and those who did far worse. He and Larry had witnessed true evil and done nothing to save the victims because their mission was far too important to be allowed to fail. Years later, in Chechnya, a whole family killed in cold blood and the evidence of the crime destroyed. He had actually been given a medal for that, a medal for standing back and - and then - and then Vedona, where he had been the one doing the killing. All those people trapped in an inferno he had caused; all these years later, he still woke up in the dead of night by the screams of his victims.
Michael gasped and opened his eyes, he couldn't do this any longer; it was too painful. The clarity of purpose which had allowed him to do so many bad things because he believed what he was doing was for a greater good was gone. Now everything was chaos, as his mind spun in endless circles of recrimination and regret, the lure of James' vision and the horror of it clashing together.
()
How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?
Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb
()
He'd tried to do it without them... without her for almost a year and he just couldn't. He'd surely proven that. Only he had run away from them, away from the only people who could have truly helped him. His friends ...his Fiona...wasn't there to bring him back to the light this time.
()
Without a soul, my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
()
And now it was too late for anyone to help him. He'd run away from her for the last time...
He felt sick, sick to his stomach. He couldn't continue, not like this.
Now, there was only the darkness.
Lifting a shaky hand, the tormented spy swiped it across his eyes, pushing all the emotional turmoil back down. All he had to do was step through the door and it would all be over.
Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
Call my name and save me from the dark
()()()()()
"Knock, knock, Michael, I know you're here. Why don't ya just come out an' meet me like a man?" Fiona froze, at the sound of the educated southern drawl.
James Kendrick was right there, only inches away from her. The Irishwoman fought the urge to step out from her hiding place and confront the bastard who had done so much damage to the man she loved.
"Ya broke muh heart, Michael. Ah was gonna give ya everything, give muh life's work to ya and this is how ya repay me? Turning upon us all like a lowly serpent."
Where was Michael? What was his game? The petite redhead tightened her grip on her handgun, running her tongue over her lips she steadied her nerves as she waited for the action to start.
"Quit tryin' to hide, Michael. I want to know why, why you turned Sonya – my Sonya – over to the CIA?"
Slowly, Fiona reached out, her free hand curling around the door handle. She had to know what was happening on the other side of the door. Why wasn't Michael answering his former – who was James to the fallen spy… his commander or his target?
"James, tell your men to back off. I'm coming out."
It was lucky Fiona had nerves made of steel. Because the last thing she had expected was that she had been so close to her quarry all this time. Just not close enough, she added sadly.
"Ya don' get to give orders, not any more. Ya threw that chance away when you turned your back on us all," the tall dark Southerner replied coldly.
The click of a door opening set off a chain reaction of movement, as the men backing James Kendrick's play brought their weapons up and prepared to open fire. Taking the risk that Michael's appearance would hold the attention of the men outside, the Irishwoman took the opportunity to open the door to her hiding place and finally get a glimpse at the drama taking place before her.
"I'm alone, James. There's no need for this. I give up. Just let my friends live and I'll tell you everything."
Unbidden moisture welled up in her eyes. The man standing just out of her reach sounded so beaten. His voice so low and soft, she had barely caught his words. She saw the slump to his shoulders and noticed the gun in his hand hanging down at his side, his finger already on the trigger, and her heart shattered as her worst fears were realized.
Hurriedly the heartbroken Irishwoman thrust her gun into the back of the waistband of her pants and then pulled out one of the small pieces of RDX she had taken from by the front doors. Keeping a close eye on the events unfolding before her, Fiona prepared to stop Michael Westen from making the biggest and most final mistake of his life.
She was going to save his ass whether he wanted it saved or not.
(Wake me up)
Bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up)
Before I come undone
(Save me)
Save me from the nothing I've become
()()()()()
"Oh, and the hits just keep coming. How many more folks do you think Mike's invited to this party?"
Sam Axe looked up from where he was securing the second of the two man team they had managed to take down with a mixture of stealth and the stocks of the shotguns they were carrying.
"Care to elaborate there, Jess?" the older man asked as he slapped a strip of duct tape over the mouth of the man he had just finished tying up.
"Strong, and about six guys, making their way across the parking lot…"
The ex-SEAL was on his feet in an instance. Joining his friend, the former commander grimaced at the scene before him.
"Dammit, Mikey," Sam growled softly. Then he gestured with a lift of his chin in the direction of the seven men dressed in civilian attire underneath government-issue bullet proof vests. "We've gotta stop that idiot before he gets him and his men killed."
"You think Mikey is setting Strong up?"
"I think Mike set himself up as bait and he's gonna let Strong and James fight it out."
