Part 53
The sun was pouring in through the patio doors when Maria woke up the next morning and she winced at the cramp in her neck from sleeping in the uncomfortable position. She looked down at the man lying on the couch next to her, head still resting in her lap as he slept deeply. The level of exhaustion he was exhibiting was the only explanation for him remaining asleep when she eased out from under him and propped his head up on one of the throw pillows.
She retrieved a light blanket from the linen closet, shaking it out and covering him with it, tucking it in around him before leaning over him to brush a kiss against his temple. He didn't stir through the entire process and she glanced over him one more time before going to take a quick shower so she could get breakfast started. He was sure to be hungry when he woke up, but even if he wasn't she was going to bully him into eating something because she was pretty certain that he hadn't eaten recently.
When Michael finally cracked his eyes open he knew without looking that it was already midmorning. He shifted, rolling over onto his back, and suddenly realizing that he was alone. The feeling of panic was immediate and he shoved himself to a sitting position as he looked around, trying to locate Maria. His heart rate began to return to normal and the panic started to recede when he heard the familiar sounds of her moving around the kitchen as she made breakfast.
He left the blanket lying over the back of the couch as he stood, running his hands through his hair as he padded into the kitchen. He felt something inside of him settle into place when he stepped into the room and he leaned against the doorframe for several minutes just to watch her as she moved around with confidence, singing along with the radio, and putting breakfast together.
After a few minutes he crossed the room to get a glass down from the cabinet, opening the refrigerator and pulling the pitcher of orange juice out, before walking over to sit on one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island. He filled his glass and set the pitcher aside, waiting for the inevitable questions now that she had noticed his presence.
"Are you doing okay?" Maria asked as her eyes traced over his rough features.
He shrugged and nodded, taking another drink of his juice. "Fine."
"I'm making breakfast." She winced as she stated the obvious and waited for the expected sarcastic remark. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Yeah, but, maybe just somethin' light though; I don't think my stomach's up to eatin' a heavy meal right now."
Maria nodded and studied the last batch of bacon that was nearly ready to take out of the pan. Making a quick decision she put away the makings for breakfast and replaced the items with a loaf of bread, lettuce, tomatoes, and mayonnaise. After a moment she opened the refrigerator again and reached into the bottom drawer to retrieve a fresh jalapeno. Instead of the large breakfast she had intended to make at first she settled on BLT's and chips in deference to his request for something light.
Michael watched her as she topped off his sandwich with sliced jalapenos and cut it diagonally before adding chips to his plate and setting it in front of him. He ate slowly and silently, pushing the plate back when he was finished and glancing over to see Maria picking at her food. He took a long drink of his orange juice to wash his food down and then stared into the glass as he forced the words to surface.
"Stone's dead."
Maria's head shot up and her gaze locked on him as she studied his expression, seeing the pain in his dark eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing that this wasn't easy for him. "What happened?"
He told her, giving her the abbreviated version of events; there was no reason to traumatize her with the details of the mission or Stone's death.
Maria listened attentively, horrified as he spoke of the mission; his partner's death, his journey to escape through the rebel-infested jungle as he carried her body. He was certain that the mission had been a ploy to get them out where Stone could be killed and she could hear the anger in his voice as he talked. Michael was a professional, he had the advantage of alien powers, and yet he had been unable to stop his partner, his friend, from dying in the middle of a jungle.
"You did your best, Michael," she said when he fell silent. He may have seen and done horrific things in the name of his job, but this had been traumatic for him.
"Didn't do any fuckin' good, did it?" he snapped as he poured another glass of juice. She's still dead."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but, if whoever put the hit out on Stone hadn't accomplished their mission in the jungle, wouldn't they have just come after her somewhere else at some other time?"
"The point is that I was there and she trusted me to have her back… and I failed her."
"How did you fail her, Michael? It sounds to me like she didn't blame you for what happened. You brought her back home to be buried beside Azrael; you kept your promise to her."
Michael looked at Maria, wondering what she would do if she knew what else he had promised Stone.
"Whoever killed her would've kept trying whether you were in the equation or not, and while I know it's little comfort now, at least she didn't die alone. You were with her and that's important…" She swallowed hard and looked down at her hands as she thought of her own experience with something similar. "You got to say goodbye, Michael, and it would've been even worse if you hadn't gotten that opportunity."
His gaze followed her hands as they picked along the edges of the tiles on the surface of the island and he knew she was thinking of her dead lover. He reached out to cover her hands, stopping the nervous movements and he shook his head when she looked at him. "Don't go back there," he said quietly.
He backed away and retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom, wondering if he had been speaking literally or figuratively. He pushed that thought aside as he focused on what she had said about Stone's assassin; she was right, if the hit hadn't been successful there would've been another attempt, and another, until the job had been completed. In their line of work failure wasn't an option and that rule wasn't any different for assassins.
Michael stretched out on his bed, lying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated what Maria had said. He closed his eyes after a while and he let his thoughts wander over the mission and Maria's advice… his mind went back and forth and at some point he began to feel drowsy.
