Dangerous Liaisons

By WritePassion

Fiona Glenanne sat at their table, a wide brimmed sun hat shading her from the searing mid-morning rays. She looked around, surprised that she was the first to arrive. Usually Sam was there first, with drinks waiting, charged to his tab that must have been astronomical. He was between rich lady friends for awhile now, so his pension, and his share of the take from their odd jobs, was just keeping him afloat in a small apartment. While she held a professional respect for him, despite their rocky history starting with an arms sale to some Libyans that Sam thwarted, she found it hard to admire the ease with which he seemed to jump from one bed to another. Every time, he swore this was 'the one' and that he would never find another like her.

Yet these relationships always ended, and Sam seemed to be like the proverbial cat landing back on his feet. As she sipped on her ice water, she contemplated this. Why could she and Michael stay together through good times and bad, and Sam couldn't hang onto a woman if his life depended upon it? As she mentally ticked off the number of lady friends Sam had in the past four years, and how each relationship ended, one thing became clear. The main reason they broke it off was his dedication to Michael and the jobs that they took on, which often called for large chunks of his time.

I don't know why I never saw that before! She smiled, pleased with herself that she'd figured it out. When it came down to it, he and Michael were cut from the same cloth. The job was the thing, and if duty left a woman waiting all night, alone, so be it. He couldn't commit any better than Michael. He wasn't getting any younger, and some day Sam would learn that the course he took would leave him alone and lonely. If it weren't for the fact that Fiona loved Michael Westen with her whole heart, he and Sam would be in that boat together.

Her devotion to Michael was what brought her to Carlito's to wait for the three men in her life. Man number three appeared at that moment with an apologetic smile that lit up his face and made his brown eyes dance. If it weren't for Michael, she might have taken a dip into more than those eyes.

"Hi Fi, sorry I'm late. I had something to take care of at the office, but I'm free for the next few days." He sat across from Fiona and glanced at the two empty chairs. "Hey, where are Michael and Sam?"

"Jesse, you're not that late. It's nice that some people show up relatively on time." She glanced at her watch. "As for those other two, I have no idea, and I'm getting pretty tired of waiting."

"Think we should order?"

"For us. Let Michael and Sam fend for themselves."

As their coffee arrived, Michael strode across the street in the same clothes he left the loft wearing last night. Sam at least had the decency to change, although she wasn't sure the khaki pants and bright orange shirt with palm fronds was an improvement to the suit he wore last night. He brought up the rear behind Michael and wore a bright, cheerful grin.

"Good mornin' everybody! It's a great day, isn't it?" Sam sat at the table and raised his arm to get the server's attention. "Coffee's on me!"

"You're in an awfully good mood today," Michael said as he crossed his arms on the table. "Unlike some of us who spent the night in practically every club in South Beach looking for Tony Romo."

"Well...gee, Mikey, you could have asked. One of us would have come along." Sam took a long draw on his steaming mug.

"Oh, but I didn't want to disturb you, Sam. You seemed to be pretty...wrapped up...in the arms of some lady friend at about, oh, eleven o'clock last night."

Sam laughed nervously. "Oh yeah, that would be Claudia. She's my new lady love."

Fiona snorted. "And how many minutes will that last?"

He gave Fiona a withering look. "Come on, Fi. You of all people should know when true love hits you right between the eyes." Then he grinned. "Yes, lady and gentlemen, it's finally happened to me. I...am...seriously...in...love." After one more sip he set his cup down as if to add an exclamation point to his words.

Fiona smiled with a skeptical smirk on her lips. "After one night. She must be good."

"Hey, you have no idea." If it were possible, it seemed as if his grin amped up another hundred watts.

"Well...congratulations, Sam." Michael eyed his friend, and then his glance slid Fiona's way, slightly disguised behind his sunglasses. He didn't believe it any more than she did.

"Yeah, Sam. Way to go, man." Jesse offered his own congratulations.

"Thank you. And the beauty of it is, she understands that I have to work. It's not like she's going to demand all my attention, not like those other women. It's great!"

"Right." Michael grinned. "Speaking of work, while you were out meeting Ms. Right, I was tracking down some leads."

"And," Fiona asked with an impatient tone to her voice. She'd already spent valuable time waiting for this.

"Tony is planning something big. This goes beyond just drugs, we're talking guns and ammo, enough to outfit a third world country's rebel militia."

Sam leaned his crossed arms on the table, his expression showing that he was riveted on this turn of events. "What are you thinking, Mike? Is he planning on going south to his source and taking over?"

"Sounds logical to me," Jesse said as he reached for the creamer. "Get rid of the middleman, more profit for Tony."

"This is great, but what are we going to do about it?"

Everyone turned to Michael, who smiled thinly. "I'm working on a plan. Let's meet this afternoon. In the meantime, I want everyone to keep their ears to the ground and an eye out for anything that might pertain to this case."

"I'll be here. Give me a ring when you're ready." Jesse glanced at his watch, took one last sip of his coffee, and headed for his car.

"You got it, Mikey." Sam drained his cup and stood.

"Where are you off to, Sam?" Fiona asked, although she could guess.

"I left some unfinished business with Claudia." He grinned, turned on his heel, and sauntered back to his car, an uncool Neon that they'd used in several jobs.

Any day now, she suspected, he would be rolling up in a Cadillac or something equally elegant.

In between meetings with his friends and spending time researching Tony Romo and his gang of thugs, Sam spent all his free time with Claudia. She was almost too good to be true. Of all the women he knew, she was the one who could make him think about finally settling down, and he knew this in a matter of a few days. She liked a lot of the same things he did. She knew how to shoot and nearly bested him at the range. And to top it off, she looked hot in a bikini, even though she was no spring chicken. Poolside, it riled him that younger guys were checking her out, but in the end he soothed himself with the knowledge that he would be taking her home tonight. She didn't even mind going to his place. Some of his other lady friends wouldn't have been caught dead in his modest digs, but Claudia felt perfectly at home there, maybe even more so than in her own sprawling mansion.

Her looks, her down to earth personality, her passion for life...they were all reasons to love her, and Sam fell hard. Not since Amanda had he ever felt this way for another woman. She was almost enough to make him retire from the civilian spy business, move across the country, and settle in some out of the way place in the mountains. Just her and him and the wilderness. He knew she would thrive in such an environment, because in between moments of passion, they actually talked about things. That was a real switch for him.

Sam woke up late. The sun shone through the blind slats and scattered beams of light across the rumpled sheets. He lay sprawled across the bed, face down, and cautiously opened one eye. The pillow beside him was empty, which brought his head up abruptly. He glanced around the room, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Claudia?"

He turned to his side and his eyes roved around his bedroom, hoping to find a sign that she'd even been there. His last thought last night as she lay in his arms was that she might be a figment of his imagination, and now he was really worried that he may have been right. Then he spied one of her high heeled wedge sandals on the carpet, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was somewhere in the apartment, being quiet. He grinned. Maybe it was some kind of game she was playing.

As he dragged himself out of bed, he reached for his robe and put it on while crossing the room. The bedroom door was open, and he glanced down the hall. From his vantage point he could see the living room, dining area, and kitchen, and she wasn't in any of them.

