Chapter 3
Michael should have been able to handle this himself, but after seeing Fiona walk into a bed and breakfast with Mr. Campbell-look-alike and waiting all day for them to emerge, he couldn't take it anymore. Stakeouts on strangers were bad enough, but on someone he loved, it was complete torture. Thoughts and plans rambled through his head. He should have stopped her. He should have ripped her arm from the stranger's grasp and let him have it with his other hand curled up into a fist. He should have fought for her. Instead, he watched her disappear from his sight, and maybe his life forever.
As the sun began to set in the west, and he'd been back and forth along the main street for several hours, Michael dropped onto a bench against a storefront, unable to take another step. He fished out his phone and dialed the one person he knew who could help him with woman problems.
"Mikey, what's wrong," Sam greeted him, sounding tense.
"Sam, I found Fi, but I have a problem." He paused, trying to form the words to tell his best friend the horrible news.
Before he could say another word, Sam blurted, "Oh, no. No. She did not find another guy, Mike. No way."
"How did you know..."
"I know how you think, but I also know Fiona. She wouldn't dump you, man."
"I'm afraid you're wrong, Sam. I saw them... together... right after she contacted some other guy. She's got an arms deal going on with him." Michael cleared the thickness building up in his throat and stared at the people passing.
"Maybe she's just got herself a partner in arms dealing," Sam suggested with a hopeful tone.
"If that's the case, then she's started kissing her partners."
"You were the first, Mike," Sam teased, but he sobered at the sound of a soft growl over the line. "Sorry. So, what's his name? I'll do some digging, find out what I can about him..."
"I don't know." He told Sam what he'd seen and ended on a sigh. "The last time I let her walk away she came back, but I don't think I'm going to get that lucky this time."
"Oh, Mike..." The mournful sound of Sam's voice buzzed over the line. "Tell you what. While you were with the CIA, Elsa and I took flying lessons. She, uh, dropped out, but I passed and I've got my license. So why don't I fly on down there and we'll see what's happening? We'll get to the bottom of it, and if she's really over you, well... we'll figure out how to handle things then."
"Really? You'd fly down here just like that tonight?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
It was foolish of Michael to think that Sam wouldn't drop everything and run, or in this case fly himself, to help his friend. Ever since the two reunited when Michael was first burned, the ex-SEAL was always there for him no matter what. They may not have agreed on everything, but Sam always supported him. Michael felt ashamed for his wavering trust.
Sam said, "I'm heading upstairs right now to pack a bag, and I'll call the airport to have the plane ready and file a flight plan. Then I'm there. Give me about an hour or two, okay?"
"You can fly at night? You know it'll be almost dark by the time you get here," Michael said, unsure of his friend's abilities.
"No problem, I'm cleared for night flying. The weather's fine, so I should have no problem. I'll see you in a little while. Oh, and don't be surprised if Elsa comes along. She's been dying to get up in the plane with me."
"That's not a problem. I'm just glad you're coming here. Thanks for your help, Sam." Michael took a deep breath. He hadn't felt so helpless in many years, and he didn't know how to cope. "I'm staying at the Magnolia."
"Good choice. Do me a favor and see if you can book a room for me and Elsa."
"Will do." After he broke the connection with Sam, Michael let out a breath in relief. He finally had something to do while he waited.
Michael walked back to the hotel and booked a room across the hall for Sam and Elsa. Left with nothing else to do, he drove to the airport to wait for Sam's plane to arrive. He found a comfortable seat near the arrivals area and waited, feeling a sense of déjà vu, except in this case the tables were turned. He was waiting for Sam this time. He parked his butt across from a wide glass window but saw very little traffic coming into the airport. Several planes lined up to take off, however, and he watched them with half interest. The craft he wanted to see would be coming in from the east.
Almost ninety minutes after Sam called, Michael moved to the window and watched a sharp looking single-engine Cessna glide in for a perfect landing, the last of the sunlight painting its white body a blazing orange. The plane appeared to be able to seat ten passengers with a cargo hold underneath, and Michael almost salivated at the possibilities if it was indeed Sam's plane. That much space for people and supplies would be perfect for any mission requiring winged transportation. The Cessna slowed to a rolling stop at the end of the runway and turned left, taxiing toward the arrival area.
Michael lost sight of it for a couple of minutes, and then he saw the sleek craft pulling into an unoccupied parking area, being led by a ground crew member holding two red lights above his head. The engine shut down, the propeller slowing to a stop. Inside the cockpit he saw one person moving , backlit by the cabin lights. The pilot turned and Michael saw Sam's distinctive profile. A door on the side of the cabin opened and Elsa descended the stairs. Sam followed with two suitcases, and when he hit the tarmac, he set them down and secured the plane's entrance before walking to the building with the rolling pieces of luggage. Whatever Sam expected to do in Key West, he anticipated that it might take awhile. Elsa had her phone glued to her ear, talking all the way to the terminal, and she put it away just in time to say hello to Michael.
