She was disillusioned with the legal system, having no idea of his involvement with the Columbian connection. Her family was quite wealthy, so initially were hostile to him and the marriage. But he had a sound reputation as a lawyer and had become a pillar of society. His firm was prosperous, so, as yet, there was no cloud to blacken his name.
He was shrewd and careful, but he knew that the DEA and other Federal bureaus, as well as the local PDs were aware of his connections. It was just that there was no evidence to link him with them, apart from the fact he always represented them.
He didn’t always win, and often he advised his clients to admit the offences, particularly if they were minor. In this way he had a reputation of beings the narc’s friend, and so the police would not be wary of his presence whilst representing clients.
His forte was seeing the loopholes in a case. He was very successful at getting cases dropped from abuse of process, or other technicalities. He was only too well aware that in their desperation to nail a criminal, the law enforcement agencies would often neglect one tiny aspect of the law, and that was all he needed.
After dinner, he retired to his study and rang round all the local hospitals, asking after the DEA agent who was injured in the Island operation. He drew a blank, and went and joined his wife.
Chapter 11.
Ryan was with Michelle, again.
Or was it still?
Sean dropped in at ten p.m. to find them laughing together once more.
Michelle looked better. Her waxy complexion had recovered and she had regained some colour. She was wearing a little makeup and had brushed out her long hair.
She was sitting up, wearing one of her silk nightdresses. She was looking good.
“Hi Kids,” Sean said, with a smile.
“Sean. How’s it going?” Michelle asked.
“Pretty good. More to the point, how are you?”
She smiled. “I’m doing well. I still hurt like shit, but they took off some of the dressing, so it is less uncomfortable now.”
“Well, for a dead person, you're looking remarkably alive,” he said.
“Yeah, I heard your news release. Why did you do that?” Ryan asked.
“Well, it's not going to take anyone with half a brain long to figure that this was an inside job. I guess you carrying Michelle to the ship all covered in blood was seen by everyone, so it was easier to kill her off than start trying to hide her. Besides, Renate Muller is dead,” he said.
Michelle smiled.
“I quite liked the name Renate,” she said.
Sean handed over a small brown packet.
“Michel Van Hooyt is dead too,” he said.
Michelle frowned and opened the envelope.
There was a US passport, a driver’s licence, Social security number and a birth certificate.
“Michelle Hoyte, same date of birth. Making you nearly twenty five. Born in Holland, in a NATO military Hospital. US father and Dutch mother, split up just when you were three, and you stayed with Mom. Welcome to the United States, Miss Hoyte,” Sean said.
Michelle, predictably, burst into tears and flung her arms around Ryan, and then Sean.
“I have everything I wanted, almost,” she said through her tears of joy.
“Almost?” asked Ryan.
She looked at him with a coy smile.
“Oh,” he said and went bright red.
Sean shook his head.
“Anyway. We were right to kill you off, as I don’t think they believed the press release. Someone is ringing round the hospitals after the wounded DEA agent. We have a trace on it, but they are using a device that screws with the trace. So, as soon as you are well enough, you are out of here and to somewhere safe.”
“Isn’t a US naval hospital safe?” she asked.
“To a point. But not enough.”
“What do I do now?” she asked.
Sean looked at her.
“You have a really good act. Why don’t you go back to that?” he suggested.
She shook her head.
“It was okay for a while. But I really enjoyed working for you. Can I join the DEA?”
Both men stared at her in surprise and disbelief.
“You want to stay with us?” Sean asked.
“If I’m good enough?”
“You’re nuts, honey. You’ve been damn near killed, and you want to stay for more?” Ryan said.
Sean noted the term of endearment, and watched as she took his hand.
“If you don’t want me to do it, then I won’t,” she said.
Sean smiled. She had him right where she wanted him.
Ryan back-pedalled like mad.
“No, you do whatever you want to do. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again,” he said, and she smiled.
“Can I?” she asked Sean.
“I’ll see what I can do. You’ll have to go to the training academy.”
She smiled again.
“Back to school, I don’t mind.”
“And so will you.” Sean told Ryan.
“Me?”
“Yeah. You’ve been booked in here for your knee next week, and then I want you to complete a familiarisation course with the DEA academy. As an ex-cop you won’t need to do the whole course, but if you are to stay on my team, the boss wants you up to speed.”
The information sank in and he grinned.
“But, don’t get too cocky, the doc says that knee of yours may take three month’s rest before you start fucking about,” Sean warned.
“Three months?” he asked.
“Yes, three months. And coincidentally, that is the time it will take for Miss Hoyte to recover fully. So I suggest you get together and decide what you two are going to do for three months.”
Michelle grinned at the word ‘Miss’ and glanced at Ryan.
At that moment Dr Harry Markham entered.
“Hello, I thought I heard voices. I was just going home, so I thought I’d pop in to see how you are,” he said, the last directed to Michelle.
“I’m still sore, but very happy,” she said with an enormous smile.
“Good. Tomorrow I want to take out the packing. That will ease the feeling of discomfort some. By the way, you were lucky to get away with not having a colostomy bag. The shot in your lower bowel was nasty. But you seem to have gone back together quite well. I admit that I have never conducted an SRS operation at the same time as someone else sewing up some bowel.”
“When will I get to leave?”
“Well, all being well, another couple of days in the high dependency unit, and then to your own room. I should think that after a week we shall review your case. If it were just the SRS, then a week at the most, but your belly wound complicates things somewhat.”
“So, we will be in here together,” she said to Ryan, who blushed again.
“You injured, son?” the doctor asked.
“Old wound, doc. I was shot in the knee when I was a cop in Buffalo. If I want to stay on the DEA team, I need to get it fixed,” Ryan explained.
“Well, not my speciality, I’m afraid. If you want a vaginoplasty, give me a call.”
“I’ll pass on that, but thanks all the same,” said Ryan with a smile.
“Well, no doubt I’ll see you two tomorrow. By the way, do you sleep under her bed?” he asked Ryan.
Ryan smiled.
“No, I have a room in the single men’s quarters.”
“Ah, okay, g’night.”
“I have to go, take care now,” Sean said, and kissed Michelle on the cheek.
“You are both on sick leave as of now. I don’t want to see you back until you are through training.”
Ryan grinned. “Okay boss.”
Sean left them alone.
“So, what will we do for twelve weeks?” he asked.
She went a little red and looked down.