I Used to Be a Spy

Ready As I'll Ever Be

"How'd your date go?" Michael lifted a brow, and smiled as he watched his friend's face turn a slight shade of pink.
Bobbing his head, Hughes simply stated, "It went well."
Michael shrugged, "Must've been pretty nice. Haven't seen you this happy... ever."
Hughes rolled his eyes. "What's gotten into you?"
"I don't know. It's just nice to see you happy, I guess." Michael scratched the back of his head. He couldn't keep his old facade of not caring pinned on his face anymore. It was nice to care about people.
                                     +++++
Fiona yanked the blanket off of her but before she could drag herself from the warmth of the bed, Michael offered, "I'll go to her."
Fiona grunted a thank you and promptly drifted back asleep. Michael pulled the comforter back up to her shoulder and pecked her on the cheek.
Michael crept over to the bassinet and gingerly picked Ciara up and cradled the young infant. He mentally noted how small and fragile the young babe looked and felt in his arms, especially after working with strong and willful horses.
"Ciara," he whispered.
She stirred once more than accepted the pacifier he offered and she nuzzled her face into his chest. Emotion stirred in his heart, pure, unconditional love.
He couldn't fathom how this beautiful creature was his, yet he knew the moment she would open her icy blue eyes, there was no doubt she was his.
A calm settled over him. Perhaps everything in life would be alright.
                                     +++++
"My Elsa has never once said the word baby with such affection until now," Sam moaned. "I'm too old for something so needy and explosive."
Raising an eyebrow, Michael asked, "How old are you, Sam?"
"Oh brother, let's not talk about such horrifying things, alright? Give me a break," Sam glared at Michael.
"Okay Sam, let's talk about babies then," Michael offered.
Sam groaned and glanced back to Elsa who was holding Ciara. "I heard that Sam," Elsa warned, peering up at him with a playful grin.
Sam chuckled and held up his hands. Once Elsa turned her attention back to Fiona and Ciara, Sam asked, "Are you ready for the job?"
"I'm ready. Are you still okay with meeting him face to face?"
Sam picked up his beer from the counter and sipped it. "Ready as I'll ever be."
                                     +++++
Sam swatted the wires out of Hughes' extended hand. "There's no way I'm wearing that. If I get caught I'm dead. More dead than Kavanaugh."
"Well he's not dead," Hughes offered.
"He still washed up onto the shore. That's not a good day in my book," Sam countered, glaring at Hughes. He fixed his collar once more and firmly stated, "My way, Buddy, remember? C'mon Mike, why is he even here?"
"Hey should I start calling you Mike too? Is the cool American way better?" Hughes mocked.
"Both of you pull it together," Michael commanded.
"Fine. But what is your plan?" Hughes demanded.
"I'm going to copy his sim so this little phone will receive every call and text that he does," Sam bragged.
"You know you need a pin to pull out the SIM cards now, right?" Hughes prodded. "They aren't like the old burners where you take out the battery."
"I have a smartphone, I know that..." Sam glanced at Michael and the burner phone he held. "Though I'll admit it's been a while since I've taken apart a cell phone."
"Do you have another idea?" Hughes eyed Sam intently.
Sam rolled his eyes, "Of course. This puppy," he pulled out a second, old fashioned cell phone and continued, "is rigged to be a bug. That I can still do. It won't be as great as Intel, but it'll get the job done."
"Good Sam." Michael smiled.
"It'll do some good, anyway. Now don't get shot again, okay? I can't afford to explain to my higher ups how my PI keeps getting bullet holes." Hughes snickered.
Now Michael was the one to roll his eyes. "I won't get shot this time." He hoped this was true. He needed to go back to his family, alive.
"Now what do you want me to do?" Hughes rubbed his hands together, excited.
"Go to your date as planned," Michael lifted an eyebrow and grinned.
"Oh, okay," Hughes responded with a little redness on his face. Then suddenly he argued, "No, no. I can't be having fun while you two are with the most dangerous criminal on this side of Ireland."
"Trust me Hughes, it's for the best. We can't risk even a hint of police help here," Michael insisted.
Hughes appeared deflated but nodded understandingly.
                                     +++++
"Hey, I hope you don't mind, I plan on using Sam Axe still. Is that okay?" Sam asked, as they approached the large run down building.
"Sam we should've talked about this before walking up to the creepy building. What about Sam Smith?" Michael offered, nerves threatening to make his face twitch.
