Part 31
Maria would've laughed at the stunned expression on Hawkins' face as he scrambled to his feet, but the fear that she had been keeping leashed since Michael had taken off kept her amusement in check. She was quiet as she walked outside with Indigo, only turning her attention to him when he reached out to touch her arm.
"What?" she asked, realizing that he had asked a question and she hadn't been listening the first time he had voiced it.
"I was just askin' if you had someplace specific in mind."
"Oh." Maria looked around the parking lot, her gaze pausing for a few moments on the Range Rover before she shook her head. "Would you mind walking for a bit?"
"Not at all."
They walked in silence for quite a while before Indigo spoke, his voice breaking into her thoughts. "You seem to have somethin' on your mind," he said, starting slowly to see if she wanted to talk.
"Do you know anything about the terrorist Michael went after?" she asked after several minutes.
Indigo sighed as he scanned the neighborhood around them, searching for any possible threats as he debated the best way to answer her. He could see the fear in her eyes as she looked to him for reassurance and he could feel the weight of her stare as she waited. This was the reason why the majority of people in dangerous professions like theirs avoided relationships that required emotional ties. Most of them only got involved on a physical level to avoid messy entanglements, explanations, and reassurances like the one she was asking him for.
"Michael's damn good at what he does, Maria," he said finally. "He's been doin' this kinda work - "
"Indigo, I have a pretty good picture of his capability in the field." She paused and stopped walking so she could turn to face him. "I want to know if this terrorist, Basara, is better than Michael. I've heard the talk going around at the bar and it seems like this guy's one of the most dangerous - "
"They're in the same class, professionally speaking."
"So, theoretically, he's good enough to - "
Indigo interrupted before she could finish that sentence. "Don't go there, Maria. Look, it doesn't matter how good you are; there's always gonna be someone out there who's better and faster than you. Just remember that Michael's at the top of the game and he's trained well enough to go up against Basara." He shook his head. "Xavier wouldn't have allowed him to accompany Marcos if he had any doubts that they could complete the mission with success."
They resumed walking in silence and Maria looked around when she realized that they were nearing St. Vincent's. She hadn't intended to take their walk in the cathedral's direction, but it seemed that her feet had led her there anyway. She motioned to the entrance as she looked up at her companion. "Do you mind?"
"No, not at all." He followed her inside, wondering how she knew about the church. "How do you know about St. Vincent's?" he asked curiously, his voice hushed as they were surrounded by the powerful silence within the building.
"Gabriel brought me here and introduced me to Father Augustine." She smiled as she took a seat and after a moment he sat down beside her. "I had asked about doing something at the bar for Christmas and I think he was afraid I was going to decorate it if he didn't redirect my attention."
Indigo smiled in understanding. He could just imagine the thoughts that had gone through Gabriel's head when she had mentioned decorating Azrael's Sanctuary; the guys never would've let him live that down. "And has he succeeded in redirecting your attention?"
"For now."
He shook his head and chuckled at the mischievous grin that accompanied her words. "I just knew Guerin was gonna have his hands full with you."
Maria's expression sobered. "Better me than some terrorist trying to kill him."
"Hey, you can't think of all the things that could go wrong; that'll just drive you insane. Michael was trained by the best and he's survived missions that in all reality shouldn't have come to an end with anything but a pile of dead bodies."
Was that supposed to be comforting? "Who would be notified if anything happened to him?" She sighed quietly and shook her head. "I know you're trying to be… positive so I don't worry, and I appreciate that, but just tell me the truth."
"Most of us don't have anyone to notify; the type of ops we work aren't generally handed out to agents with families waiting for them at home."
"Because it makes explanations easier for the Company when their agents come home in a body bag?" Her voice was low out of respect for the church, but it was filled with anger nonetheless. "How can you be part of an organization like that?"