He didn't expect to get a warm hug from her. He accepted it and looked over her shoulder with a questioning gaze at Sam, who only shrugged.
As she broke away, Elsa looked at him with sympathy in her expression. "Sam told me about Fiona. I'm so sorry this happened, but if there's anything we can do, we'll certainly try."
"Thanks, Elsa. I appreciate it."
"Did you see the plane, Mike? She's a beauty isn't she?" Sam grinned as he put an arm around Elsa's waist, leaving Michael to wonder if he was talking about the airplane or the woman that he held close. "It was my graduation present for passing flight school."
"He was top of his class," Elsa said with pride as she smiled and squeezed Sam. "He deserved it."
"It seats eight and has a payload of around three thousand pounds, give or take a few hundred." He grinned. "It's quite the mode of transportation."
"That's great," Michael said, feeling uncomfortable with the intimacy that passed between the two. "I got you a room at the Magnolia, so why don't we start there?"
"That's a great idea, Mike. Come on, honey." Sam released her and took her hand. "After we get checked in, we'll grab dinner and we can talk about what's going on."
Michael picked up Elsa's luggage and he and Sam carried the bags to the Charger. He put both pieces in the trunk and Sam got into the back seat, letting Elsa ride shotgun. As he drove the road through the downtown area and headed to the hotel, Michael kept his eyes roving, looking for a sign of Fiona. She was nowhere to be seen under the streetlights coming to life or in the open air restaurants they passed. He dropped Sam and Elsa off at the hotel entrance and parked the car as they checked in and settled in, and he scanned the area outside the hotel with no success.
Michael wasn't surprised to see Sam wearing his usual attire, but Elsa ditched her business suit for a bright yellow sundress with flowers on it. She wore white stylish sandals on her feet and her jewelry matched. Even in casual clothing, she looked elegant.
To his surprise, Elsa asked, "So, where'd you see Fiona?"
Recovering, Michael answered and turned his head toward the east. "She was at a bed and breakfast down a few blocks."
"Let's go grab some drinks and something to eat, and we'll talk about this. I know you're eager to get her, Mike, but I need to know what we're dealing with here before we just jump in," Sam urged as he led the way out of the hotel.
Again, Sam knew exactly what he was thinking.
"So, where can a guy get a good mojito around here?"
Smiling, Michael said, "Follow me. I think I know just the place.
The three ate dinner under the stars. A breeze with a hint of coolness came off the ocean, and Elsa shivered against the cold air. Without a word, Sam picked up the wrap draped over the back of her chair and set it on her shoulders, and Elsa thanked him with her eyes. The more Michael witnessed Sam interacting with her, the more he understood what women saw in him. He was always attentive even if he didn't appear to be, sneaking small tokens of affection now and then either under or on the table, and seeing to it that she was comfortable and always had something to drink.
Michael observed all this as he told Sam about his day following Fiona around and staking out the bed and breakfast. "If you can figure out another explanation for what's going on, I'm all ears."
Smiling, Sam replied, "Mike, you should know better. Not everything is always as it appears. And right now you're agitated because you had this idea you would just come down here, find Fiona, and sweep her off her feet. You didn't count on her having some kind of life, did you?"
"You call this a life," Michael asked as he leaned forward and lowered his voice to avoid drawing attention. "She's arms dealing again, Sam. It's dangerous and the payout is risky."
"Like anything we did wasn't risky?" Sam rested his elbows on the table, closing the distance so that Elsa had to sit back or wind up sandwiched between the two men. "Mike, Fi's a big girl, she can handle herself. No offense, Brother, but she was doing all that stuff before you met her, and then you left, and she went right back to it."
"You're not helping, Sam."
"Tough truth hurts sometimes. I know you, if I tried to sugar coat this, you'd be calling me out on it." Sam snorted. "You know it's true."
Michael let out a long sigh and dropped his forehead onto his folded hands. "You're right. Okay, so she's got this new life, am I supposed to just let it go and be happy for her?"
"If it were anyone else, I'd say... maybe." Sam's eyes darkened in intensity when he spoke. "But I know you, and I know Fi. Try as you might, you're never good without each other. You need to confront her and if we have to tie her down with zip ties until you get a chance to adequately explain this whole thing, then that's what we'll do." Sam leaned back in his chair. "I just wish you'd explain it to me first, because I sure don't know what happened! I can guess, but I'd rather hear the truth from you."
