Fighting back
Title: Fighting Back
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters: Michael, Sara, Lincoln, LJ,OC, Alex, Sofia Gretchen and Whistler
Rating: Probably NC-17 after the first few chapters
Summary: Michael and Sara discover things, good and bad about themselves as they finally start fighting back. All locations mentioned in the story actually exist and can be found on the google map I've made to accompany this fic. It can be found at -
http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=103288565057239961114.000450311da1ba4287bb4&z=4
I apologise for this being so long, but here was an end point I needed to reach and as usual I kinda got distracted.
I'm a spoiler whore by the way and although this story is all mine and the general direction put together in my head a while back I'm a little dismayed to see S4 has some of the same ideas. Not sure what to advise for those who want to remain spoiler free? oh...and can I sue the writers for pinching my ideas? Lol
Chapter 26: Calabasas CA
Sara followed the man wordlessly into the hotel room, her thumb thrust between her teeth as she gnawed at the nail. Her head was down allowing her long hair to fall around her face in an obscuring curtain of red. The men exchanged yet more questioning looks, unsure how to deal with this woman who seemed to be displaying all the recognisable signs of shock.
“There’s room service, would you like a drink or something Sara?” one of them tentatively enquired.
Sara briefly looked up at the man, her eyes widening with surprise at the use of her first name, and for a moment she wondered at how different it sounded coming from the lips of strangers. Then the realisation that she had once again lost Michael crashed into her with the force of a tornado, ripping her apart and shredding her senses until all that she could feel was a deep aching pain in her bones that seemed to seep malignly through her.. She shook her head, and closed her eyes and shutting off all other stimuli she allowed only her memory free reign as it played back the softly sensual tones of his voice whispering her name into her hair as they had made love the previous night….
~~~~~
“Agent Lang, Agent Wheeler!” They turned as one, Lang’s coffee still slurping noisily into the styrofoam cup in the vending machine they had found down one of the endless corridors of the LAPD HQ.
“Detective Wilson has arrived ….the officer leading the Leif homicide? He’s waiting to interview Scofield.” The uniformed officer added a she reacted to their puzzled faces.
“Ahh right…is there somewhere we can talk with him?” asked Lang.
“Sure…you can use interview room three… that’s empty.” she replied.
“Great, show him up then.” And Lang reached for her coffee and headed back down the corridor closely followed by Wheeler.
They had taken seats at the small table in the centre of the room and were sharing yet another hushed conversation when a large red faced man entered the room. He looked puzzled for a moment until Lang realised he was probably expecting to see the prisoner and she immediately stood, offering her hand
“Agent Lang and this is my colleague Agent Wheeler.”
Wilson tipped his head slightly to acknowledge the two Agents although he was wondering why he was talking to them and not Scofield.
“And where’s Scofield?”
“He’s downstairs with his lawyer, they have a lot to discuss as you can imagine.” Responded Wheeler.
Another barely imperceptible nod from the experienced Homicide detective was his only reply and Wheeler sensing the onus was on them to continue began to speak in a measured tone
“He’s you prime suspect in the Leif murder.” making it unclear if this was a question or a statement
“He’s our only suspect, and forensics tie him to the murder scene. I think I’ve found the smoke, I’m just tracking back now to the fire.” He added with a knowing grin,
“That’s usually how it works with these things I find…” he added, still not quite sure how two Federal agents fitted into his investigation, but if this turned into a pissing contest he was determined to win it.
Lang nodded but her eyes were still on her colleague as he continued.
“Detective Wilson, we’ve already had a preliminary session with the prisoner, as you can understand there are a plethora of charges he’s facing, many other States are interested in him.”
“I would have thought a homicide was pretty high up the list” was Wilson’s flat reply, his eyes staring back at Wheeler.
“Of course…but there are issues the Bureau need to manage here. Scofield has made an initial statement to us about the events in Scottsdale.”
“You didn’t wait for me? What did he say?” his frustration obvious.
“He was very keen to talk and he was being advised by his lawyer, we have the tapes of course.”
“Fine, fine but what did he say?” Wilson’s impatience now straining at the leash.
“He admits to being in the house and meeting Molly Leif but states she was murdered by one of your own officers shortly after he had left her.”
Wilson’s mouth formed a small O in mute shock at these words, and it was several seconds before he recovered enough to ask the question the agents had been expecting.
“Well that sounds like the words of a desperate man. Who? Which of my officers did the bastard name?”