"It's a job that has to be done, Maria; I could sit here and try like hell to explain it to you, but you're never gonna understand it." He rubbed his eyes and glanced to the side when a woman walked past them and made her way to the front of the church. "People walk around every single day, takin' freedom for granted, but it has a cost that they don't wanna know anything about. As long as their lives aren't interrupted by the uglier side of life they prefer to remain blissfully ignorant. If we were to release what we do to the public… if we were to make it known that we take an aggressive stance and remove threats usin' the methods that we use, the very people that we work to protect would turn on us."
"What?"
"I remember your reaction the day I told you that Michael was a sniper." He nodded when her gaze shot to him. "I didn't need verbal confirmation to know that you didn't approve of his occupation then and I don't need it now. If you break it down to its simplest form, he's paid to kill people… it's what the Company pays most of its agents to do. Not every assignment requires a kill shot, but there are enough of them that do… and you don't approve of that."
Maria sighed. Most of what Indigo was saying was true. It was easier to turn a blind eye to the sordid reality he was depicting, but now that Michael was involved in that picture she didn't know what to think; life wasn't black and white anymore. "I'm not so naïve that I think terrorists can be reasoned with, Indigo… I know that it's necessary for covert organizations like the Company to exist to protect freedom, but…"
"But, you'd be a lot more comfortable with the idea if you didn't know anyone involved in it, wouldn't you? Once you can put a name and a face to those who are charged with the safekeeping of liberty you can't pretend to not know the cost any longer."
"He's been gone for two weeks…" She sighed in frustration. "I guess I can see why so many agents remain unattached."
"Hell, most agents don't even screw the same person on a regular basis."
Maria instinctively denied what Indigo was implying. It was an easy, albeit mistaken, assumption to make considering Michael's way with women, but they were not sleeping together. Absolutely not. "Oh, no, Michael and I aren't…"
Indigo let that go but his thoughts were running rampant as he faced the front of the church. If Guerin wasn't fuckin' her, why was she still around? The man wasn't the type of person to form attachments that lasted more than a few hours… a night at the most… so what other reason was there for her to be livin' with the man?
Maria could read the thoughts written so clearly on his face. "You're wondering why I'm still around, aren't you?"
"The thought crossed my mind, but it's really none of my business." He grinned as he glanced at her. "Unless you wanna tell me."
She shook her head. "Nope."
"Didn't think so."
They started walking again, both lost in their own thoughts. Maria raised her head to look at the sky, wishing that Michael was with her. Which Michael? She shook her head, not wanting to think about the answer to that question. "So, are you gonna be around for Christmas?" she asked.
Indigo smiled like a little kid, happy to switch to a more pleasant subject. "Huh-uh, I'll be flyin' back home tomorrow mornin'. I've got three ladies at home that'll be waitin' to spoil me rotten over Christmas and since Christmas Eve is just a couple days away I can't risk not bein' there. What about you? Got any plans?"
Maria sighed. There was nothing much to do for her… no Michael, no Mom, no Liz, no friends… no one. "I'm gonna help Father Augustine with his Christmas dinner for the homeless. After that I don't really have any plans."
Reading the loneliness on her face, Indigo decided that the poor girl needed a friend. And some company. "Well, can I talk you into goin' to dinner with me tonight?"
Maria smiled at him. "I think you already have."
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Michael reclined back on the bed in his hotel room, the fingers of his right hand drumming against his chest as he tried to focus on anything but the boredom that was nearly driving him out of his mind. They were rapidly closing in on a month in Cairo and they still hadn't found Basara; there had been several times that they had come close, but the terrorist was just as good as his reputation claimed he was.
Without his permission his mind wandered to Maria and he wondered what she was doing. He felt the weirdest twisting, knotting sensation in his chest and he quickly sat up, swallowing hard as he shook his head and shoved himself to his feet. No. There was no way that he missed that mouth on legs… it was too absurd to be plausible. She talked all the damn time, she refused to have sex with him, and she was always comparing him to his counterpart and finding him lacking in some way or other. He nodded to himself, feeling better after listing some of her faults. Of course, on the other hand, she was an amazing cook, she was actually pretty good company at times, he had started to almost enjoy having her around the house… He frowned when his mind took off on its own journey and when he realized that the strange feeling in his chest was starting to feel constricted he stood and started to pace. He didn't miss her… he didn't!
