I Used to Be a Spy

In Honor

Hughes laid on the couch, scratching his arms and legs. The dark was overwhelming in the countryside, and the borrowed clothes were scratchy, at least because they were unfamiliar. He wished he could call Michael back into the living room and talk. Ask him what he thought of Laoise, though it felt a sin to talk about his dear wife and his new girl all in the same day.
Panic struck him that he could lose Laoise the same way he lost his wife. He needed to put an end to the madness, these criminals running the show. How could he stop them?
A light flicked on in the kitchen which caused him to jump. He rushed to the kitchen, only to see Michael rummaging through the fridge. Michael turned around and whispered, "Sorry, I've had a hard time sleeping lately."
Hughes walked over to the table and took a seat. "I'm not even tired. There's too much to consider."
"You should get some rest so you have a clear head for tomorrow," Michael suggested, closing the fridge with no apparent snack.
Hughes shrugged. "So, as a spy, you had to deal with people trying to kill you constantly?"
Now Michael shrugged, "it's part of the territory. I destroyed a lot of lives, so it's only fair that mine would be threatened too."
Hughes was dumbfounded at his friend's view of living in constant fear.
"This is why I don't sleep well anymore. For those five years I learned to relax, to realize that my old life was legally and officially dead, no one was looking for me anymore. Now that we've started all this," Michael motioned toward Hughes' general direction and continued, "I wake up expecting someone to be pointing a gun at me."
"Wow, yeah I don't think I'd sleep either... After Kavanaugh killed my Eillish, I slept horribly. But I left him alone, his threat worked...for a while. Then one day I woke up and decided I couldn't live accepting that a crook got away with taking her."
"What day was that?" Michael asked.
"The day a man with sunglasses sat alone in a bar and drank water," Hughes smirked. "If that man could drag himself out of bed and be around people to try and find solace, I could do something about my pain too."
Michael grinned. "We're gonna take O'Sullivan down, okay?"
Hughes nodded, "I know."
                                       +++++
Michael laid in bed, Fiona curled up at his side. How he wanted to admit to Hughes all of the wrong doing in his past. If Hughes, or rather Beacan, knew of Michael's devious path, he surely wouldn't maintain respect for the man in the sunglasses, for that man did many horrid things in his lifetime.
A litter of his horrible deeds flooded his mind until he had to take deep breaths and count down from ten. Was he redeemable? After all this time could he make up for his wrongs?
He turned to his side and kissed Fi's forehead, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. The love of his life changed him and viewed him as a good man.
Pushing away his self doubt and worries, he considered Beacan's issues. How could they take out O'Sullivan without ruining their lives here? There wasn't an even higher crime boss they could call in.
Suddenly, an idea struck Michael. Unwrapping himself from Fi, he bolted out of the room and to the kitchen once more. He heard Hughes snoring lightly so he flickered on a small light and dialed Sam's number.
After several rings a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"
"Hey Sam."
"What's wrong Mikey? You better be dying."
"Last time you said that I almost did."
"Oh, sorry."
"I know it's late here but could you make a secret call over to the US? I have an idea..." Michael smiled as he said, "We need to bring in the Cartel."
                                        +++++
"Wait, you want me to, what?" Jesse practically hollered over the phone.
"You don't need to meet with them Jesse, just give them a call and make sure one of their shipments goes missing," Michael stated, as if it were as simple as he was hoping it would be.
"Mike, you've got to be out of your mind. I am not messing with the Cartel."
"But you know people who would, don't you?"
Jesse was silent, which lifted Michael's spirits.
"Who is gonna believe that an Irish criminal stole drugs from the Cartel?" Jesse asked, his voice heavy with doubt.
Sam rubbed his chin and chimed in, "Actually, that's the perfect crime."
Simultaneously Jesse and Beacan stated, "There's no such thing."
Michael shook his head. "We'd owe you big time, Jesse."
"Pfft, yeah you would!" Jesse yelled. Then more seriously he stated, "I'll do it. Honestly it's been boring over here without you guys. It'll be just like you're here."
"Where do I come into all of this?" Sam questioned.
"Why can't I just show up with Hughes and we get the boss man to admit to hiring me to have him killed."
Michael rubbed his chin. "That could get messy really fast..."
"I think we should just blow everybody up," Fiona chimed in. "It worked for me."
Michael groaned, "That's even messier. Let's not attract any attention to ourselves, alright?"
Fiona shrugged and continued to bounce the baby, following Charlie outside.
"I'll get back to you guys by tomorrow and let you know what happened over here. How do you want me to leak that it was an Irish dude that took the drugs?"
Sam excitedly offered, "Elsa has an uncle in Miami who runs a shipyard. I'll call him and tell him to leave an empty crate where you can put the drugs, when you're done, put the drugs in there and label it to come over here. Under O'Sullivan's name."
"Yeah, then I can leak the details of where they went. Awesome guys, I'll keep you updated," Jesse said, then hung up the phone.
Sam pressed the end button on one of his burner phones. "This is great, guys," Sam said optimistically.
Hughes snorted, "This is all so...deplorable." He stood against the wall, with his arms crossed, shaking his head.
"What's your great idea?" Sam argued.
"Go to the Bureau," Hughes stated, as if it were the only option.
Michael went over to his friend. "I know it's not your first inclination, but there's nothing wrong with having the worst bad guys take each other out."
Hughes shook his head once more. "There's everything wrong about it. We should be doing this the official way."
"You'd be dead right now, along with plenty of other people if we didn't step up," Michael argued.
Hughes uncrossed his arms and looked down at the floor. "I know you're right, but there's got to be a better way."
"Trust me," Sam said with sympathy, "We've done this hundreds of times. Sometimes you gotta wait out the storm instead of running full bore into it."
Michael agreed with Sam, but understood the inner battle Hughes had. Were they making decisions that were not within their rights? Were these not the same arguments Michael gave to Sam and Fiona regarding taking out bad people for James? No, he realized. He wasn't taking out O'Sullivan or anyone from the Cartell. That was not their job. Their job was to protect Hughes and the other innocent people affected by selfish and greedy people.
                                        +++++

