I Used to Be a Spy

The Bureau

"Take me to the Bureau, the hospital can wait." Hughes ordered Michael.
"Why would I take you there?" There was a fire in Michael's eyes, a force so strong it made the hairs on the back of Hughes' neck to stand.
He would not be intimidated, not by some undercover hidden criminal. "Because Kavanaugh escaped and I'm gonna find out how. Now listen to me and go to the Bureau." Hughes felt his temper flaring up. He peered over to better examine the man at the wheel. So much for the innocent horse breeder, he had him pegged as. He wouldn't let this man slip away without asking some deep questions.
Aggressively Michael accused, "The kid is gone and it's your fault, Hughes."
Hughes' heart ached as hard as his head did at that moment. He shot up to look Michael square in the face now. "I haven't done anything wrong, Micheal. What is it you think I've done?" Hughes felt heavy, the accusation heavy in the air. Since Michael was quiet and he was tired of the indirect accusations to his integrity, Hughes decided to continue, "You've seen my car, my home. Does it look like I'm in this criminal's pocket?"
"Appearances don't say for a man's true self these days." Michael muttered.
The audacity of this man. Memories of his wife flitted through his mind, the day they married, the day they met. All in random order. Then, the day of her funeral, the months that stretched into years of loneliness. Quietly he sat back and rubbed his temple, desperately hoping the motion would rub away the photos etched into his memory. He fought to keep his emotions at bay. Why were they appearing now?
The car stopped near the Bureau and Hughes hopped out as soon as the car came to a halt. "Ya comin'?"
Michael snorted and shot him a look that stung like a bee sting.
Hughes rolled his eyes and the two simultaneously spoke, "No guards."
Now he knew why, why his friend refused to meet with police or accept a beer around a fire with Hughes and his fellow officers. He should have suspected that this man was a criminal. Though, for a criminal, he seemed to be turned to the straight and narrow, trying to help this kid from going down a similar path he likely had followed in his past.
He grumbled, "Get over it, Micheal." With a sympathetic tone now, Hughes pleaded, "Please, just come inside. I'll take you on as a PI. Clearly you're more than some horse breeder." Much much more. "And you're gonna go after him no matter what. So get in here and assist me."
Michael peered at him with a curious look, his icy blue eyes piercing Hughes. He looked away and thought about this scheme he made up on the spot. Was he not simply trying to lure Michael into the Bureau to interrogate him? Even so, there was truth to his proposition. There was a missing kid and Michael appeared to have a better skill set to figure out how to take Kavanaugh down. Perhaps Hughes owed it to his police friend, to try this avenue to bring Keenan home. Hughes softly offered one last reassurance. "We're on the same side."
Obediently, without a sarcastic retort or jabbing remark, Michael got out of the vehicle and followed Hughes inside.
At the desk, Hughes checked Michael in and got him a visitors pass. Surprisingly, his friend even complied to the photo, though Hughes could sense Michael's worry. The silence continued as they made their way up the elevator to the second level and Hughes led Michael into his office.
"Have a seat, I need to go talk with my superiors and figure out what happened, and send some crime scene people to my house." Hughes directed Michael to a stiff chair across from his desk and left the room, eager to get back and confront this man with the information he knew.
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The small square office with stark white walls and office carpet caused Michael's heart to race and his skin to crawl. He couldn't fathom why he'd obeyed and followed Hughes into this death trap like a dog with its tail between its legs. Why had he complied? He knew it was for the kid.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Fiona's number.
"Hey, Fi."
"Michael, I was worried about you. Is everything alright?"
"Far from it, I'm afraid." He let out a heavy sigh and continued, "I found Hughes tied up and unconscious, then sped over to Keenan's and he's missing Fi."
He heard a light gasp at the other end. "Is-is there time to save him?"
"Yes, but it's going to be tight. It seems he's tying up all of his loose ends. But if he was planning on killing the kid he would've had someone drop in and do it, not take him." Michael's throat felt dry. "Sam and Jesse are on their way back to the house... I'm... at the Bureau."
"WHAT? Michael, are you insane? What if your face is recognized on one of the new-fangled facial recognition things?"
With a surprising calm he responded, "Sweetheart, you've been watching too many shows. Plus, as far as I know, Ireland isn't looking for us." His voice was a whisper. "I know it's a risk, but we are in it now to find Keenan. Hughes is our best bet."
"You've got that right," Hughes interrupted, quickly shutting the door behind him and standing behind his desk, motioning for Michael to sit down.
"Gotta go." Michael hung up and sat in the chair, the hairs on his arms standing.
"You've been approved to help us on the case, your background check cleared."
Michael felt a heavyweight lift from his chest, still, he felt uneasy.
Hughes spoke again, "I have Keenan's dad coming in to identify the car. It appears the kidnapper knocked the dad out but not after he saw the car and the unmasked man. My people are looking into the vehicle and going out now to survey Kavanaugh's known places of hiding."
"Why are we sitting here then?"
"I have some unrelated information that I need to ask you about."
Michael felt like bolting, but he sat up straight, ready to face Hughes head on.
"You passed the background check, but Micheal McBride did not."
The air escaped his lungs, he steadied his pulse that pounded in his ears. Now an officer knew too?
"I'm not here to turn you in, Micheal. You did some shady things in your past, but I am willing to clear it if you help bring Keenan home, and maybe help with some other cases in the future." Hughes had a fascinated look on his face but held his hard stare as well.
"I'm not Micheal McBride."
"I'm certain that you are," Hughes countered.
Michael was caught between a rock and a hard place. Dare he jump out the window before him? Surely he'd stuck more difficult landings than this one.
"You don't understand, it's not what it looks like."
"Oh?"
"It's worse than it looks, actually."