He glanced at the bedside clock before grabbing his shoulder holster and sliding his arms into it. It was way too early to be dragging Marcos out, but he had to do something; he was going out to rattle some cages and see if he could get some Intel. He pulled a jacket on to cover the weapons, grabbed his key and shoved it in his pocket, as he reached for the door.
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Maria leaned against the counter and watched the people in the bar as they stayed within their own little groups; it was rare for any of them to step outside of their chosen groups or for the ones who preferred their own company to really associate with anyone else. That hadn't changed at any point during Christmas and now, even as the New Year was quickly approaching there was no festive atmosphere; it was business as usual and no one questioned it or seemed interested in changing it.
"No big plans for New Year's Eve?"
She straightened up and looked at the woman who had spoken, surprised to see Stone sitting on one of the bar stools. She hadn't seen the agent in a couple of weeks and she had assumed she was on an assignment. She wondered if Michael had been in contact with the woman sitting on the other side of the counter. "No, I told Gabriel I'd work since a couple of the other waitresses did have plans and I wasn't really doing anything anyway. What about you? I haven't seen you around in a while."
"How about a whiskey neat?"
Ooookay, so they weren't going to discuss that topic. Maria moved to get the drink, rolling her eyes at the woman's tone.
Stone chuckled quietly as she watched the waitress; she had been in a couple of nights before when the woman had been off so she had heard the rumors going around about Basara. "It's killin' you to not ask, isn't it?" She was certain she was right when Maria tensed up before forcing herself to relax. The glass of whiskey was carefully placed on the counter in front of her, but her sharp gaze detected the slight tremor in the woman's hand as she pulled it back. "Michael can handle himself," she said before taking a drink of the amber liquid.
"I didn't ask," Maria snapped.
"Uh-huh, and you don't go to St. Vincent's every night and light a candle for him either, do you? Prayer doesn't save anyone, kid."
Maria frowned at the agent's cynical tone. "You don't know that."
For just the briefest moment the expression in Stone's eyes shifted from anger to fear to anguish, but then they turned cold and hard once more. "Don't tell me what I know; you don't know me and we're not about to become friends and share our personal thoughts and feelings with each other."
Maria shook her head, annoyed by the woman's behavior. "Why are you even talking to me?"
"I have no idea." She turned her head to scan the bar once more, frowning when no one caught her attention. She finished the drink and motioned for another, forcing her mind to avoid moving into the past and treading on memories that were still too painful to disturb.
"Maybe I could help if you'd tell me who you're looking for," Maria offered when the woman's gaze swept over the patrons again.
"Someone to fuck." Her predatory gaze swung back to the waitress. "I doubt you'll be very helpful in that area."
"Hmmm, as tempting as the thought of pimping you out is, I think I'll pass." Maria ignored Stone and went back to her customers, doing her best to avoid the thoughts that kept wanting to surface. It had been more than a month without a word from Michael and the constant speculation surrounding the length of his mission and Basara wasn't helping her to sleep any better at night.
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Marcos stood over Basara's lifeless body, satisfied that the potential threat that the terrorist had represented in regards to his future had died with him. He had been looking into the man's eyes and he had seen the moment of fear when he had delivered the man's death sentence. True to his word, Michael hadn't taken the shot until Marcos had made his statement, and the terrorist hadn't been quick enough to avoid the sniper's bullet as it had hit him right between the eyes.
They had lured Basara out in broad daylight, risking retaliation by any of his associates so that Marcos could have his revenge. Five weeks of back alley meetings, information that had lead them in circles, and several traps set up by third parties had left them worn out and exhausted, and he knew he owed Michael big after this mission.