"Where could she be," he muttered to himself. Her purse lay on the coffee table where she discarded it the night before. The only other place she could be was in the second bedroom that he used as an office and storage space. That thought sent alarms off in his head.

As he passed the bathroom, he saw a quick movement from inside, which he turned to face head on. He didn't expect Claudia to come flying out at him. She pinned him against the wall with a dull thud.

"Morning, Sammy," she purred and ravaged his neck with kisses.

She smelled really good, like cinnamon and chai tea. Her lips found his, and any worry he may have had about what she was up to melted away. For such a small woman, she was strong, but he managed to regain control of his arms, which he wrapped around her. She pushed herself against him, found his lips, and pressed her own against his with such intensity, he thought he would drown in her.

When he finally was able to come up for air, Sam declared breathlessly, "I can't think of a better way to be greeted in the morning." Then he surprised Claudia. He ducked, caught her behind the legs and picked her up. She giggled as he carried her back to the bedroom, delving into her lips all the way.

It was almost noon before the rapture wore off. Claudia drifted off to sleep, but he didn't want to wake her. He had to meet Mike and Fi at the loft at noon, he was already painfully late, and it would take at least twenty minutes to get there if he were even ready to leave. Reluctantly he pulled his arm from beneath her neck and slipped from the bed with a groan as he watched her sleep. She was gorgeous even in her disheveled state. He kissed two fingers and gently placed them to her lips. She didn't even stir. Then he pulled some fresh clothes from the closet and dresser, and hurried off to the bathroom to try to make himself at least half presentable.

He broke a few traffic laws, but Sam made it to Michael's twenty five minutes late. He hurried in with a peace offering - a six pack of yogurt he bought the day before and had stored in his fridge. Claudia might miss them, but this was urgent.

"You're late, Sam."

"Sorry, Mike. I, uh, got detained." He ran a hand through his still damp hair.

Fiona smirked at him, but she didn't say anything about his being so tardy. "He brought yogurt, Michael. At least someone thinks about keeping up our supply." She pulled the containers from the bag and placed them in the refrigerator, and then she grabbed one for herself. "Thank you for being so thoughtful, Sam. I think Claudia is proving to be a good influence on you."

Michael gave her a look. "Okay, now that you're here, let's get down to business. Jesse is out working some contacts. He has a lead on when Romo is going to use all his resources, so he's looking into that some more."

"I contacted a few of my arms dealer friends, and apparently Tony has been a busy boy. He bought some high powered rifles from one of them a couple of weeks ago, and said they were being shipped to Columbia. That's where Tony's men will be using them." Fi smiled. "So now we know when, and a general where. But why?"

"My guys came up with nothing," Sam replied as he sat on the stool next to Fiona. "Chatter on this is non-existent, so whoever he's got working for him is keeping a low profile until everything goes down." He looked at Michael intently. "We need someone working on the inside."

"And he knows who we all are. Great."

Sam cringed. "I really hate to say this, but...what about Nate?"

"Nate?" Michael stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"I don't like it any more than you Mike, but who else do we have?" Sam shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge. After a statement like that, he needed one.

"Does he even have a passport," Fiona asked and sucked on her spoon. "We need someone who can leave the country for a little while."

"You're right, Fi. As far as I know, Nate doesn't have a passport, so he's out." He glanced at Sam, relieved that he didn't have to involve his brother.

"Don't worry, Mike. I know a guy we can trust. His name is Calvin Sanborn, another ex-SEAL like me..."

"Oh great," Fiona muttered.

Sam glared at her and continued without missing a beat. "As I said, he's equipped to handle just about anything, and he's been looking for some kind of...work."

"Work?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"What can I say?" Sam grinned. "You can take the man out of the SEALs, but you can't take the SEAL out of the man. He misses the action." Then he turned serious. "We can trust him. He'll be only too happy to help on this operation and keep things mum. I can vouch for this guy."

"Okay, call your friend and have him meet us at Carlito's tomorrow morning nine a.m." Michael turned toward the door. "Fi, you and I need to gather up our resources and arrange transportation to Columbia."

Fiona grinned and slipped off her stool, leaving her cleaned out yogurt cup and spoon behind. "I can hardly wait. It's been awhile since I've blown up something south of the equator."

When Sam entered his apartment, he was happy to see Claudia there. As he pulled his key from the lock and closed the door, he grinned and said, "Hi honey, I'm home!"

Claudia turned from the stove, gave him a warm smile and laughed. "I bet you've always wanted to say that."

He thought about it for a moment and nodded, and with a serious tone answered, "You know, I did." He crossed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her and nestled into her neck. "Hey baby, I missed you."

"Nonsense, Sam. You were off with your friends plotting something, weren't you?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I wasn't thinking of you all day."

Despite him nibbling on her ear, she stirred the red sauce bubbling in a saucepan, lifted the spoon and tasted it. "Here, try this. I think it's missing something."

He took a taste off the spoon and mulled it over for a few seconds. "Not spicy enough. I like spice." He kissed her cheek and left a little sauce there. "Sorry." He grabbed a towel from the counter and swiped it away.

Claudia laughed. "Maybe you better just grab a beer and sit down, or this supper will never get done."

"Who says we have to eat in? Besides, I'm hungry for something else right now." He grinned and held her closer, up against his body, leaving no second guessing what was on his mind.

"I suppose the sauce could use a little...simmering..." She reached for the oregano, shook some into the sauce, and stirred. "There. That should sit awhile." Claudia turned in his grip, wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned. "Time for a little appetizer, eh?"

"Sounds good." He took possession of her lips and wouldn't let go, and she gave as good as she got. As they made their way to the bedroom, they stayed locked by the lips, while their hands undressed each other and left a trail of clothing all the way to the other room.

It was dark in the apartment when Sam woke and thought he smelled something burning. He sat up with a start. Claudia lay undisturbed beside him. Carefully, he slipped out of bed and padded his way to the kitchen where he found the light over the stove was still on. The pot of red sauce was woefully cooked out and the remains adhered themselves to the sides in a burnt mess. He turned off the heat, grabbed the pot, and laid it in the sink to fill up with water and soak. It was a shame to lose such a good sauce, but it was worth it. He smiled to himself as he recalled last night and got a pot of coffee going.

He was glad to get some serious lovemaking time with Claudia, because today they would be putting their plan in motion. He might not see her for awhile. She wouldn't know where he was or what he was doing, because once they left the country, all communication with those back home would cease until their mission was completed. It was like the old days. A flash of memory, of Amanda, flooded his brain, and he wondered how Claudia would take this. He hoped she would do better than Amanda, who ran off with his best friend while he was on a mission.

Claudia's barefooted steps echoed against the hall walls as she came into the kitchen. "Sammy, you're up. What time is it?"

"It's early." He took her in his arms and savored the softness and scent of her. "I-I've gotta go in a little while. I'm going to be away for awhile..."

"How long is 'awhile'?"

"Don't know. Just until we get this thing taken care of."

She looked up at him, deep into his eyes. "Is this going to be dangerous?"

He gave her a cocked grin. "I'm working with Michael Westen. What do you think?"

