I Used to Be a Spy

Not Your Average Civilians

"Sir, we've got a hit," the female officer had her head ducked into the room.
"I'll be out in a minute," Hughes responded. He felt his wild card to be more than he bargained for.
Michael shot up in front of him. "Now is not the time for this!"
The officer closed the door behind them. Hughes steadied himself on his desk, then pulled two head-ache relief pills from the top drawer and shoved them in his mouth.
Without provocation, Michael leaned on the desk as well, as if in turmoil. "I'll come clean to you, Hughes. I'll tell you everything, but only if you promise me you're not working for Kavanaugh."
"Micheal, I promise."
With determination, Michael nodded his head and said, "Alright, when this is over, I'll come back here with you and tell you everything."
"Okay, then. I'll hold you to it."
The two left the room and got the address to where the car was parked. Quickly, Hughes jumped into the driver's side of his vehicle, Michael following close behind, keeping a tail better than he'd seen before.
"That man has a lot of explaining to do," Hughes snickered to himself, pleased he had his friend back. Though he was now like a new person to him.
The house was a small, single-family cottage style home in the part of town that was slightly run down. Not a location Hughes expected Kavanaugh to take refuge in.
"What do you think his game plan is?" He asked Michael as they ascended the uneven and cracked steps to the home.
"He's not here. My guess is he's got a surveillance team around watching us and has a trap set."
Hughes stopped abruptly. "I need to call for backup."
Continuing up the stairs Michael called back toward him, "There's no time. I called Sam and-some friends and they are going to be here any minute."
"More civilians?" Hughes grumbled.
Michael looked back at him and smirked, "They're not your average civilians."
Without waiting for further debate from Hughes, Michael pulled the PPKS .380 caliber pistol from the back of his pants where it had been tucked and bound the remainder of the stairs. Bracing himself up against the door, he peered in through the dirty glass window. He spotted two men with guns smoking inside, sitting on old chairs.
"What do you think you're doing with that, Micheal? You're not cleared to use that, or any weapon for that matter." Hughes hissed, bounding the stairs and shoving Michael out of the way.
"Stop, I know what I'm doing, alright? You're gonna get us killed, now get behind me."
Hughes shook his head, "I'm taking the lead on this."
The two men must have heard the arguing because they were stirring inside and a shot broke the glass between them.
"Get down," Hughes ordered, ducking. He returned fire into the home and one of the men shouted. The other went to go run out the back but Michael jumped the small deck and bolted for the back door. As the back door opened came up the short staircase and slammed his body with full force back into the guy, which knocked him back into the house.
Michael pulled the door open fiercely and held his gun aimed at the man's chest. The bodyguard he recognized as one who usually chauffeured Kavanaugh put his arms up in defense. Michael bent forward and patted the man down, finding his pistol and confiscating it, tucking it back where he had hidden his own gun.
"Where is the kid?"
"He's in the house here."
A shout in the house came from Hughes, "He's here Mícheál, but he's in bad shape."
Michael grabbed the bodyguard roughly by the arm and lifted him to his feet. "Get up, go to the living room, now."
Michael and Hughes finished tying the two bodyguards up as Sam and Jesse barged through the door.
"Mikey, you okay?" The concern in Sam's eyes was a bit discouraging.
"I've got it handled, thanks for coming," Michael reassured.
"Yeah, but we missed all the fun," Jesse teased, bobbing his head toward the two tied up men.
Hughes was leaning over Keenan, who laid unconscious on the couch. Hughes spoke in English to the group. "Keenan needs help."
"I'll take him to the hospital," Sam volunteered. "Can someone call his father and have him meet me there?"
"Ya, I'll do it." Hughes whipped out his cell phone. Simultaneously, one of the guards' cell phones rang.
Michael reached down and pulled it from the guard's suit coat. It read Kavanaugh on the screen. "Micheal, Micheal McBride."
Michael went to the window and peered out. "What do you want Kavanaugh?"
Sam twisted his head to look at Michael but refocused on helping Jesse lift him from the couch and drag him to the car outside.
"What do you want?" Michael seethed.
"I gave you the boy, now what I want from you is fairly simple. Meet me at the park north of town. I know you're working with that cop and some other Americans. If you want me to spare their lives, do as I say. Tomorrow morning at dawn, bring me some new documents and a phone number of a good smuggler. I know you have connections." Despite the corner Kavanaugh was backed into, he was confident.
"Why would I help you?"
"If you don't, I'll blow your cover. Micheal McBride angered a lot of people. Blew up enough places to get recognized in our country here."
"It's not enough time," Michael stated matter of fact.
"Make time. Don't think about screwing me over. Come along. Oh, and I want my cash back too." Kavanaugh threatened, then hung up.
Michael threw the phone down and raced out to meet Sam and Jesse.
"What did he want?" Sam inquired.
"He wants papers and to be smuggled out of the country. He's scared." Michael stood, perplexed.
"Guys, we gotta go, now," Jesse warned, examining the beat-up kid in his lap.
"Alright, I'll drive. Sam, you and Hughes meet me at the hospital." Michael ordered.
Sam nodded obediently, and Michael hopped into the driver's side and tore out quickly toward the closest hospital.
                                 +++++
A large man approached him as he finished speaking to his colleagues and filling them in. "I hate to interrupt, but Mike left. He told me to get a ride with you."
Frustrated, Hughes made his way to the vehicle. Who was Michael to bark orders and tear out without calling police or an ambulance?
"Alright, let's go." Hughes got into the driver's seat and the man awkwardly went for the same side.
Turning to go to the other side he chuckled, "My bad, still not used to this other side thing."
Hughes drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, wondering if he was making the right call. The team was on its way to examine the house where Keenan was being held and another team to greet him at the hospital. Yet he didn't feel in charge of this investigation anymore, not with Michael calling the shots.
"I'm Sam, by the way. You're Michael's 'police buddy' I take it?" Sam commented, clearly noticing Hughes' irritated mood.
Clearing his throat, Hughes answered, "I suppose that'd be me, I'm Hughes."
"Just Hughes?" Sam probed.
"Ah, yes. Just call me Hughes. So, you're an American?"
Sam beamed. "Yes, sir I am. I'm Michael's best friend." Sam frowned when he finished speaking as if he had said something questionable.
He wondered if it was because he thought perhaps Hughes had taken that position now, or if it was something regarding Michael's true identity.
"Michael, he doesn't go by Michael McBride anymore. Why is that?" Hughes asked, knowing it would be a hard-hitting question.
Sam's face became taught with worry at the question, still, Hughes continued. "I'm curious how a criminal over here in Ireland would meet a nice American such as yourself."
With a more relaxed expression and suave manner, Sam sat back and replied, "Mike isn't who you're thinking of. I don't know Michael McBride. But I do know that my lovely wife and I love Ireland. So much so, that we are looking to buy a cottage over here and buy a horse from him. I'm not sure if you're aware, but he's the best horse breeder in these parts."
Hughes guffawed. The very smoothness of this older gentleman was quite impressive. He almost half believed this lie. "A horse breeder with a knack for guns."
Sam simply shrugged. "Every man needs a hobby."
Hughes held in a chuckle. If he didn't already get a promise from Michael to tell all, he'd be frustrated. But this was simply amusing. Hughes could see why Michael liked this guy.