“He said the officer’s name is….” and Lang pulled a small notebook from her jacket pocket flicking through the lined pages to a set of pencil notes “… Philip Macken and he’s willing to identify him in a line up if necessary.”
Wilson exhaled a long sigh, his hand sweeping up through his thinning hair in a gesture of unease.
“Scofield is obviously a very clever con. How long has he been in custody for?”
Wheeler looked puzzled,
“Ummm I’m not sure, since mid afternoon?”
Wilson started nodding his head slowly,
“Enough time then before he was apprehended.”
“Enough time to do what?” asked Lang, sensing this discussion was veering off track and out of her control and having no idea why.
“To hear that Officer Macken was shot and killed by a punk last night in the line of duty…gunned down at a gas station by some guy for no apparent reason. We haven’t caught the guy yet, but we will…so is it coincidental that Scofield has named the only officer in the department who can’t defend himself…”
Wheeler and Lang exchanged more glances,
“Don’t tell me you believe the scumbag?” Wilson now cried out,
“He obviously heard the news and then decided to try and pin it on Phil…”
“That is one explanation…” replied Lang slowly.
~~~~~
The two men huddled together in the corner of the large room sharing a whispered conversation and occasionally glancing back at the small frame of the woman. She was now sitting hunched up on the bed, her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them protectively. It was with evident sighs of relief they hurried towards the door on hearing three short sharp knocks. It was opened, and the woman from the pier entered the room taking in Sara’s figure and the concern on the men’s faces in seconds. She made her way straight to the tray holding the tea and coffee making facilities
“We could all do with a good cup of tea.” She murmured and clicked the kettle on with a switch, busying around with the cups and saucers and the individual tea bags..
“Goodness me so many fruit teas, I’ve never understood the appeal of fruit teas. What we need now is a good strong cup of proper tea really.” Her rather clipped vowels softened by the warm and friendly tone of her voice.
Sara if she was listening made no reaction, and only buried her head further into her arms when the tea was finally made and offered to her with the comforting words
“Drink it while it’s hot, it’s very good for shock…”
The woman tutted several times when there was still no movement from Sara and placed the cup on the nightstand, moving quickly to the large TV she picked up the remote
“Right lets see where they’ve taken him shall we dear?”
Sara lifted her head, her eyes heavy with tears she was fighting and failing to control, and peered at the set when she heard the TV blare into life.
The English woman was clicking her way through the list of channels, trying to find a local news programme.
“Ah here’s one”
Earlier today Michael Scofield the Fox River mastermind was recaptured in Santa Monica at the scene of a double homicide. He was taken to LAPD HQ in downtown LA. Our Channel Seven reporter at the scene says he remains inside the building and we understand he is being questioned about the murder of two men at Santa Monica pier and the still unsolved murder of Molly Leif from Scottsdale Arizona.
Sara could only manage a mangled groan before once more hiding her face within her arms. The woman seemed to take this as some kind of condemnation of their action down on the pier and responded accordingly.
“I’m sorry Dear, but we didn’t really have a choice, He was about to be taken and once the company get you there is rarely a way back….”
“They think he murdered those two men!” Sara’s voice was surprisingly strong despite the tears now flowing freely,
“They’re going to charge him with those murders and he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison…oh no wait….” and she let out a short hysterical laugh.
“We’re in California now, they have the death penalty here…freaking wonderful….”
The woman had let her finish, patiently sitting in the chair with a cup of tea in one hand, smoothing out her skirt with the other.
“We all know they won’t find any evidence he shot those men Sara, although I have to admit the charges in Scottsdale will be harder to dodge …does he have a good lawyer? We could certainly help fund one for him, if that will be a problem?”
Sara looked up and barely managed to restrain from snorting….
“A good lawyer? He’s going to need a magician not a lawyer to even start fighting this….”
The woman had been sipping at her tea and she stopped the cup half way to her lips and stared at Sara.
“As I said before, we can try and help Michael but actually my major concern right now is you young woman. This was supposed to be an initial meet, we’re not set up to bring you in yet, and more to the pint, I’m not convinced yet, you really want to join us….”
Sara started to smile at the astuteness of the woman’s words, then started shaking her head slowly from side to side she said.
“I was always the weak link wasn’t I? It was Michael you really wanted…well you’re right, I’m not sure what I want to do right now, I cant think beyond the fact that he’s not here”, and her head turned back to the TV in time to catch film showing the earlier arrival of a large security van at the entrance to the LAPD underground car park.