"So, uh, guys... things didn't go to plan. I-I blew up the drugs," Jesse admitted, his voice crackling over the phone. "Just playing, everything is in the shipping container waiting to be discovered. Someone called in the 'mysterious' men down by the dock at midnight loading things."
Michael let out a sigh of relief.
"Did I get anyone?" Jesse asked, sounding disappointed.
"Yeah, we all almost fainted over here," Sam replied, shaking his head.
"Thanks, Jesse, we are grateful for your help," Michael said.
"We miss you Uncle Jesse!" Charlie shouted close to the phone.
"My ear," Jesse groaned , then answered, "Hi Charlie, I miss you too."
"What now?" Beacan asked, pacing back and forth.
"Now we wait, buddy," Sam said.
"Enough!" Hughes shouted. Without warning he stomped to the front entrance, grabbed the keys and stormed out the door.
Everyone was frozen in shock for a moment. Jesse broke the awkwardness by asking, "Was it something I said?"
"No, it definitely wasn't you..." Michael handed the phone to Sam and bolted out the door after his friend. Michael caught up to Hughes as he was almost in the car. "Hold up," Michael held up a hand.
Hughes gripped the top of the car door, his eyes red with tears and pain. Quickly he wiped the tears with his arm. "I was over it all, Mícheál. I was this," he held up his fingers to emphasize his words, "close to closure. I had Kavanaugh, why wasn't it just him?"
A cry caught in his friend's throat and he leaned into his hand and let it out.
Awkwardly Michael patted his friend's arm. What did he do when Charlie or Ciara needed comfort? Hug them. Nope. Michael crossed his arms, as if to tell his mind absolutely not.
Definiantly his arms reached out, closed the car door and he pulled his friend close. Hughes momentarily sobbed, then stood and leaned back against the car.
"There is no real closure," Michael admitted after his friend seemed to regain his composure.
Hughes folded his arms but stayed silent. Maybe he was considering taking off still and getting true revenge. "At the end of the day, bad people do bad things. Whatever you're thinking right now, it's not the way to do it. You're a good guy."
Hughes shook his head.
Michael continued, "Revenge won't bring her back, Beacan. But you, you being the good guy, that will honor her memory. Keep doing the right thing."
Hughes sighed heavily and asked, "Now what?"
Michael firmly grabbed his friend's arm. "Now we wait for justice. The Cartel will come for him."
His friend's shoulders sagged a bit more. He appeared more defeated rather than encouraged. Hughes adjusted his stature and flashed Michael a determined look. "Don't tell anyone I cried."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Michael held up his hands on defense and grinned at his friend. Michael stuffed his hands into his dark work jeans and admitted, "I'm being a hypocrite. I spent seven years seeking revenge and restoration from the people who burned me."
"Burned you?" Hughes folded his arms and furrowed his brow.
"A burn notice is basically a way of saying you're fired in the spy world. I was let go unjustly. Turns out it was my mentor. Then he tried to kill me..."
Hughes shook his head in disbelief. "What a world."
"Anyways," Michael continued, unsure of why he felt compelled to share such sensitive information, "I got my revenge, but I went down a dark path. I lost myself and everything I stood for. Fiona, Sam and Jesse all saved me. My mom gave her life in the process. My point is, being dead-set on revenge poisons your mind... it's not worth it."
Hughes met Michael's gaze. "Thank you for sharing your experience. Your right, Eillish wouldn't appreciate me becoming a bad guy."
A wave of relief washed through Michael, his past didn't scare away his friend as he had feared it would.
The two turned and walked back to the house. Hughes curiously asked, "You still willing to be a PI for the Bureau?"
"So long as I don't end up hogtied with you, then sure," Michael taunted.
"C'mon man, that was once," Hughes grumbled.
"And if you tell me about your new girl," Michael arches his eyebrows.
Hughes grumbled again, causing Michael to grin.
"You know, maybe I wouldn't mind being hogtied with you," Michael smiled.
                                    +++++
The breeze blasted against his ears, yet Michael cues Paistí to speed up. The fresh air was exhilarating, his mind feeling clear for the first time in a month. Now that things were wrapped up with O'Sullivan and Kavanaugh, Hughes was safe, for now anyway.
Michael focused on his horses once more and caring for his family.
At least until he would receive a call from Hughes. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone needed help, and he'd give it willingly. In honor of his mother and his second chance at life.