"Oh Sam, don't be so...so cavalier about it!" She pushed out of his arms and took a step back. "I was afraid this was going to happen when you told me about these 'jobs' you and Michael, Fiona, and Jesse did. Some day you're going to get in over your heads and you'll be killed." Tears filled her eyes and she locked her gaze on him. "I thought I was okay with all this, but...I need to know where you're going, that you'll be safe."

"Honey, I can't tell you. I wish I could." He retrieved her and kissed her until she melted into his arms. "I promise I'll stay safe."

"You can't promise that when bad people want to hurt you." Her words came out muffled from his collarbone.

Sam raised his eyes to the ceiling, then clamped them shut. This was always the hardest part when dealing with loved ones: trying to make them understand that you couldn't stay and avoid the risk. "I have to do this, Claudia. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you just how bad these guys are. If we take them down, a lot of people are going down with them, and we'll be disrupting a major source of drugs and guns in the Miami area."

"Are you going to South America? Columbia?"

He tried to keep the surprise from his face, but it was too late. She saw it. "There's more to it than just where we're going."

"I suppose." She sighed dramatically. "If you really have to do this, the least you could do is give a girl something to remember you by." Her bright smile, the one that attracted Sam's attention to begin with, flashed along with the sparkle in her eyes.

He groaned. There was no way he could resist that come-on. Forgetting the coffeemaker, which gurgled its last ounce of hot brew, he kissed her and retreated into a state of passion that they would both remember for a long time.

"Well, Sam. Nice to see you early again." Fiona greeted Sam as he stepped out of his car and approached the loft. Fiona slammed the trunk on the Charger, her gear stored inside.

"I got my business taken care of early," he replied and squinted as he surveyed the area. "Did my buddy Cal show up yet?"

"I haven't seen anyone. What does he look like?"

"About my height, really close cropped hair, blonde, well-built." He heard the sound of gravel crunching and turned. With a grin, he said, "Ah, here he is right now!"

Calvin parked at the curb and walked over to the gate that separated Michael's loft from the club downstairs and the patrons that hung out every night. The two men grinned at each other and easily gave hearty man hugs when they met.

"Sam, it's great to see you! Seems like it's been forever."

"Yeah, same here, Cal. Never thought I'd see your face again. Where have you been, man?"

"Here and there." He gave Sam a knowing smile.

"You're a mercenary then?" Fiona stood close by, eyeing Calvin up and down. "Working for the highest bidder?"

"I work for the good old US of A, ma'am," Calvin answered coolly. "And what I've been doing lately is on a need to know basis." He looked her up and down, smirked, and added, "You don't look like someone who has a need to know."

"Cal, it doesn't matter. Fi's just...she's curious, that's all."

"If you're worried about where my loyalties lie, don't be. After my country come my friends. So if Sam calls and says you people need help, I'm going to do what I can to assist. I'm all in."

"Okay. We can definitely use the help."

Michael joined them at the foot of the stairs and introductions went all around. "Great to have you on board, Calvin."

"You can call me Cal, Mike." The corner of Calvin's mouth tipped up for a brief second.

"Okay, Cal." Michael handed him an airplane ticket. "Your job in this is to go down to Columbia with Sam, stakeout the intel Jesse was able to get us, and we'll follow tomorrow. We want you to try to infiltrate the group, get in their confidence, and find out what's going on. When we arrive, we'll work on a plan to take down whatever they're planning."

"You make it sound so easy." Calvin glanced at Sam, then Michael, Fiona and Jesse.

"Sam vouched for your ability to blend in, so if you're as good as he says, we won't have a problem, will we?"

"No. No problem at all." He answered with a confident grin. "Let's do it!"

"Sam, you'll accompany Cal. Just lay low until he gets in."

"You got it, Mike."

Michael gave Sam his ticket and an envelope stuffed with cash, which he shoved into his pants pocket. "Hasta manana, Mikey!" He gave his friends a salute and turned with Calvin to retrieve his duffel bag from the back of his car. Traveling to another country without even a handgun for protection made Sam feel naked, but he knew that once they were there, the cash would assist them in obtaining some hardware. Then they would figure out how to get Calvin into the circle of Romo's men and scope out the situation. With a soft sigh, Sam anticipated he would be spending a lot of time in the cantina in the central city waiting for Calvin, Michael and his friends. Not glamorous, but sometimes that was the only way to get the scuttle on what was going on around town. While his Spanish wasn't the best, he knew enough to pick up on the spirit of what was being said, so playing the adventurous tourist who didn't know a lick of the language would serve him well.

"Sam, you're not gonna believe this," Calvin announced that afternoon. He joined Sam at the cantina, casually sitting at an empty table so he was nearly shoulder to shoulder with Sam, who kept himself hidden behind a newspaper.

"Try me."

"I've got nothing on Romo's team, but I found something even better...the camp that Romo is most likely to hit."

Sam turned his head to eye his friend. "No way."

"Yeah. It's out in the middle of nowhere, in a valley that's hard to get to. But I got in while talking with some guys who knew some guys, and they were interested in recruiting a couple of Americans."

"So you got us in? Great job, I knew we could count on you, man." He grinned. "Looks like I'll owe you that mojito when we get back."

Calvin laughed. "You owed me that a long time ago, Sam. So let's make it two."

Sam nodded and snapped the newspaper shut. "You've got it. See you back at the hotel."

Sam didn't know that in the time since he'd last seen his friend, Calvin became fluent in Spanish. This proved to be a major asset and helped him get into the character needed to infiltrate the group that Romo intended to hit. It was almost too easy, and with talk about money for arms, they quickly found themselves set up for a business meeting with Renaldo, the leader, the next day. After a particularly long night downing cervesas and other local libations with their new pals, Cal and Sam crashed in their motel room. With no air conditioning it was hot and sticky, but neither of them found it a deterrent to sleeping.

Having the nose of a machine gun shoved into your face early in the morning, however, would definitely spoil anyone's slumber.

"What the...hey, what's going on here?" Sam lay on his back, staring up at a stranger who looked as if he'd rather just pull the trigger and be done with it. But then he heard a string of Spanish. He could pick out a few words, enough to know that they weren't about to become another statistic. "Cal?"

"Looks like our meeting got moved up, bud." Cal spoke from his position on the other bed. He slowly sat up, and two pairs of arms grabbed his and quickly fastened them behind his back. "Let's just roll with it, and see where they're taking us."

"I don't like this plan...but I guess we've got no choice, huh?"

"You have a choice, Mr. Axe. You come with us, or you die here." A clear voice spoke impeccable English, and both captives turned to the sound. A short man with a slim build wrapped in a fashionable white suit and lavender shirt entered the room with an armed escort. He spoke Spanish, and their armed guards shoved the two men out of the room.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, and for his curiosity, he met the hard stucco wall.

"In due time you will know everything. For now, we will wait for your friends to arrive and we'll all have a nice...little...chat."

"We don't know what you're talking about," Cal declared. "What friends?"

"Don't play me for stupid, Mr. Sanborn." His voice was calm and cool, full of undercurrents of anger and fury. "You all thought you could destroy us from within, but..." His smile was more like a grimace as he held back his emotions. "Come. We have a nice party waiting for you all, to seal the deal on your fates."