They had driven 30 minutes north to Bray and found O'Sullivan's hideout, or business office, next to the large casino.
"Sam Smith? Like the really cool singer?"
Michael sighed, "Or John."
"John? Like John Doe? I'd be asking him to dump my body into the ocean as fish bait, " Sam whined.
Sam yanked the door open and two bulky bodyguards stepped out, both had earwigs and clearly packing, as they flashed their pistols.
"You always come in pairs, don't you?" Sam taunted.
"Who are you?" The large blonde man on the left asked.
"Sam Axe," Sam replied smoothly.
Michael had to admit, it was the best fitting name for his friend. It rolled off his tongue with ease and commanded authority.
"Bring me to your boss, it's about Kavanaugh," Sam ordered.
The two bodyguards exchanged looks and the blonde sauntered into the building. A moment later he was back and motioning for them to follow.
Sam entered and Michael went to follow but the brunette bodyguard pressed a hard finger into Michael's chest. "He stays," the bodyguard stated.
Michael held in a whimper by biting his tongue and took in a shuttered breath.
"Absolutely not, I need protection," Sam boomed.
"Whatever, keep your gun in the holster," the blonde one ahead stated.
The brunette bodyguard shoved Michael and Michael stumbled forward. He reached back for his pistol, to appear as a hotheaded hired hand.
"Hey, you heard the man, no pistols," Sam gestured for Michael to calm down. "Stick to protecting me."
Michael obeyed but snarled back at the bodyguard behind him.
The hallway they walked through was poorly lit, the floors filthy and the walls stained with leaks. The perfect place for a notorious criminal. They approached two french doors and the blonde bodyguard poked his head in.
"Bring them in," a large voice boomed out from the room.
They stepped onto the carpet and entered the room. A tall dark haired man removed his feet from his desk, dropped a book onto that same spot and stood, surely almost 6'5".
His solemn expression eased and he joked, "I hang out in this crap hole because, who's gonna make it to my head to protect me, am I right?"
Michael was taken back by the man's humor but Sam jumped in with, "Good help is hard to find."
Sam stretched out his hand to shake the tall man's while sending a fake glare directed at Michael.
Michael stood expressionless, arms folded.
"Ha, ain't that the truth. Have a seat," the man gestured for Sam to sit across from him. He took a seat in his large cushioned chair himself.
"Thanks, I think I'm still a bit jet-lagged," Sam sat back and got comfortable.
"No, thank you for helping me with my problem," O'Sullivan sneered.
"Anytime," Sam smoothly replied. "Sorry to show up unannounced."
"After your last unofficial visit, I figure it's worth my time, mister..." He waited for Sam to fill in his name.
"Sam Axe. Unfortunately I don't have anything juicy for you this time, but I'm looking for a gig before I hit the States again." Sam rolled his shoulders back.
O'Sullivan nodded. "It's the least I could do, I suppose. What kinda skills are you working with?"
"Normally, I take people to a nice seafood restaurant... if you catch my drift."
O'Sullivan snorted, "I like that. I'm gonna use that."
Sam smiled unabashedly, Michael held in a groan. Surely he thought of that joke just for this occasion.
"I have plenty of people who I'd love for you to take out to dinner, believe me. Seems you've got connections and a good work ethic, so sure. There's one person I'd love to get a good lobster dinner. He's been hungering for seafood for a long time."
Sam leaned toward O'Sullivan and whispered not so quietly, "I might take this person you speak of and my bodyguard, he kinda sucks."
Both laughed obnoxiously and Michael shifted uncomfortably. He debated between scolding Sam after this or applauding him. Without any giveaway, Sam stuck the bugged phone on the underside of the desk.
"Here," the man pulled out a slip of paper, wrote down a name and handed the slip to Sam. "This man needs a good dinner. Call me when the job is done and I'll pay you."
"Ha, okay. Half now, half later."
Surprised, O'Sullivan lifted a brow. Bobbing his head, he admitted, "Well at least I know you're not a cop," a disturbing laugh came from the burly man. "You're a rascal that's for sure."
Sam echoed a similar maniacal laugh, "I just can't help myself. I'll see you soon after I have some wonderful lobster."
Sam stood and shook the man's hand once more. The man admitted, "I kinda like you. If you decide America isn't "all that" feel free to come back here and I'll find you more work."
Sam grinned, "I'll hold you to that."
Sam turned to leave and Michael followed, expressionless. Within he felt a raging fire wishing to lash out at such a despicable man, but refused to let it burn, not now anyway.