Jesse pursed his lips as the CIA team reached the side of the building. "Strong is gonna get his ass handed to him if that's his whole team."
"Well, I guess we better help him out then," Sam sighed unhappily.
"You want to help the CIA? You do remember they're the guys who want to throw us all in a deep dark hole?"
"Yeah, I do. But, we don't have a choice, brother. Those men with Strong, they probably don't even know half the stuff he's done and he's gonna get 'em killed. Besides, in my book, James is still the bad guy, so that hasn't changed."
"Okay then, we'd best get moving though. The fool is leading his team straight towards the front door."
()()()()()
"I'm alone, James." Michael stepped calmly into the open. "There's no need for this. I give up. Just let my friends live and I'll tell you everything."
All his fears were gone. A strange peacefulness was settling over his troubled mind. He had felt the same way when Sonya had held a gun to his head after he had confessed to James that he was the spy sent to destroy the other man's organization.
"Oh, I guarantee you're going to talk, Michael, and then you're going to die for what ya did to Sonya... That was you," the tall southerner paused as he raked his former subordinate with his eyes. "Or was it your friends?"
"I didn't -" He stopped the words which would have sealed his friends' fate. He wanted all of James' attention focused on him. Swallowing, Michael looked the other man in the eyes. "This is between you and me. Promise me you'll leave my friends and family out of it and I'll come quietly."
He had no expectations of surviving this final encounter. All he could hope for now was if he was gone and James was dead, the CIA would have no reason to hurt the people he loved. He just wished Strong had had the nerve to make an appearance. But whatever happened, he had the satisfaction of knowing his former case officer was out of a job.
"Michael, drop the gun or I will shoot you down like the dog ya are."
"I don't think you will... You wanted to talk, we can still talk, James."
James stared at him. It was as if the older man was reading his mind. "Ya can't win. Ya have no more moves left, Michael. Surrender and I will make it quick... which is more than ya deserve."
It was time to make his peace. Michael sighed softly. It was time to end it all, as his hand began to rise and, in his last few moments, he thought about his lost chances.
He should have stayed in Ireland. He should have told Tom Card to go to hell and Liam Glenanne that he was willing to commit completely to his little sister. Having failed to do that, he knew that at any time during the first few years they had together in Miami, he could have ask Fiona to run away with him and she would have done it, damn the consequences.
His finger tightened on the trigger and he watched, as if in slow motion, James take half a step back while his men moved to cover their leader. And the dark haired spy half smiled. He had never got to thank his friends for saving his soul.
He must have been hit. He felt no pain, but he was falling down.
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
()()()()()
Fiona was close enough to hear Michael softly exhale, her eyes going wide as he began to raise his gun and she reacted instantly. There was no more time. She had complete faith that if Sam and Jesse had made it in time, they would be doing their best to back whatever she did to put a stop to James and his men killing their friend.
Without a thought for her own safety, the Irishwoman launched herself forward, throwing the small cube of RDX straight at the leader of the rogue organization. As soon as the explosive left her hand, she caught hold of the back of Michael's T-shirt and dragged him to the floor as the blast ripped through the open plan office.
"F-Fi?" Michael coughed and gasped as the smoke began to clear. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"Where else should I be?" she answered him with a smile. But her eyes were on the men struggling to their feet, among them James Kendrick, his shaggy mane of dark hair plastered against the side of his face as blood streamed out of a deep head wound.
But before she could respond to the threat, another enemy intervened.
()
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
Call my name and save me from the dark
(Wake me up)
Bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up)
Before I come undone
(Save me)
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life
(I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside)
Bring me to life
()()()()()
"Well, they're coming." Jesse altered his grip on his shotgun in an effort to look less threatening as the small team of CIA operatives changed direction and began to jog towards them.
"Let me do the talking." Sam stepped in front of his friend.
"You sure, buddy? Cuz if you remember -" The younger man was thinking back to his older team mate's reaction to Strong defending the use of Simon, by denouncing Michael as a monster no different to Escher.
"If you're about to remind me how this sonuvabitch freed Simon and put him in charge of a team during a half assed extraction, I've forgotten all about it," the former navy man informed his accomplice.
"Uh-huh, and here I thought you might be still holding a grudge."
The older man plastered a welcoming smile on his face and pointed to the two prone bodies at their feet. "Hey, Strong, about time you turned up. We've been doing your job for you... Is this the whole of your team?"
The disgraced agent ignored the other man's words. Instead he looked confused at the appearance of the two men. "What are you doing here? Michael said he was doing this alone."
"You musta misheard him. We're here, aren't we?" Sam answered evasively.