The gunmen pushed Sam and Cal ahead of them as they emerged from the hallway into a small lobby. They glanced at each other, and when Sam nodded, barely perceptibly, he and Cal turned as one and head butted the first two in line behind them. Unfortunately, with hands tied behind their backs, they were at a distinct disadvantage. Their attempt to escape was a valiant try, but they were quickly taken down with a blow to the head and a sedative.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Fiona pulled off her large framed sunglasses and stared at the two-story stucco building. Cracks and mold marred the surface, and she wrinkled her nose at the smells of dirt and day old tamales some poor old man sold at the street corner.

"Sorry it's not five star, Fi, but it's the most convenient place to find the location of Romo's private militia." Michael checked his phone one last time. He'd been expecting to hear from Sam, but he didn't even leave a voicemail. Something wasn't right, and he hoped that they would soon discover what happened. He hoped that silence meant the two successfully infiltrated themselves into the group and were deep in the jungle at Romo's location. But that didn't help the rest of the team from where they waited.

"Still no word, huh." Jesse's voice was low as he sidled up to Michael.

He shook his head. "Not a word. Let's see if we can get into their room, find out if they left anything for us, and then we can try tracking them."

Fiona approached with two sets of keys and handed one to Jesse. With a devious smile, she said, "I managed to get us rooms on each side of Sam and Calvin's."

"Good job, Fi. It'll make it easier to get in." Michael took the key from Fiona and led them down the hall toward their rooms. At the door, he spoke. "Jesse, as soon as you sweep the room and determine it's safe, come over to ours."

"Okay. Be right there." With a click, his door opened and he entered the room.

Michael and Fiona quickly searched their room for listening devices or anything that might be a trap. About the time they determined their room was clean, Jesse knocked on the door.

"Everything's good over at my place."

"Nothing out of the ordinary here," Fiona answered as she noted a cockroach crawling along the base of the wall, burrowing into the carpet. She shivered. "The only bugs around here crawl."

"Lucky us, there's an adjoining door to Sam's room." Michael approached the door against the shared wall and tried the knob. Naturally, it was locked. The room key opened their side, but the door on Sam's side would not open without the correct key.

Fiona stepped up with her tool kit and handed it to him. "Let's make this quick, Michael." A concerned look crossed her face. "I have a very bad feeling about this."

He nodded, selected the tools he needed, and worked on the lock. It only took a few seconds to break in. Cautiously, he swung the door into the room.

"Anybody in there?"

"No, Jesse. Coast is clear," Michael replied and led their small group inside. "Let's fan out, see if we can find anything."

The room looked as if either the maid hadn't been through yet, or there was no maid service. The sheets were rumpled on the beds, but they didn't really look slept in. Their bags were still packed, sitting on the floor near a desk. Jesse approached it and found a folded up piece of paper tucked into the corner of a drawer. The desk chair was in front of it, making it hard to see from a casual glance. He tugged on it, and it came loose. Then he unfolded it and read the message.

"Mike, looks like they were supposed to have a meet with some guy named Renaldo at 11 this morning." He handed Michael the note.

"This is Sam's handwriting." He read it and noted a bunch of nonsensical scribbling at the bottom that looked more like doodling than anything relevant.

"What is that at the bottom?"

Michael studied the scribbling, then smiled. He recognized it almost immediately. "It's where they're headed, latitude and longitude."

"They must have known things were going to get dicey before they were taken, or Sam wouldn't have had time to leave this note."

Fiona nodded and smiled. "I'll get my map and we'll find them in no time." She disappeared into the other room and should have returned in a matter of seconds, but when she didn't, Michael and Jesse glanced at each other. The sound of a semi-automatic being cocked got their attention.

"Mr. Weston, Mr. Porter. We've been expecting you. My name is Reynaldo." The man in the white suit nodded to his cohorts, and they rushed forward with guns drawn. They moved so quickly and smoothly that neither Michael nor Jesse had time to reach for their arms and use them. The last thing Jesse remembered was a hard, heavy object slamming into the side of his skull, and he dropped to the floor stunned. Michael turned on the man who tried to attack him, but the gunman slammed the butt of his automatic against his head, and he joined Jesse on the floor.

Michael's head pounded, a sensation he wasn't exactly a stranger to, since it was a regular occupational hazard in the spy business. He allowed himself a little time to recover, keeping his eyes closed, using his other senses to determine where they were. Muffled voices spoke Spanish. Leaves rustled in the trees, and a sound like palm fronds scraping against a rough surface were the main pieces of auditory information he detected. His hands were bound behind his back and he sat in a chair. He scuffed his shoes along the floor and determined that it was made of dirt. A scent of heavily seasoned meat roasting over an open fire hung in the air, mixed with the odor of other people sweltering in the stale air inside wherever they were being kept. He tried to move his hands as far as his binding would take him, and he made contact with other hands. They were too big to be Fi's.

"Hey!"

"Sam?"

"You keep doing that Mikey, and I'm gonna start to wonder about you," Sam declared with a joking lilt to his voice.

"Sorry, Sam. Just wondering who was here with me." When Michael opened his eyes, it was dark. "Where are we, and what time is it?"

"My best guess is we're at Reynaldo's hideout, and it's sometime during dusk."

"The sun went down about a half hour ago," Cal responded from somewhere across the room. "Jeez, you guys sure took long enough to come to."

"Sam, where are Jesse and Fiona?"

"I wish I knew Mike."

"Cal? Have you seen them?"

Cal struggled against his bindings. "I saw them take Fiona out to their little party. Not sure where Jesse is." He growled in frustration and kicked at the dirt floor. "We've got to get a plan and rescue them, preferably blowing up as much of this compound as possible, and get away. We need Fiona. I understand she's the expert in things that go boom."

"Yes, she is." Michael glanced out the open window and saw a full moon rising. "Even if we got away, we'd be at a disadvantage in the moonlight."

"So what are you saying, we just sit here until they decide to execute us? No way! Sam, come on. Side with me here on this. We've gotta kick some butt and blow this joint."

"Mike's right. There's going to be too much light, we won't get far. Our best bet is to stick around here until everyone is in the same room. That way we leave no man behind when we do break out. Got it?"

Over his shoulder, Michael glanced at Cal. He could barely see Sam's profile, and he noticed the intense, determined set of his jaw. He was impressed. Apparently old friends weren't the best friends. Sam would rather follow Michael's plan over his old buddy Cal's any day.

"So what's your brilliant plan, Westen?"

"We wait like Sam said, until Fiona and Jesse are with us. In the meantime, find a way to loosen our bindings, so we can jump whoever brings them in here. Then we'll confiscate their weapons and, if we can't get our hands on a set of wheels...we'll just disappear into the jungle."

"You make it sound so easy peasy just like your last plan," Cal responded and snorted. "And look how well that worked. This one ain't gonna work either."

"How do y..." Michael stopped when he heard footsteps nearing the shelter.

Fiona and Jesse came through the door, their hands tied with rope. The gunmen behind them gave each one a good shove, causing them to lose their balance and tumble into the room. Fiona gasped as her knee scraped along a rock in the dirt. Jesse let out a puff of air and groaned. Their captors backed out of the room and slammed the door, then locked it securely. The windows were not an option, as a tall, well-built body moved past with a weapon held up at the ready.