"Can you wait until we get together with Fiona? It might be easier that way."
Sam nodded and tapped Elsa's upper arm. "Okay, Elsa, honey, we'll need duct tape too."
"Duct tape? Whatever for?" She looked at him as if he was crazy.
"To keep her mouth shut," Sam replied with a smirk. "Heavy duty, 'cause she'll probably chew through the regular stuff before Mike gets out two words."
"Sam," Michael growled, while Sam laughed.
"You know I'm just kidding, Mikey!"
"Sorry, I'm not in much of a kidding mood." Michael scanned the beach beyond the deck and watched the last of the sun dip below the waterline. How come he never paid attention to stuff like that before? He knew Fi would have liked to see it. For all he knew, she could be on a beach somewhere on the island at that very moment enjoying it with Whats His Name.
"We'll get her, Mike. Don't worry."
"I know." Michael turned a warm smile on his friend. "I still can't believe you just jumped in that plane and flew here!"
"I need all the practice I can get," Sam said. "I want to learn how to fly a jet, and then I can pilot Elsa's Gulfstream." He grinned. "Now that's one hot plane!"
"It keeps him out of trouble," Elsa cut in with a sly smile. "That and his dad..."
"Elsa," Sam warned.
Michael's expression turned serious. "Your dad, Sam? What's this about?"
"I don't wanna talk about it. You've got your own troubles, Mike. Let's just finish up here and go back to the hotel, grab a little soak in the jacuzzi, and hit the sack." Sam drained his mojito glass. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow." He waved for the check and paid it, to Michael's surprise. Then Sam pulled Elsa's chair out and she stood, and he put an arm around her shoulders to lead her back to the Magnolia. "Coming, Mike?"
"Uh, yeah." Hearing the word 'dad' conjured up a lot of bad memories for Michael. Sam never talked about his father, not much anyway. Just bits and pieces of his childhood came to light during assignments and jobs, but nothing that would allow him to get a good picture of who the senior Axe was. Sam was shaken enough by Elsa's blurb that he knew he needed to draw him out and get to the bottom of it. If talking about Fiona would heal something inside Michael, talking about his dad would heal Sam.
At the hotel, Michael found Sam in the hot tub alone. "Where's Elsa?"
Sam sighed as he took a sip of another mojito and set it on the rim as he laid his head back. "She got a call from the hotel. It's probably nothing, but some people on the staff know she'll pick up for anything."
"So we might not see her for awhile," Michael suggested. He took one step into the warm water. It swirled and bubbled around his ankle, the warmth enticing him to immerse himself. He heeded the call, descending the short stairs and sitting on a shelf that ran along the outside.
"Good evening, Sir. Would you care for a cocktail," a woman asked Michael.
He looked up into her friendly face. "Sure. Just some whisky, straight up."
"Certainly, Sir." She hurried away to get him his drink.
"How's the mojito," Michael asked, warming himself up to deliver the insightful questions.
"It'll do." Sam took another sip and slipped further under the water so only his neck and head showed. "You should get down more, Mike. Let those jets get rid of the tension."
"I suppose your dad is giving you some tension?" Michael quirked an eyebrow as he followed Sam's advice. He took a sip of the drink the server left him on the side of the jacuzzi.
"I really don't want to talk about it. It's nothing. Elsa's the one making a big deal about it."
Michael didn't say a word. He sat watching Sam mentally squirm until he would reveal more, and he didn't have to wait long.
"I saw him at that charity thing we went to last night. I wasn't sure it was him at first, because I just got a short glimpse." He paused for another sip of his drink. "I haven't seen him in decades, so I could just be imagining things. He's aged, you know?"
"Haven't we all," Michael said. "But there had to be something that made him stick out in your mind and make you think it was your dad."
"The nose. We have almost the same nose," Sam replied. "And the cheek bones. The hair, but his was, like, white almost, and cut in a military style."
"He doesn't have your chin?" Michael turned to look at his friend's profile.
Sam turned his head to face him and replied, "No, got that from my mom."
"Oh. Still, what makes you think it's him? And if it is, so what? Unless you want to reach out and meet up with him, what difference does it make?"
"I don't know," Sam replied with a groan. "I've been asking myself that the last twenty four hours. It shouldn't matter. He and I have no relationship other than by blood, so why should I care about him?"
"Wasn't he there when you were a kid," Michael asked. "You told me about the Red Ryder gun..."