"Well, stay out of the way. We've got this." He gestured to his team. "One of you stay here and make sure, these men don't interfere -"
"Hey, before you go off half-cocked, buddy, and get these guys killed, James is inside with at least fifteen men. You need our help." Sam aggressively closed in on the man whose impatience and incompetence had led to the whole situation they were in now, only stopping when he felt Jesse's hand on his arm.
"There's no time for this. We -" A loud boom and the shattering of glass stopped Jesse from completing his sentence.
"We have to get inside now." For all his faults, Strong immediately ordered his men towards the front doors.
()()()()()
Fiona was positive she was seeing her last moments, when from out of nowhere a loud voice rang out.
"James Kendrick! You are surrounded." She never thought she'd be happy to hear that man's voice. But right then, she could have kissed him.
James' men, the ones who were still standing, were disorientated and still in shock from the unexpected blast. But at Strong's loud declaration, the experienced soldiers rallied and shots began to rain down on the CIA team coming up the stationary escalators.
Fiona pressed her petite frame down on top of her former lover. "Stay down, I've got this... I've got you." She wasn't taking any more chances on his mental state. From now on, she was going to make damn sure the troubled spy did as he was told.
Reaching into her pocket, the redhead pulled out another small piece of explosive. RDX produced a far deadlier blast than her usual C4 or the Semtex of her youth and, under normal circumstances, she would never risk using it in such close conditions. But this was about as far from normal as she could get.
She looked into the watery blue eyes staring up at her and let the spy see what she held.
"We've got to stay down."
He nodded his understanding and, with that, she armed the remote detonator and tossed the cube so it landed behind the last of Kendrick's men.
()
Frozen inside without your touch,
Without your love, darling
Only you are the life among the dead
()
The second explosion took the last of the fight out of the survivors. After only a few more shots, an unearthly silence settled over the scene. Feeling the woman above him shift her weight as she got to her feet, Michael Westen looked away from the scene of destruction to gaze into the sea green orbs of the woman he loved.
"Fi, I – I'm sorry," he mumbled as she held out a hand to help him onto his feet.
"No, you're not, but you will be," she promised as she smiled up at him, the palm of her hand flat against his chest as Fiona steadied him.
He had expected to die, he had wanted to die and now he was left feeling hollow and adrift.
"You came after me?"
He had said the same thing to James. It had been that act of loyalty which had severed the last strand of his allegiance to the CIA. It was in that moment he realized that he trusted the man he had been hunting to have his back more than the agency which had cast him aside, more than once.
"When will you get it through your -,"
They both heard the sound of approaching feet at the same moment and tensed in preparation to continue the fight.
()
All this time I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
()
"What the hell, Fi?! You nearly took my goddamn head off with that second blast."
"Yeah, a little warning woulda been the cool thing to do, woman... Hey, Mike."
"Sam, Jesse." The redhead couldn't hide her joy at seeing her two friends were in one piece. "You made it... Late as usual, I see." But she also couldn't resist teasing them a little at missing most of the action.
Michael listened to the familiar bickering. He had missed this so much and it had taken his near death to remind him what it was to live.
"Any sooner and we woulda walked straight into your little firework display," Sam gently admonished.
"Kendrick, James Kendrick. You are under arrest." Strong's smug tone sounded strangely loud in the sudden quiet of what had been a battlefield and Michael was faintly surprised when he barely reacted to the voice of the man who had ridden him so hard that it had nearly killed him.
The team watched as the CIA senior agent dropped down beside the bloody body of the leader of the elusive organization he had been hunting for the best part of a decade. "I win you, bastard... I win."
As Strong grabbed at the fallen man's shirt, jerking the limp body off the ground, much to everybody's surprise, James let out a soft groan.
"You – You're alive...?" Strong shook the mortally injured man. "Good, you bastard, you can answer my questions. Why? What was so special about Ferguson? He was a diplomat working out of Sweden, for god's sake. He was a nobody and you had him killed and you framed a good man for it!" Spittle was forming on the deranged agent's lips as he slapped the dying man on the face. "Matt Baker had a family, a wife and a child. He was my best friend and you destroyed -"
A shot rang out and Strong fell back. Somehow James had found the strength to get hold of his attacker's weapon. Everybody was stunned by the sheer willpower which had not only kept Kendrick alive, but was now giving him the strength to carry on the fight.
With blood bubbling on his lips and his breath coming in a deep shuddering wheeze, James turned his stolen gun on the woman who destroyed his life's work. His hand moved lazily, his vision dimmed. He was dying. But as the gun came to bear on Fiona, it seemed he had found his target.