"Okay, we're all here. Now what?"

From the floor, Fiona worked to get herself into a sitting position and exclaimed, "You know Sam, I thought you could whine with the best of them, but this guy...he takes the cake."

"I don't whine," Sam protested. "You wanna hear about whining, sister, remember that time you..."

"Kids...kids, stop fighting!" Michael felt Sam's shoulder brush his as his friend sat back in his chair. At least he kept his mouth shut. "Let's concentrate on coming up with a way to get out of here, since Cal doesn't seem to like my plan."

"My plan would include lots of C4," Fiona responded, and Michael imagined her pouting because she didn't have any at the moment. "But in a pinch, I just need a few chemicals."

"No, Fi. We're in a confined place, and we don't want to risk blowing up any of our team...no matter how much you think they deserve it." His eyes found her in the waning light as she shrugged and pushed herself into a sitting position against a bed.

Jesse got to his feet and sat in an empty chair near Cal. "So what are we going to do? Those guys keep coming past the window often enough that it'll be pretty hard to break free of these ropes."

"We need some kind of distraction." Michael leaned forward, working his arms up from behind the chair, trying to avoid hitting Sam in the head.

"Mike, watch it!" Sam leaned forward as Michael made contact with his elbow, but avoided a collision with Sam's shoulder.

"Sorry, Sam. Just trying to get...comfortable."

"Just don't pull my arms off while you're doing it!"

Michael halted his movements as he suddenly realized... "We're tied together."

"Yeah. I figured that out awhile ago, and I've been trying to loosen the ropes. If we stood up..."

"And turned to face each other, we can work on these better."

Jesse warned, "Make it fast, guys, because our friend outside comes around often enough to see you up to something."

"Okay, on three, Sam. One."

"Two."

"Three." As if they were one unit, both he and Sam stood up, took a side step away from the chairs, and by stepping through the loop created by their arms, Michael was able to turn himself around to face Sam. "Let's turn a little toward the window so we can see."

When the moon lit their captors' handiwork, they were able to see the complicated knots and threading used to keep them joined. Without a word from either of them, they worked together to twist their hands, stretch the ropes, and pull and push until they were almost free.

Fiona hissed. "He's coming!"

In one fluid movement, they threw their arms up over their heads, turned, and sat in their chairs. The guard stopped and gave them a funny look.

Sam grinned and said, "Buonas noches."

He gave Sam a sneer and continued on his way. As soon as he was gone, they repeated the process of standing and working on the ropes. In desperation, Sam grabbed a piece in his teeth and pulled it out of an especially stubborn knot.

"Brilliant," Michael praised as the ropes fell away.

Sam gave him a cocky grin. "Just got lucky, I guess."

They quickly moved around the room and untied their companions, but as soon as they heard footsteps, they returned to their seats to pretend they were still captive. The guard barely looked their way.

"Okay, now we just have to wait until they switch guards." Michael spoke and massaged his sore wrists. "There should be a short window of opportunity for us to make a break for it."

"If we could get to the frame under this mattress, we would have some instant weapons," Fiona added as she ran her hands underneath the thin cushion. "They're flat metal slats, but I'm sure we could use them somehow." Her eyes honed in on the oil lamp. "And we could always start with a little cocktail." She smiled and her eyes sparkled in glee. It wasn't technically a bomb, but it would do.

"That's great, except we don't have anything to light it up," Sam replied as his eyes scouted around the room, hoping to be wrong.

"Well, what do you know," Cal said as he held up a matchbook. "Guess they didn't search my pockets well enough. This was buried deep inside." He threw the matches over to Fiona, who caught them midair. "The next time our keeper passes, I'd say you go grab that lamp and get to work, honey."

Fiona glared at the use of the familiar term but didn't say anything. She followed Cal's suggestion and snagged the lamp after the guard passed the window.

"How many times is he going to do that?" Sam asked no one in particular. "You'd think he'd get dizzy from walking around this shack so long."

Fiona quickly assembled her molotov cocktail using the oil lamp and a piece of the ripped sheet. Then they waited. "Cal, did they leave you with anything to pick a lock?"

"I don't think so. Otherwise I would have already been at that door working on it."

She sighed. "I think I have an idea." Fiona made a lot of noise pushing and pulling on one of the springs under the mattress.

"Fi, keep it down!"

"I'm...trying, Michael." She grunted, and with one last, loud pop, the spring was free. "It's about time." She crawled on her knees to the door, which was only a few feet away, and straightened out a couple of inches of wire. Then she stuck the end into the crude lock and carefully moved it around the tumblers.

"Fi," Sam warned, and she quickly slipped back to her place at the foot of the bed.

"This is getting old," Cal complained. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"I almost have it," Fiona ground out between her teeth as she worked the last tumbler. A soft, satisfying click followed, and she turned to grin at him. "See?"

Michael rose and grabbed the knob, and he slowly turned it to open the door just enough to get a look at what they were facing. They had no idea how many of them there were, but at that moment, other than their guard, three others patrolled the perimeter. Two more sat by a fire picking at the remains of their supper. There were other shacks beyond the fire circle that were lit a deep orange from the flames. Military trucks loaded with gun boxes were parked to the right of the shacks.

Michael closed the door and turned to face his friends. "There are five of them, six if you include our guard."

"Not bad odds, if that's all there is," Sam observed. He sat straddling his chair, his arms folded casually over the seat back. "Hey, speaking of guard. He should be coming back about now."

"Unless they're changing up," Jesse added and stood. "If so, now's our chance!"

"Alright, let's not get our hopes up yet," Michael chided and risked a peek out the door. He quickly closed and turned his back to it, and spoke softly. "Must be shift change. They're rotating with the guys at the fire. Let's do it."

They didn't have time to wrestle the slats from the bed. All they had were their hands and Fiona's flambe, which would come in handy to create a barrier between them and the gang so they could try to steal one of the trucks. Michael hoped the vehicles were pointed toward a road that could get them out of there.

"Come on, it's clear." Michael led the way out of the shack, followed by Fiona, Sam, Jesse, and Cal bringing up the rear. He whispered, "Stay close to the wall until we get into the clearing."

He approached the corner, took a quick look around it, and his eyes widened as he pulled back. Suddenly, the guard was there, gun raised to kill them. With lightning quick speed, Michael struck out with his arm and blocked the shot, then gave him a good upper cut that sent him sprawling. Sam lurched forward, twisted the automatic weapon from the man's hands, and flipped it around so it was pointing at him.

"Get up." He gestured with the barrel, and the man complied. He pantomimed for him to move toward the vehicles, but their new captive refused to budge. "Muévalo! Rápido!"

They heard a shout and the sound of other voices, and their attention was diverted to the camp. Dozens of men broke out of the shacks and ran toward them, a variety of weapons brandished in their hands. Their temporary captive attempted to get his gun back from Sam, but Michael took him down to his knees with a well placed punch.

"Fi, get your firebomb ready!" Michael laid out the guard with one knee and they ran toward the trucks through a hail of gunfire.