"Yeah, he was around for that, but it wasn't long after when he left." Sam lowered his chin to his chest, as if telling Michael that little fact drew out the last of his energy. "I always thought it was my fault, because I would do stuff that pissed off my dad. Until I was about ten, he was great. He taught me a lot of cool stuff, but then he got... busy... with work." Sam shook his head. "You don't really wanna hear all this boring crap."
"It's not boring, Sam. I know nearly everything else about you, but this is a piece you've never revealed." He rested a forearm on the side of the jacuzzi and turned to face Sam. "It's not like I can't take it. You know what my dad was like."
"You're right. Okay, I'll tell you." Sam fortified himself with a good sip of his mojito before beginning. "Like I said, my dad was around and he was great. He always believed in firm discipline, but he never knocked me around in anger, you know?" Not like Michael's dad. "He had a great arm, and he taught me how to throw a football." Sam smiled at the recollection and relaxed against the wall. "He was a star quarterback in high school, and he was certain I would be too, but he always told me that the education was more important."
"Sounds like he was a good dad," Michael said.
"He was, when he was around. Like I said, he started popping in and out. Ma said he had a new job that required him to travel a lot. For awhile there he was hardly home, and that's when I stole the Red Ryder. I wanted that thing so bad, but he was never around to talk about it, so I just took matters into my own hands." He paused and licked his lips, staring across the hot tub, lost in the past. "When he came home and found out about it, that was the closest he ever came to beating me. But he decided to let the embarrassment of going back to the store and meeting with the manager in front of the other customers be enough punishment." He smirked. "The really crazy thing was, I had enough allowance money to buy it. It was stupid."
"You were acting out because you missed your dad," Michael suggested. "If you did something drastic, maybe he'd come home and give you his attention."
The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. "Bingo. It worked, for a few days. Then he was off again." He sighed deeply. "I felt betrayed. I can't even imagine what Mom was thinking. But then I look back and I think about how she acted, and things she said... she knew he was having an affair." He stopped and took a sip of his drink. "I didn't figure out something was up until I was fifteen. Dad came home for a couple weeks, said we were going on vacation. We went to Yellowstone and camped out, and I was in our tent alone and saw something peeking out of my dad's suitcase. It was a picture of a woman, and it wasn't my Mom."
"Did you call him out on it?"
Sam nodded. "When Mom was away from the site, yeah, I did." He fell silent, the memory of that day too painful to voice. Instead, he shook his head. "That was it after that. He moved out, my parents got divorced, and I never saw him again. At least, not directly." He drained his glass.
Michael looked at Sam, puzzled. "What do you mean, not directly?"
"I swear I saw him at some of my games, but I wasn't sure. And graduation. When I went to Annapolis, I could have sworn he was in the stands." A small smile crossed his lips. "If it was him, he looked really proud of me. Maybe I just wanted to see that, I don't know."
"Hello, boys," Elsa said as she approached, slipped off her sandals, and stepped into the warm water. She slid to Sam's side and he smiled at her as he enfolded her into himself.
"Hey, baby." He kissed her temple.
"You two look so serious. Sam must be telling you about his dad."
"I was working on it."
"Well, sweetheart, I don't think you were just imagining things. One of the reasons I was on the phone so long is that there was a disturbance at the hotel. A man claiming to be Sam Axe Sr. came to the hotel, checked in, and was adamant about seeing you."
"Really?"
"Yes. He got quite belligerent when he was told you weren't there, that you'd just left town." She ordered a drink and returned to her news. "I got his room number, so if you want to call him and talk to him, Sam, you can."
"Wow. You think it's really him?" He looked around at Michael and Elsa. "And if it is, what do I say? It's been how long since I've seen him? Almost half a century." Sam took a long drag on the refill of his drink. "I'll think about it."
Michael advised with a serious tone, "Don't think too long, Sam. He's gotta be an old man now."
"When you saw him at the charity ball, he looked quite old. Frail, even," Elsa volunteered. "There may not be much time..."
Sam pushed himself off the bench and away from Elsa. "Don't you think I know that?" He turned and stared at his friend and his lover gawking at him. "I said I'd think about it, and I will. Just don't push me." He climbed the steps, grabbed a towel, and headed for the room.
"I'm sorry," Michael said.
"It's not your fault. He probably thinks, I'm nagging him. Compared to him, I had a perfectly idyllic childhood. Or so he likes to say." She smirked. The expression wiped off her face and she looked at Michael. "I just want him to be happy, and at peace with his dad."
"I wish I could have that, but my dad is gone." He gave Elsa a reassuring smile. "I'll see what I can do to help Sam."
"Thank you, Michael. He really has a great friend in you."
Michael gave her a soulful smile. "I think the feeling is mutual."