He waited with the body until Xavier's cleanup crew arrived to dispose of the body and settle any questions that the authorities had. Several hours later he was finally able to make his way back to the hotel and he knocked on the door to the other man's room. It was opened within seconds and he entered without an invitation.
"Everything go okay?" Michael asked, unconcerned. He had gone back to the hotel after taking Basara out, ready to get his things together so they could leave Cairo on the first available plane.
"Xavier covered all the bases as usual, so we're in the clear. I'm gonna pack and take a shower so we can go home; the plane'll be on the tarmac within the next hour."
"How long before you're ready?"
Marcos stared hard at the younger man, barely making his features out under the interior lighting of the hotel room. "Since when are you in a hurry to get home?"
"Since I've been in this shithole for five weeks," Michael snapped, unwilling to examine his reasons behind wanting to expedite their departure. "So, if we could hurry this along I'd appreciate it."
"All right," Marcos agreed, unwilling to start an argument that would put Michael in a bad mood for the entire trip home, "give me half an hour and I'll be ready."
They were crossing the tarmac to board the plane an hour later when all hell broke loose and bullets started ricocheting off of the ground around them as they ran for the steps that led up into the plane. Marcos misjudged the last step and tripped, dropping out of the gunman's sights momentarily. Michael turned to fire at their would-be assassin, keeping him occupied until Marcos could get inside.
He swore when a bullet hit one of the rails and ricocheted off, hitting him in the side and burning like hell as it embedded itself beneath his flesh. "Fuck!" He dropped down out of sight as he reloaded and before he could stand up again he heard a barrage of gunfire coming from the opposite side where the shooter had been firing from.
He looked behind him when Marcos' hand settled on his shoulder. "It's more of Xavier's guys; he said they'll take care of it and we're free to go."
"Who the fuck was shootin' at us?" Michael snarled as the co-pilot shut the door behind them, locking it into place before heading back to the cockpit.
"One of Basara's people." Marcos narrowed his eyes as he looked at Michael. "He didn't get you, did he?"
"Nah, man, I'm fine; a few scratches that I think I'll clean out once we take off, but other than that I'm good." He ignored the pain in his side as they settled into the plush seats on opposite sides of the plane, belting themselves in for takeoff. As soon as they were in the air Michael grabbed his bag and stood up. "I'm gonna hit the head to clean up…" He shook his head when he realized that Marcos was already on the phone with Cailyn.
With the way his luck had been going for the past few months he'd probably spend the entire flight listening to the man's conversations with his soon-to-be-fiancé. Since they had been spending so much time together he had come to the realization that Marcos was completely out of his mind. He shook his head as he entered the small lavatory and he pulled his shirt up to get a better look at the wound. Marcos had always seemed highly intelligent and job-oriented, but now he knew better, and the next eighteen hours were going to be excruciating, he could just feel it.
He had to twist from the waist up to see where the bullet had entered and he frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Damn it! His medical kit wasn't gonna help him one damn bit because he wasn't gonna be able to get the fucking bullet out. It had entered too far back and there was no way for him to physically remove it. He cleaned up as well as he could before packing gauze over the still bleeding wound and taping it heavily so he wouldn't bleed all over the place. He would deal with it when he got home, he thought as he pulled his dark shirt down to cover the gauze.
Michael walked back out to take his seat, reaching it just as a wave of dizziness swept over him. It had to be the altitude making him dizzy. It wasn't the bullet wound… he was just exhausted.
"Hey, you okay?" Marcos asked when Michael stumbled and practically fell into his seat. He shrugged when the other man mumbled something about taking a nap before he slid to one side.
Michael felt his grip on consciousness slipping away and he knew he was losing the fight with the darkness trying to pull him under. Fuck, he thought as the darkness swept over him, this wasn't supposed to happen; he didn't wanna leave that Maria girl alone… It was his last coherent thought for several hours.