"Go on! I'll cover you!" Sam did what he could with his one weapon, but it was like a raindrop against an ocean tide. He quickly ran out of bullets, smashed an assailant in the jaw with the butt end, and grabbed onto the handle at the back of a truck that Fiona was trying to hot wire. "Mikey, now would be a good time!" He nodded at Michael, who held their one last hope in his hands.

Michael lit the molotov, cradled it in one hand preparing to throw it out the back of the truck, but at the last second, Cal knocked it out of his hand, barely missing setting Sam on fire.

"What the..." He found a Glock pointed at his chest, and Cal was holding it.

"Cal! What are you doing?" Sam got into the back of the truck to Cal's left. He dove at his friend, but Cal lashed out with his fist and stopped Sam cold.

Michael watched in shock as Sam bounced against the side of the truck and slid down, stunned at the blow. He reached out and grabbed Cal's wrist, twisting it, attempting to make him drop the gun. Sam quickly recovered and tackled Cal. Together, they disarmed him. At the same time, the truck vibrated and the diesel engine chugged.

Michael barked. "Fi, let's get out of here!"

The gear engaged and the truck moved, but it didn't get very far. Cal rose up and slammed Michael in the face. Sam clamped down on Cal's arms, holding them to his sides, but Cal threw his head back and caught Sam in the chin. Sam released his hold long enough for Cal to twist around and deliver a few blows that destroyed a friendship and caused Sam to see stars. With one last blow and a kick to Michael's ribs, Cal jumped out of the back of the truck.

Michael sat up, his head swimming. "Fi! Get this truck moving, now!"

"I can't, Michael." Her head poked through the window between the cab and the back. "We're surrounded, and they've already got Jesse."

"Get down now, Westen."

Michael crawled to the tailgate and glared at Cal, who stood with a smug expression on his face, the crowd giving him a respectable distance.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"No, you don't get to ask any questions. You get down here right now, or...Sam takes a bullet for you." Cal nodded to his left, and Michael turned his head to see Sam slumped between two guys, his body like a rag doll's between them. "Then Fiona, then Jesse...I could go all night, Westen."

"No need to get violent." Michael raised his hands and carefully stepped over the tailgate and took the footholds down to the ground. He was immediately surrounded and handcuffed, then roughly turned around to face Cal. "Who hired you?"

"I told you, Westen, no questions." He nodded, and one of the men stepped forward and punched Michael in the stomach. "For every question you ask, there are repercussions. Think about that." Cal laughed. "In due time, everything will become clear."

"Maybe if you told me what you want, we can work out a deal."

Cal laughed, the sound hardly amusing. "Nice try, but no. My employer made it quite clear that there would be no negotiating with a man like you. Now move!"

Before he could take a step, someone pushed Michael from behind. They propelled him past Sam and Jesse, who both lay unconscious on the ground. Fiona stood pinned between two heavily armed men, sadness in her eyes. There was no way out of this one, and who knew what their fate would be before the sun came up.

Michael was taken to a shack that was larger than the others, which he assumed had to be the compound's HQ. They threw him roughly into a heavy duty desk chair fresh from the 50s and handcuffed his cuffs to the steel back. There they left him to stew and wonder what happened to his friends, how Cal fit into all this, and why they were set up to begin with. After all the activity, he was thirsty. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had something to drink. A high-pressure situation like this turned off all those natural signals until the threat was passed. They were still in danger, but for the moment, the threat had been downgraded. To pass the time, Michael closed his eyes and rested, shoring up his strength for when his captors returned. There was no escaping the cuffs the way they tied him to the chair, but he would wait for an opportunity to present itself again. If he could break free, find Fiona, Jesse, and Sam, maybe they could get out on their second attempt.

"Mr. Westen, we finally meet. Sam has told me so much about you." The soft but smug female voice caused Michael's eyes to fly wide open and his head snapped up to see who spoke.

"Who are you?"

"Sam knows me as Claudia. You might as well use that name. It's just as good as any." She stepped into the light cast by two oil lamps suspended from the ceiling, came around to the side of the desk, and sat on the edge. Her long legs were accentuated by a short skirt, and as he sized up the rest of her, he could see why Sam was so attracted to this woman.

"Claudia. I'd say it was a pleasure, except..." He rattled the handcuffs.

"Oh, don't think you're getting out of those that easy, Michael. You don't mind if I call you Michael, do you?" He didn't answer, so she continued. "You're probably wondering why you're here and why I'm holding you captive."

"That thought had crossed my mind."

She laughed, the sound lilting and light. "I like you, Michael. And your friend Sam is pretty hot, too, but...his usefulness has pretty much run its course." She sighed and slipped off the desk, then came around to lean against it directly in front of him. "If you only knew how many people are drooling in envy right now because I have the famous Michael Westen in my custody. People who want you dead, but not without having a little...fun...before the final bullet puts you six feet under."

Michael grinned, but his look was ice cold. "So you're going to what, put me on eBay and sell me to the highest bidder?"

"Not eBay, darling, but close. The process has already begun." She smiled and leaned in closer, allowing him to see her eyes. Behind their intense green was an evil that Michael wondered how Sam could have missed. "If the right bidder comes forward, I might even make a deal for you and the rest of your merry band."

"So they're still alive."

"For now." She sat back on the desk and crossed her legs, letting one of her stiletto heels dangle casually from her toes. "You be nice to me, and I'll be nice and keep them breathing. But if you're not nice..." She nodded and someone behind him stuck a barrel into the back of his neck.

He ignored the pressure and spoke calmly. "So, what do we do now? Just wait?"

She dropped her foot and stood. Then she spoke in Spanish to the guard, using an authoritative tone and a wave of her hand. He immediately turned and rushed from the room. Claudia smiled down at Michael, showing even white teeth. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart. There are more men outside. No way you're getting out of here. At least have a nice little breakfast with me, and we can talk. Get to know each other a little more."

"I think I know all I need to from this little conversation. Thank you anyway."

Claudia's gaze turned cold. "Trust me, baby, you're going to want to be at this little breakfast meet and greet. Your friends will be there too."

Not sure if she meant real friends, or enemies she labeled sarcastically as friends, he shrugged. "Guess I don't have much choice, do I?"

"None. I'll see you in a little while, Michael."

Michael sat hard in the offered chair, and he held back a sigh of relief when his captors unchained him and removed the cuffs. He sat at a large round table tastefully set with a white linen tablecloth, fine dishes, a full set of glasses at each place setting, and every utensil, probably pure silver, was purposely shined to sparkle in the rising sun. He rubbed at the chafing on his wrists and waited. Not long after he arrived, Sam appeared looking as if he'd been dragged over a rocky road. Jesse didn't look much better. Only Fiona seemed to have come out of this looking half way decent. However, a swollen right eye underscored by a purple bruise on her cheek made his blood stir with rage. She smiled in reassurance and sat next to him on his right. Sam sat to his left, and Jesse sat on Sam's left They didn't have much of a choice. Their captors pushed them into the chairs.

"You okay, Sam?" Michael muttered as he got a closer look at his friend's face.

"I've had worse, Mike. At least they let me clean up before this little soiree." He leaned his forearms on the table and winced. The way he favored his right side, Michael suspected he had a few broken ribs.