“He’s in there, he needs you guys now, tell me what you can do?”
The woman’s face broke into a soft sympathetic smile.
“Sara you know we can’t rescue him from there…not now, not with all the publicity, but at last he’s relatively safe. He’ll be on doubled guards, his cell monitored 24/7 if we can’t reach him then neither can the Company at the moment, its status quo…”
Sara turned away from the woman; she couldn’t bear to here her words even though she knew they made sense.
“Now drink your tea, and we can have a little chat about what you do next…..”
~~~~~
Michael paced his cell, backwards and forwards, occasionally rubbing his hands together as he moved, thankful, for the first time since he had been hauled up to his knees from the asphalt, that his hands were no longer cuffed. The cell was not large, less than six ft square, one corner taken up with the brushed steel toilet and a concrete shelf fulfilled the role of a bed and stretched fully across one wall. It was just a holding cell, not designed for extended stay so there were no blankets, or pillows, just a plastic padded mattress only a couple of inches thick resting on the shelf. They’d taken his watch but Michael knew it must be the early hours of the morning now, since according to the clock in the interview room Bill had not left him until 2am and he’d been pacing now for at least an hour.
The lights were full on, blanketing the room in a harsh brightness that bleached the colours out of the concrete and walls. He was obviously under constant surveillance since he’d seen inquisitive eyes peer at him through the metal slit on the door several times even in the short time since he’d been placed here. At least he assumed these were planned checks. He had been unable to ignore the intense interest his capture had apparently caused when he was brought here. An eerie silence had fallen followed by an audible buzz as he was guided through the corridors by two jubilant cops. Officers appeared at doors or stopped what they were doing to stare, and he had reacted by keeping his head low, avoiding any eye contact…hating the infamy his name now attracted. Perhaps the constant procession of cops at the door was just sightseeing….Michael wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed or relieved by the apparent care the LAPD were taking with him. There had been a small but constant fear niggling away at him since arriving at the station that a Company man could get to him. The extra security, the doubling up the guards on him, the cops’ curiosity left him with little privacy but was in a way strangely reassuring.
His eye caught the piece of paper the two agents had insisted he to take back to his cell. He wasn’t stupid he knew they were playing him but he couldn’t stop himself picking up the densely typed sheet to read it again.
Visiting Regulations at ADX Florence
He knew this was the federal supermax prison somewhere in Colorado. He’d researched it briefly when he was building up information for the Fox River escape. His research had given him the facts, it was only after talking in the prison yard one day with a con who had transferred over from it did he get the real low down….
Skimming down he could see there were different regulations for the various units within the prison. But even the general units were far stricter than Fox River which was a Maximum security state penitentiary and therefore supposed to be a tough place to do your time.
Unit H’s regulation had been highlighted to draw his attention to the additional security measures…only video visiting was allowed, no face to face contact, not even with a Plexiglas barrier, the prisoners and their visitors weren’t even in the same room….he couldn’t imagine putting Sara through that…Michael read it again and shook his head…he’d expected threats, but actually seeing the reality of what his life behind bars could become was still shocking and he tossed the paper back onto the shelf bed as the first few tendrils of doubt began to wind their way inside his previously solid defence.
He stepped up onto the shelf, stretching his neck to peer out of the high slit of a window at the top of the cell wall. With the light from his cell and the mirroring glare from the lights of downtown LA the night sky was far from dark, the stars if they were there were invisible to his eyes. But he peered up into the sky anyway, and wondered whether Sara was seeing the same as him……His eyes darkened, his lips setting into a tight line and his hand swept across his chin feeling the now softening stubble on his chin and wondered how many days he’d gone without shaving. An embryonic beard had formed and for a moment his thoughts were on Sara and what she would think if he let it grow.
~~~~
Unbeknown to Michael, Sara was also restless and awake in the still early hours of the day. The hotel room was airless even with the aircon going full pelt and although she had tried to doze, fully clothed on top of the bed she was unable to grab more than a couple of hours sleep. The TV flickered eerily in the darkness, the woman was sitting in a chair, watching a cookery programme, and lifted her head when she saw Sara stir once more before stretching her legs and shifted off the bed.
“Can I get you a cup of tea?” The woman asked and Sara smiled at what had become a stock response from this mystery lady.
“No I just can’t sleep,” and she walked over to the French windows and out onto the small balcony, closing them behind her. She stepped up to the railing feeling the humid air of the night surround her, and wondered once again where she was. A few miles on the other side of the hills that cradled the north of LA, she guessed and she looked over to her right and saw the vague outline of more hills. Possibly the same hills that hid the canyon road that led to Bob and Jen.
