“I need to worry about anyone coming after me?”
“Anyone comes near you,” I said, “they’re coming through me first.”
“Really?”
“Really. What are friends for?”
“Is that what we are?”
I had to think about it. “I guess so,” I said.
“Nice to know. And not that I don’t trust you, but soon as they start bouncing back the charges,” Barry said, “Barry bounces out of Miami.”
“I’d recommend that,” I said. “I’ll call you when I want you to start and then lose your phone.”
“And then, what, Fiona catches up to me?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “She’ll be in contact.”
We sat for a few moments longer and watched the trapeze show. The Asian girl who’d fallen earlier was back on the swing now and picking up momentum to perform another trick, her eyes wide open, her face perfectly still, as if she’d completely forgotten that only a few minutes before she fell to earth with a thud.
You spend the majority of your life in the company of spies and you begin to realize certain truths, chief among them that in order to be a good spy, you have to love your job.
Statistically speaking, this is unusual.
Most people hate their jobs.
Most people wish they were doing something more interesting with their lives. So they go home and they watch television shows about people they can never be, or they read books about fantasy worlds they’ll never inhabit, or they get on to the Internet and take on a persona, either on a message board or in a role-playing game, and they while away their free time pretending and then wake up the next day and head back to the cubicle maze.
But when you’re a spy, every day has the potential to be completely unlike the previous day.
That kind of adrenaline is difficult to replace.
I wanted to solve my burn notice and get my job back not merely because I wasn’t overly fond of being manipulated by forces that wanted to use me for their own devices, nor because I found their belief that I’d capitulate to their will-as however many other burned agents had over the years-specifically rude and disrespectful, never mind that it’s never fun being shot at on a regular basis.
No, I wanted to solve my burn notice because I wanted my life back-the life I’d chosen.
Dealing with the mundane was not a job I was uniquely qualified for, nor, I suspected, was it made for Alex Kyle.
Which is why I wasn’t surprised to see him sitting on the hood of my Charger. That Fiona was sitting next to him, eating a Popsicle, was not in the game plan.
They made a rather striking couple, actually.
I’d parked the car in the lot across from the park, the most public spot, so the two of them were sitting beneath the glow of a towering street-light and right next to the cashier’s kiosk.
I reached under the back of my shirt, where my gun was stashed against my back, and clicked off the safety, anyway. My loft might not be in the most public locale, but there is a nightclub beneath it, which makes it sort of an odd place to assassinate someone, but no less odd than a brightly lit parking lot swarming with people.
Better safe than dead.
“So you two have met,” I said. “That’s nice.”
“Alex was just telling me about your performance this afternoon.”
“Vintage work,” Alex said.
“Thank you,” I said. “Fiona? A word?” Fiona slid off the hood of the Charger and I took her by the arm and guided her a few steps away.
I smiled.
It was the only way I could keep from screaming.
“Care to explain?”
“He was trying to break into your car to leave you a message,” she said. “I offered to sit with him instead and we’d wait for you together.”
“That makes perfect sense,” I said.
“He’s off the clock, Michael.”
“A guy like him is never off the clock,” I said.
“Anyway,” Fiona said, “I explained to him that we didn’t appreciate his meddling in our business with Gennaro. It’s not his place, professionally, to get between you and your ability to make a living. I think he respected my honesty. Of course, I had a gun pointed at his midsection at the time.” She licked her Popsicle. “But he was even kind enough to purchase me this lovely frozen treat afterward. He’s been very polite.”
“I’m happy to hear you’ve bonded,” I said.
“He’s very friendly.”
“He threatened to kill Nate today,” I said.
Fiona considered this. “No one is the ideal,” she said. “And anyway, I made him put all of his guns in your trunk. He’s an unarmed man now.”
“How did you manage that?” I said and dangled my keys in front of her.
“I have my own set now,” she said.
“Since when?”
“You have your secrets,” she said, “I have mine.”
We stepped back over to the car, and Fi sat back down on the hood next to Alex.
“Where’s Spock?” Alex said.
“Pardon me?”
“Well,” he said, “you’re the Captain Kirk here, right? And my new friend must be Bones. Where is Spock? Big guy? Drinks a lot? Lost his dog this morning? Because I can only assume that your brother-Slade, is that right? — is not the center of logic in your operation. More like one of those guys in red who beams down and dies first.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said.
Alex shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe. I’m surprised you’re in the extortion business now, so there’s that.”
“You do what you have to do,” I said. “We all have to eat. Luckily, I happen to like what I do, just like you.”
“You like to kill women and children now, too?”
“That’s my job,” Fiona said. “Michael doesn’t have the stomach for it.”
Alex took that in. “Oh, I doubt that,” he said after a time. “There are children in some developing nations who run screaming when they see a pair of sunglasses and a nice smile.”
“What are we doing here?” I said.
“Three adults having a conversation,” Alex said.
“Your boss know you’re here?”
“He’s not my boss,” Alex said. “Just a consulting job. Something to pass the time. Keep my friends employed. Like I said. I found myself in Miami and needed some work.”
“You just found yourself here?”
“Well, no,” he said. “I came here to kill you. Brought my whole team.”
Fiona nodded at me. “See, Michael, I told you he was polite.”
“Who sent you?” I said.
“Who didn’t? There are open contracts on you all across the world. I figured I’d claim them all.”
“And yet here I am.”
“We could have taken you out a dozen times,” he said. “You don’t exactly put yourself in the best company. Cut-rate arms dealers. Bank robbers. Forgers. Russians. That whack job Larry. Not exactly the Dirty Dozen.”
“You know Larry?” I said.
“I did some work with him in Kosovo,” Alex said.
“Was this before or after he was dead?”
“After,” he said. “But he’s one who’s done it right. Sticks by his principles. Makes a good living. You, you’re not even using your skills anymore. Just a petty crook half the time. And this business with the Ottones. The Michael Westen I heard about all these years would have put Dinino down for what he’s doing with that girl, wouldn’t have even bothered to extort from him. It’s disgraceful, if you want my opinion, but like you said, we all have to eat.”