"I'm sorry I got you all into this."

"It's not your fault, Mike." Sam turned to his friend with remorse darkening his brown eyes. "I should have been more careful. I should have done a background check on Claudia..."

"Have you ever done a check on your girlfriends before?" Fiona asked the million dollar question with an amount of empathy that surprised everyone.

Sam looked chagrined. "No, but you can bet I'm gonna start. That is...if we make it out of this alive.",

Michael replied confidently, "We will, Sam. Somehow we will."

"So nice of you all to join me for a little celebratory breakfast," Claudia cooed joyfully as she made her entrance. She passed behind Michael, stopped at Sam's chair, and leaned down to kiss him. Disgusted, he jerked away. For his effort, her bodyguard grabbed his collar, turned him toward Claudia, and she raised her hand, ready to backhand him. But suddenly, her eyes softened and she lowered her hand to the nape of his neck. Her voice was like ice when she forced the words from her lips. "That was a mistake, Sammy. Big...mistake."

Fiona shot across the table. "Can you blame him for being repulsed by a snake like you?"

"I don't understand why. He used to think I was quite...irresistible." She leaned in close to his cheek and spoke softly. "Didn't you, pookie?" She quickly kissed his cheek, left a lipstick mark, and stood. With a sigh, she continued around the table and announced, "Our high bidders will be here soon. Let's make sure that everyone is on their best behavior, shall we? No one wants to buy a...difficult product."

Sam dipped his head and tried to wipe away the smudge, which only seemed to amuse Claudia. She sat in her chair looking regal in her white dress and lavender bolero jacket. Footsteps crunched through the underbrush, and soon the rest of Claudia's guests had arrived. She smiled at each one, stood and gave them air kisses as they pressed hands. Then they sat and eyed the captives as if they were the prize cattle at a meat auction.

"Let's begin with introductions, although I'm sure Michael is acquainted with all of you." She started to her left. "This is Mykolos Karpatzos, Greek tycoon and arms aficionado from Greece, Pietr Czychneya, an arms dealer from Belarus, Joseph O'Toole, formerly of the IRA, and Tony Romo, a businessman from the United States." Claudia turned to Michael. "I believe you know everyone here, Michael."

He nodded. Sitting at their table were some of the scummiest arms smugglers and dealers that he had ever had contact with, and if his memory served him correctly, he soundly hampered their operations, sent one of them to prison for twenty years, and generally made their 'business' unmanageable for a very long time. It was no wonder they would want him dead. It all became clear now. Whoever won the bid would be able to exact his own brand of revenge on their nemesis, Michael Westen. Having his best friends around to witness the carnage would be the icing on the cake, and with a sick feeling in his stomach, he wondered if they would also pay the price for their friendship by dying with him.

"Now, shall we get started?" Claudia snapped her fingers, and several of her commandos approached the table with plates covered by aluminum domes. One by one they were removed to reveal a normal American breakfast. Juxtaposed against the jungle, the guests and the situation, it was almost funny. "My personal chef worked on this, so I hope you all enjoy it." She spoke with her attention glued to her captives. "It may be your last meal, Michael."

Small talk buzzed around the table among the bidders, who had no qualms about downing their meal. Claudia laughed and talked animatedly with them, enjoying herself and reveling in watching her captives squirm. Out of the corner of his eye, Fiona picked at her plate. On the other side, he noted Sam dropped his fork atop his uneaten meal, leaned his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them as he stared at Claudia. It wasn't very often that Sam got angry, but by his posture, Michael knew he was raging behind the blank, intense expression. He slipped a hand under the table and tapped Sam on the thigh, getting his attention. He glanced at Michael, who shook his head slightly. Sam's eyes only grew darker and stormier, and he turned his stare back on Claudia.

Claudia knew Sam was going to be trouble. Michael studied her, and he was surprised to see a hint of fear in her eyes mixed with something else. Something tender. Did she really care about Sam, even just a little? Was she regretting getting him mixed up in this chaos? Maybe they could use that against her. He took a few bites but mainly rearranged the food on his plate and watched, waiting to see something that they could use to get away.

Cal stood close by Claudia, watching her back. The guards were too attentive and too well armed to make a break for it. The bidders appeared to be unarmed, as was Claudia. Her dress fit too tightly to hide anything, so unless she had a weapon stuck to the underside of the table, she was clean. Michael's gaze slid to Fiona, and she caught his eye, tapped her fork against a grape, and raised an eyebrow. She was asking to try a diversion, to pretend to be choking on a grape. He shook his head. It was too risky. His eyes slid left past Sam, and he noticed that Jesse was studying their table mates as intently as he had been. Down near the tablecloth hem, he signaled to Michael. He wanted to flip the table in their faces and take off running. It seemed like a good idea, but with guards behind them, they wouldn't get far. He shook his head.

"Alright, get those hands up on the table. No trying to hide anything," Claudia snapped and glared at them. "Check them for missing utensils, anything they could use as a weapon."

They all found their hands briefly pinned behind them as the guards pushed back the tablecloth hanging over their legs and checked for anything they may have hidden. Finally, they shook their heads and returned to their stance behind the prisoners.

"Well, it appears that our captives are anxious to get to the business at hand. Shall we, gentlemen?" Claudia dropped her cloth napkin on her half eaten meal, and it was quickly whisked away. "Now, I asked you all to come with a sealed envelope, and inside is your bid. If you wish to bid on the entire group, please give me your envelopes now."

The bidders glanced at each other, at the merchandise, and Claudia. Clearly, they hadn't been prepared for this. She smiled. "Fine. We'll start the bids for Michael Westen." The envelopes slid across the table to her place, and Claudia picked them up one by one. Then she stood. "I will return in a few moments after I've taken a look at the bids. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves." She looked too pleased with herself, which only fueled Michael and Sam's annoyance, and Fiona and Jesse weren't too thrilled either. Michael glanced at Cal. The man stood near the office door, his head bowed as he glanced at his shoes while he still kept his eye on everyone at the table. He appeared to be having second thoughts about his role in this. Michael caught his attention, and he saw the apology in the man's eyes. Maybe some day, if they made it through, Cal might tell them why he allied himself so foolishly with this woman. No doubt she had some kind of hold on him and she reeled him in just like Sam. Out of the handful of Sam's women that he ever met, this one was the most beautiful and the most dangerous. Michael had met his share of dangerous beauties, so he understood how easily such attractive features could hide so much internal ugliness.

Claudia returned with a wide smile aimed at Tony Romo. "Congratulations, Mr. Romo. I accept your bid. Now, let's talk business. I thank the rest of you gentlemen for coming, and perhaps in the future there will be other opportunities for us to conduct business. Thank you for coming."

Tony stood and followed Claudia to her office, but not without throwing a victorious sneer at the other guests and captives. No one moved until both were inside and the door closed.

"Gentlemen, we'll escort you to your waiting chopper." One of the guards stepped forward and with the tip of his rifle urged them to stand. They did so, but their narrow eyed stares conveyed their unease.

The fine hairs at the back of Michael's neck stood up. He was getting a very bad feeling about the whole situation. He wondered what was happening behind that closed door. Was Claudia working out a deal with Tony for all of them or just himself? If it was just for him, what would happen to his friends?