The hotel was just off a busy freeway and the deep rumble of the traffic on the grey pink concrete thrummed away in the background. Across the street were some 24 hr fast food places, and the smell of greasy chicken and Mexican food hung in the air almost like a faint miasma. She looked up, and beyond the haze from the street lights, she could see the sky darken and as she stared she could see hundreds of tiny pin pricks of light focus into stars before her. She smiled, remembering back to the many nights she and Michael had gazed up at the heavens on their trip back to the States, so many nights so many stars and she crossed her arms, her hands smoothing down her skin as her mind once again turned to thoughts of Michael…was he ok? Was he scared...? Had he given up hope…?
She turned to go back inside, weary of the internal battle that she had been constantly fighting in her head since the van doors had closed on her. What should she do next? But any thoughts seemed to melt away like mist in a morning as she tried to concentrate, distracted as she was by the yearning her body felt for this man who had seeped through her skin and become part of her life, her soul.
She tried again, focused her mind and realised the problem. She was trying to make the decision as if she was Michael, what would he do? What would be his plan? But with a shuddering clarity of thought she stepped back into the room, she would do what she needed…wanted…what she thought was best. And suddenly what seemed to be the most selfish of answers now appeared to be simply the only one …
~~~~
She awoke the next morning and knew she wouldn’t change her mind. A few hours of dream ladened sleep, in which a silent Michael was always just a few feet beyond her outstretched hand, had only strengthened her will.
“Take me back please.”
The words had been spoken, the decision made. The woman, paused before answering, then nodding to her colleagues she simply picked up the keys from the table,
“Rightio dear,”
“Wait don’t you want to know where to?” asked Sara.
“I’m assuming you want to go back to the Sundown Ranch, Sara?” the woman’s answer was casual, despite Sara’s shocked reaction.
“How do you know about that?” she asked as she followed this intriguing woman out of the door and into the bright sunshine of a California morning.
“You think the Company are the only ones who trace cell phones dear?” And she smiled benignly shaking her head.
“We had your location plotted by the end of our call to Michael. But don’t worry, your friend’s are safe, I sent someone to check last night, after the snatch.”
Sara breathed out a sigh of relief at someone finally stating and then removing one of her worries, because if the Company had managed to find them, perhaps they’d found Bob and Jen too…
They’d been driving for quite a while in a silence that Sara had found comforting but the woman ended it with a question that suggested this was more than just a delivery job to her.
“Do you think you made the right decision?” the woman asked as she negotiated a bend on the road up through the steep hills.
Sara didn’t answer immediately, but then glancing across at the woman she nodded.
“Yes he needs me, and if that just means a face in the courtroom, a visitors name on the list, a hand on the mesh screen between us, then I will be there for him. I’ll fight any charges they try to bring against me because I have to remain free for his sake. He will need me...” she stated again, repeating a mantra she had been mouthing almost unconsciously ever since she’d returned to the room the night before.
The woman smiled,
“I understand. There is something special about that man. I could see it, even in the few briefs seconds we met, it’s in his eyes, he is so very much like his father.”
Sara whipped her head round to face the woman.
“You knew his Dad?”
The woman nodded,
“For many years, and like everyone I was devastated when I heard the news of his death. The only thing that made it less tragic was that he had a chance to help his sons before he died - that he had had one final meeting…”
Sara was still trying to comprehend these words, knowing only a little of Michael’s childhood. They’d both spoken about their fathers’ deaths on those many days travelling through mountains and jungles but she knew there was still a lot to discuss.
“Michael never knew him, and he told me they had less than one day together,….perhaps just a few hours…” and she shook her head as she recalled Michael’s story of his father’s death in the New Mexico desert.
“His father was a very special man, Michael may not have met him but Aldo watched him for years from afar. He was at Michael’s graduation, not in the main crowd of course and he didn’t make himself known but he came back with a gratifying smile on his face and pictures of both the boys.” She paused, a sad look flitting across her face
“Aldo saved me when I was too low to think about anything…but death.” Hearing these appalling words come from the mouth of this woman shocked Sara and she once more let her gaze fall on her.
“I’d met my husband, an American, when I was on a student exchange programme in Houston. We were young and silly and married within the year.” She paused, the trace of a smile on her lips.