Michael moved so quickly, nobody was aware of what he was doing until more shots rang out. He pulled Fiona's Walther from her waistband and, in one smooth move, lifted it and fired. One shot hit James between the eyes and a second shot entered his heart. The rogue network was no more. It had taken nearly a year, but Michael Westen had finally removed the head from the snake.
"Jesus!" Sam exclaimed as he rushed towards the downed agent. "Somebody call the paramedics. He's still alive... Jesse, help these guys secure James' team." The former SEAL started barking out orders.
"Michael, Michael, give me the gun." The troubled spy barely heard the words. But when he felt the gentle pull on his hand, he relinquished the weapon without a fight.
"I'm fine, Fi." He saw the concern in her eyes and tried to offer some reassurance.
"No, you're not." She lifted her hand to comb her fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck. "But you will be."
"Hey, Tinkerbell!" Sam called to the Irishwoman.
The petite redhead looked up at the man at her side, gently reaching up to direct his gaze onto her. Staring into his slightly dazed blue eyes, she stroked her hand down his cheek. "Stay here, don't move."
"I -" He went to follow her, but she stopped him with a look.
"Stay here. Sam probably just needs someone to hold his hand."
It seemed slightly surreal to be standing there in the middle of what had been a battle ground and to be at peace. James was dead. Strong… Michael stared down at his injured case officer. Strong had gotten everything he deserved and, with the information off the hard drive in his pocket, once he handed that over, his friends would be safe.
He watched as Sam and Fiona spoke together in low tones while Jesse took control of what was left of Strong's CIA team. He was proud of them all.
()
Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul,
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life
()
"Michael, we have to go." Fiona was back at his side.
"Go?" He shook his head. "It's my mission, I have to -"
"Strong must have acted without authorization. He used a CIA team on US soil against a US citizen. There is no way this is going to end well. With Strong injured, the CIA will hang this all on you." She tugged on his arm, urging him to move before one of Strong's men decided the rogue spy they had been trying to apprehend should be in handcuffs.
"But -"
"No buts, Michael. We have to go now. Sam says he and Jesse will be fine. They're civilians and Strong's men all witnessed how they did nothing but follow orders."
He didn't want to leave… this was his mission, his responsibility.
"Now, Michael! If you stay, everything we've done will be for nothing... Is that what you want?"
He shook his head. She was right. He had put his trust in the agency for the last time. He would give them the thumb drive, but only after Sam and Jesse were free and they all had a cast iron agreement.
"Let's get out of here."
Slowly and quietly, the couple slipped away, disappearing down a corridor and eventually finding their way down to the basement and out through a service door. As they fled along the path beside the river, they could hear the loud wail of sirens as the emergency services rushed to the scene.
"We'll get a car from the parking lot I passed getting here. Then you can explain to me what was so important that you couldn't wait for me to help you."
They were running past a dilapidated warehouse waiting to be demolished. The building was far enough away from the scene that it was unlikely it would ever be searched. They had to talk or rather he had to know something before he went any further.
Catching hold of her arm, he gestured for her to stop. "We – I…" He dragged her behind the wall and into the shell of the warehouse.
"Michael, we have to keep moving."
"No, no, I'm not going to run until I -" He paced before her, trying to get the words that he so desperately wanted to say to come out. But his tongue simply refused to cooperate. "We need… I mean, I can't -"
"Michael, Michael, Look at me…" Fiona closed in on him, but he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye, still fearing another rejection.
"Look. At... Oh, bother wit' ya, ya bloody man."
The breath was forced from his lungs as she slammed him against the wall, her mouth sealing over his as their teeth clashed together. Her fingers combed roughly through his hair, scraping against his skull. She attacked him with the fervor of a woman possessed and he melted into her touch.
()
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
Call my name and save me from the dark
()
With each scratch, bite, nip, lick, caress, she brought his damaged soul and wounded heart back to life. They were back where it all began, on some dingy back street of Belfast tearing at each other as the adrenaline still flowed from a job well done. A bomb blast, a gunfight, a sneak attack… it didn't matter what the job was, they were alive and in love.
()
(Wake me up)
Bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up)
Before I come undone
(Save me)
Save me from the nothing I've become
()
She pushed him away from him suddenly, a strong hand to the center of his chest while grasping his chin painfully tight as she forced him to look directly at her.
"Yer a pig headed idjit, so ya ar', but yer my pig headed idjit an' if' ya ever forgit it ag'in, I'm gonna kick yar arse fram har to Derry, so help me, I am. Do ya hear me, Michael?"
And for the first time in a very long time, a genuine smile graced his weary face and the light of hope shown in his watery blue eyes. The man she loved was back, brought back to life once again.
()
(Bring me to life)
()