"Okay, get up, all of you." They complied slowly, with smooth movements so none of the guards would use an itchy trigger finger against them.

Led single file, they were almost to the shack that served as their cell, when shots rang out. Automatic from the sounds of it. The birds in the trees screeched and scattered, their wings beating against the thick leaf covering as they escaped. The burst was brief, but Michael knew that most likely the other guests would not make their flights home today...or ever. How much time did they have left?

"Get in there, now!" The guard shoved them into the shack and locked the door behind them.

More shots rang out, mingled with running feet stomping over the packed earth. A truck engine started up, and more firepower followed. The engine noise increased until it seemed as if it were beside the shack.

"Get back from the door! Now!"

Michael heeded the warning, as did Sam, Jesse, and Fiona. They hurried to the side wall and crouched down just as an explosion ripped the door off its hinges and splinters flew above their heads. Before the smoke cleared, Cal appeared out of the thick cloud and approached his friend.

"I'm sorry, Sam! I screwed up, but I hope you all can forgive me." He blinked through the smoke. "Come on, follow me!" No one moved. After what he'd done, could they really trust him? His hardened expression softened at the realization that he'd destroyed any shred of credibility he had with Sam and his friends. "Please, trust me! I'll get you out of here!"

Sam saw the honest remorse in Cal's eyes. "Okay. But I'm taking this..." He snatched the automatic weapon out of Cal's hands. He held it so loosely, it was easy. He knew then that Cal was surrendering to them, and he would follow through with his plan to help them escape.

Cal headed for the door. "Let's go, before Tony's men get here. They're going to turn this place into a crater by the time they're done."

Sam nodded and turned to his friends. "Let's do this."

Michael nodded, grabbed Fiona's hand, and Jesse followed closely behind them. The truck was still running. Sam pushed Cal up into the passenger side and turned to Jesse, giving him the gun. "I'll drive. You watch him."

"With pleasure!" Jesse hopped up into the truck and kept the barrel at a fatal distance from Cal's head.

"Fi, let's get in back and see what kind of toys we have to keep anyone from tailing us." Michael and Fiona climbed over the tailgate.

"What's back there, Mike?" Sam asked as he climbed aboard, slammed the door, and put the truck in gear.

"We're in luck, Sam. Lot's of ordinance."

"Alright! It's about time Fiona blew something up!" Sam started the truck and put it in gear.

Machine gun fire strafed the road in front and behind them, slicing through the canvas covering. Everyone ducked to avoid being hit, and Sam put the truck through its gears faster than it should have ever gone. Michael and Fiona were a two person wrecking crew in back, her with grenades that she lobbed one after another, and Michael with a machine gun that he swept back and forth to cover all the vehicles and riders following on the narrow road.

Sam drove as fast as he could on the bumpy road that clung to the side of a mountain with dizzying twists and turns. They were heading down the mountain, and the constant braking and gear shifting caused a burning odor that told him they didn't have much time before the abused truck died...or plunged off a cliff because the brakes went out. He glanced back as he noticed silence in the back of the truck.

"Mike, are you okay?"

"Yeah Sam, just reloading." Fiona resumed her volley with a new case of grenades, and Michael started firing at their pursuers. In the side mirrors, Sam noticed there were fewer of them than when they started. One truck got too close to the edge and dipped dangerously. Before the driver could compensate, it tipped over the edge and rolled out of sight.

Eventually, they got to the bottom of the mountain and only one truck was still behind them. Sam recognized this road. It was a few miles outside of the city. Smiling to himself, he gunned the engine and gave it everything he could. The vehicle protested and the engine whine kicked up a notch, but it gripped the road and hugged the gentle curves. They entered the city doing 60, and the truck got the attention of the driver of a Jeep with police markings sitting alongside the road. They flew past the Jeep with the last truck behind them. The Jeep followed.

"Sam, can you get us to the airport?" Michael called up to his friend.

"I'm workin' on it, Mike!" He took a hard right at the sign for the airport, and they nearly tipped over. The pursuing vehicle wasn't quite so lucky.

"They crashed! Oh my god, they crashed!" Fiona yelled. "Sam, slow down! There's no one else following us."

"That is, if you don't count the cops," Michael added and jerked his head toward the view beyond the tailgate. Another Jeep was closing in on them.

"We've done nothing wrong, Michael. We were the ones who were kidnapped!"

Just then, an explosion came from the front of the truck. A big black cloud of smoke billowed out from the engine compartment and the truck slowly came to a stop. Sam looked over his shoulder at Michael and Fiona. "Well, looks like we don't have much choice."

More Jeeps came out of nowhere and surrounded the truck. Jesse kept the machine gun trained on Cal, and Sam pulled an automatic pistol from a side pocket on the seat and aimed it at his former friend.

"Looks like it's the end of the line for me," Cal declared with a resigned tone.

"Yeah. Why'd you do it, Calvin?"

He cocked a lopsided grin. "You know she had the charm, Sam, and she had blackmail material. I didn't have any choice. I'm sorry."

"You've got a lot more people to apologize to than me, pal."

It took a few hours, but Michael, Fiona, Sam and Jesse emerged from the police station unscathed, not counting the bruises and assorted injuries sustained during their capture and escape from Claudia. Police and troops scoured the countryside looking for her, but they came up empty. The sun was sinking over the mountains and they were all beat, but no one relished the idea of going back to the hotel room where they were first kidnapped.

Michael sighed and took a step forward. "We better go get our stuff at the hotel, check out, and hop the first plane back to Miami."

"I'd opt to just hop the plane to Miami, but I left a couple of good shirts back there," Sam said and fell into step beside his friend. "I want 'em back."

"Fine. Let's make it quick." Fiona sighed as she passed both men and turned to face them, walking backwards. "I told you I had a bad feeling about all this!"

"Yes you did, Fi. And we learned our lesson," Jesse replied. "Just don't gloat about it, okay?"

Fiona grinned, turned on her heel and led them back to the hotel.

A few weeks later, Michael and Fiona waited for Sam to meet them at Carlito's. He was late, but only fashionably so. As he approached, he wore a grin that Fiona interpreted to mean only one thing: Sam found himself a new woman.

No sooner was he settled and sipping on a mojito, when Fiona's expression hardened. "Sam...I hope you had her checked out before..."

He stopped sipping, set his drink on the table, and grinned as he dropped a slim file folder on the surface between her and Michael. "There you go, sister. She's been checked not once, but twice. I even called in a couple of favors with the FBI and NSA." He paused. "Satisfied?"

"Immensely." Fiona smiled. "Still, I think we need to meet this one first, before things get too serious."

"Really?" Sam looked less than thrilled with the idea.

"Dinner tonight, 6pm, my place." Fiona smiled. "Michael will be there too, won't you, Michael?"

"Of course. Jesse?"

"I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Sam hesitated, but he realized that Fiona was looking out for his best interests. For that, he had to be grateful. "Thank you, Fi. We'll be there."

Michael smiled thinly. "Fine. Now that everybody's happy, let's get down to business."

Sam took a sip of his drink. "You got it. We're all ears."