“He was murdered over twenty years ago because of something he discovered about the organisation he started working for. It was his first job after college, he was an accountant and they insisted he create accounts that made no sense. Monies coming and going to mysterious groups, operational bank accounts held offshore with no logical explanations, so many rules ignored or broken. When he voiced his concerns, and threatened to report the irregularities. He wasn’t to know he’d signed his own death warrant.
Back then I’m not even sure they had become the all embracing Company that we know today, fingers into everything, Government, military, global corporations, that all came later. Twenty years ago they were just a shadowy organisation that a few people were very slowly beginning to realise existed and that my husband had unwittingly chosen as his first employer.
A few were fighting them…Aldo was one of the leaders and when he found me, doped up with sleeping tablets and anti-depressants weeks after Matthew’s murder he offered me something more,. At the time I thought it was revenge and grasped it vigorously, but now I prefer to see it more as hope. I stayed and helped him fight them, I was quite active in the first ten, fifteen years…but now…well I’m more like the tea lady.” and she turned back to the road with a self deprecating smile on her face.
Half an hour later she turned the car around in the courtyard of the ranch, stopping only to let Sara climb out and leaning across the now empty passenger seat she murmured
“Good luck Sara, he’s worth fighting for…” pausing only to acknowledge the whispered
“Thank you.” in response.
Sara hadn’t even reached the back door of the house before the van trundled back down the hill and out of sight. She hesitated by the door, her fist clenched ready to knock but before she managed to make contact, the door opened and Jen stepped forward silently embracing her.
“Thank god you’re safe Sara!” she exclaimed, and Sara realised guiltily, her mind full of nothing but Michael the previous night, she had failed to call them and allay their fears. Jen pulled back from the hug reluctantly but still holding Sara around the waist she guided her into the house.
~~~~~
Michael read the numbers on the pad Bill had pushed towards him, it was still relatively early and the slightly bitter taste of the breakfast he had been served in his cell was still heavy in his mouth. He’d have killed for some coffee to wash it down with but all they had provided was a small plastic cup of water. Something he would probably have to get used to over the next….he re-checked the figures again. They were Bill’s estimates of the sentence he could expect, the time to serve if he didn’t cooperate. A minimum of 25 years, maximum of life, several times over and no parole, or… worse case scenario if he was found guilty of the Santa Monica murders, Death Row and a lethal injection eventually when the politicians decided it was timely and in their best interests if an elections was close. That was if the State correctional system swallowed him up, if the Feds kept their claws into him he was facing life in Florence ADX …..He felt his mouth dry instantly, and his tongue crept out to furtively lick along his lips.
Bills face had set into one of regretful resignation as he watched his client read his possible future…He’d sat across from many felons in his professional career, had delivered this kind of bad news to many deserving and some undeserving criminals but this somehow was the toughest, and he wasn’t sure why. Michael had undoubtedly committed some of the crimes that warranted these years behind bars but it still felt….wrong.
“I still can’t believe their offer, it stinks Michael!” and he sighed.
Michael‘s gaze had been drawn to the large mirror in the interview room, undoubtedly double sided and probably currently hiding the Agents from view.
“I can.”
He murmured in a voice so soft Bill almost missed it, and then he looked up at the door as it opened and Wheeler entered followed closely behind by Lang.
“Mr Burton, Michael, I hope you had time to think since yesterday?”
Michael pushed the pad back to Bill and shifted in his seat, the long chain that ran down from his cuffs to his waist chain rattling against the metal edge of the table.
“Yes…” he replied, lifting his head to stare at the two Feds defiantly.
“So should we call ahead to Florence and get them to save you a cell with a desert view Michael?” Wheeler added, trying to hide his unease with a poor attempt at a joke.
“Actually come to think of it - I don’t think they have windows….. Life sucks huh?”
Bill frowned, this was just cruel humour and he noticed Michael’s eyes flicker with anger before looking away. He knew his client had endured prison, and knew he still carried both the mental and physical scars of his incarcerations; Wheeler didn’t have a clue what it felt like to face that again.
~~~~
Sara, Bob and Jen had moved out to the garden, a fresh breeze straight off the ocean was teasing the leaves of an orange tree that partially shaded the southern deck and they sat by this as Sara talked through the events of the last day. They both remained silent when she reached the point of Michael’s capture, unable to ignore the hitch in her voice and her eyes swimming behind a thin veil of tears as she described the moment when Michael was taken from her. But the act of recounting had exhausted her, the previous night’s lack of sleep finally catching up and her eyes began to droop. She didn’t resist Jens suggestion that she try and sleep a few hours and nodding her head she thanked them both for once again giving her a refuge and padded barefoot around the deck and pool back to the house.