He felt the air shift subtly when Maria stepped into his room without making a sound and he could almost feel her indecision as she stared at him from the doorway. The edge of the mattress dipped as she sat down on the bed and he gave it several seconds before he shifted over in silent invitation.
Maria sighed in relief when he made the gesture and she laid down beside him, offering him comfort in the form of her presence that he accepted without question.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Michael paced as he waited to be called into the office for his meeting with Xavier. He had gotten the phone call that morning and the man's secretary had told him to be there at two sharp that afternoon. He glanced up when the door to the interior office opened and a moment later Xavier's secretary stepped out with an armful of folders.
"He'll see you now, Mr. Guerin."
Michael went inside, pausing on the other side of the doorway as he waited for the old man's instructions.
Xavier sat in his high-backed leather chair behind an ornately carved mahogany desk. "Come inside, Guerin; close that door on your way." He didn't look up from the reports he was signing off on until the operative sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "You'll be at the funeral tomorrow?"
"I'll be there," Michael answered shortly.
Xavier nodded in appreciation and silence fell over the office while the man was busy writing down notes in the reports. "Keep an eye out for Hawkins," he said without raising his head.
Michael's eyes narrowed at Xavier's veiled advice. "That little bastard's no threat to me."
Xavier closed the report he was working on with an audible snap and then tossed it on his desk before looking at Michael directly and meeting his defiant gaze. "That little bastard believes he was in love with Stone; he was in here earlier demanding to be on the team sent in to take out her assassin and he wasn't happy when I had him removed from my office."
Michael sat up straighter. "I wasn't aware the assassin had been identified."
The answer was short and showed no mercy. "You won't be assigned to the team either, Guerin; the Company will deal with this in a quick and clean manner."
Michael knew what that meant. One of his agents had been murdered and Xavier had given the green light to kill anyone involved, even if it meant erasing an entire village from existence. "You're sendin' in a whole team… you're plannin' to take out all the players."
Xavier looked at Michael, and the old man's eyes were calm. He was in charge and he knew his job and the politics of the Company. "This organization does not simply roll over after an attack; Stone's death will be avenged. From the Intel we've gathered it's become apparent that the hit was financed by an arms dealer in South America as retaliation; she was responsible for the loss of one of the most integral parts of his organization last year. Not to mention the embarrassment factor involved when he lost face with his clients. Unfortunately, our undercover Op received compromised information from his source before this last mission and because the mission was pushed through the way that it was, we lost a damn good operative."
Michael nodded. He understood the situation. The Company wasn't going to allow his agents to be ambushed without retaliation. There would be a price to pay. "So, you're makin' it official?"
"The hunt to bring down everyone involved in Stone's murder is underway and you will not be involved in any part of that process; that is official. I will not make any exceptions in this case, Guerin." Xavier started to play with a gold-plated pen, twisting it between his fingers as he watched Michael.
The old man's deep, analyzing stare was making Michael uncomfortable and he tried not to move, knowing it would only reveal his discomfort.
"I don't know how you survived that mission, whether it was sheer luck or something else. Realistically, I should be burying two operatives tomorrow instead of just one, so until this threat has been contained you will not be assigned to another mission. Marcos is under orders to refuse any requests you make for work as well."
Michael released a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding when the head of the Company finally moved past the how-did-Guerin-survive question. But, wait, stuck at home? For how long? "What the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Xavier waved his hand, unconcerned with what Guerin did on his own time. "Do something completely unexpected, Guerin; take a vacation, visit a friend, spend a few days in bed with a couple of wild women… I don't really give a damn what you do as long as you stay off the radar." He stood up and walked to his window, admiring the view. He waited until he heard the operative get up out of his chair and walk to the door before he spoke again. "Just watch your back around Hawkins. I don't doubt that you can handle him but he made the mistake of getting emotionally involved and that makes him dangerous and unpredictable."
Michael thought about the old man's warning as he left the office and walked outside and down the steps to where he had left his motorcycle parked at the curb. He understood Xavier's reasoning for pulling his name from the duty roster and despite his desire for revenge he couldn't fault the decision because it was sound. Didn't mean he had to like it though, he thought.
He threw his right leg over the seat and stared at the key in his hand for several minutes as he wondered what to do with all of the free time that he suddenly had on his hands. He was used to having free time, but it was always on his terms, so this was completely new and other than the funeral the next day he had no plans to fall back on. He shoved the thought of Stone's funeral away along with all of Xavier's suggestions of what he could do with his time and his mind automatically shifted to Maria.
She had been a comforting presence since he had returned home several nights before and she had been careful to avoid pushing him or making him feel as if she expected something from him. He glanced at his watch, noting that by the time he got home she would be putting dinner on the table. She had told him that she was going to run to the store to pick up something for dinner but she wouldn't tell him what it was and now he had to wonder what tasty treat she had in store for him.
He shook his head as he started the motorcycle and eased out into the early afternoon traffic. Maybe he should stop and pick up a movie on the way home. If he got really lucky, he might be able to convince her to have dinner in the living room while watching the movie.