She slipped her jeans and t-shirt off and folded herself between the sheets, her hand reached out to the pillow next to her, Michael’s and she gripped it, dragging it towards her and burying her nose in the cotton. She was rewarded with the scent of him, still lingering in the fabric and she hugged it to her, her face brushing against it , her senses overloaded once more by this reminder of his presence. She fell into a fitful sleep, her hands still hugging the pillow, her mind full of images of him.
She woke several hours later, lifting her head to check the small clock n the nightstand and seeing the figures 2:14pm in stark white against the black background, thinking that it was about the same time they had captured Michael yesterday. She had survived twenty-four hours without him, his touch, his voice. It felt like the first unbearable step on a journey she had no desire to make and she wondered once again how close this feeling came to bereavement. She lifted herself off the pillow and combed her fingers through her hair. She felt and probably looked incredibly grungy and she dropped her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the shower.
A while later she found Bob and Jen in the kitchen, talking about something that was immediately abandoned when she entered the room.
“Sara how are you feeling …any better?” Bob asked.
“A little.” she lied, and she walked slowly over to the large marble topped breakfast bar and slid onto a high stool next to Jen.
“Coffee or perhaps you’d prefer tea?” Enquired Bob holding up a filter jug and Sara laughed, stunning them both with her reaction.
“I’m sorry.” she said her face immediately returning to the sombre fixed stare of before
“… Its just that I’ve had so many people offer me drinks in the last twenty four hours….its …” and she saw the incomprehensible looks on their faces and shrugged.
“I guess you had to be there…”
Bob smiled,
“I guess, listen, Bill’s on his way over, he’s the lawyer I told you was acting for Michael now?”
Sara nodded
“That’s good…I’d like to ask him what he thinks Michael’s chances are.”
“Yes, of course, but he’s coming I think to talk about yours and how we deal with the accomplice charges.” Bob replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he spoke.
“Ohh…ok.” she replied, almost forgetting for a brief moment that she was still a fugitive and focusing instead on Bob’s use of the word ‘we’. These two strangers were apparently risking themselves to help her and Michael and she wondered how much fate had to play in this.
“Of course…thanks” and she took the cup Bob offered her.
“Can we check the news?” she asked noticing the TV was in drakes..
“Sure.” replied Jen and she reached across for the remote and clicked the set into life.
It was already set on the local news channel, and Sara guessed they had spent quite a long time watching it since she and Michael had left for the rendezvous. They didn’t have to wait long, after just a few minutes the newsreader began her update on what was obviously the top story of the day, Michael’s capture. Accompanied by new film of yet another heavily protected custody van leaving the nether regions of the HQ building, A crowd of journalists and photographers had gathered around the entrance to the underground garage and she watched their cameras flash with a stirring of annoyance.
‘Scofield was taken to an undisclosed federal establishment this lunchtime, and will be held for further questioning and an arraignment before a specially convened court. If convicted on all charges, he could face the death sentence or life in prison with no parole.’
The colour drained from her face, her mouth dropped open and a horrified gasp escaped her lips. But before she could say anything else they heard footsteps in the hall and seconds later Bill walked into the kitchen.
“Back door still unlocked then Bob nothing changes here…thankfully.”
Bob laughed,
“Smelt the coffee huh Bill? Your timing has always been good - take a seat man.”
“Actually….I have someone with me.” and everyone but Sara who was still drawn to the screen in dread fascination turned to see another tall figure enter the room. She was still watching the van, there were no windows, no way of catching one more desperate glimpse of him and it was only then she realised everyone had stilled.
“Sara…”
She heard her name, but her mind seemed to be refusing to accept this.
“Sara …” He tried once again.
She turned on the stool and gasped out a strangled cry.
“Oh my god…Michael…”
In a second she was across the room in a flurry of movement, stopping only when she had reached him and flung her arms around his waist in a vice like grip.
He grinned; adjusting his stance as she almost pushed him over and let his arms loop around her to rest on her waist. They felt each others bodies press close against one another closing their eyes as the warmth permeated through their clothes and into their hearts. Michael lifted a hand and gently stroked her hair before unable to resist a moment longer he let his head drop and placed a soft kiss where his fingers had just trailed.
“How?” she finally managed to whisper unable to believe he was back with her.
“Shhhhh…” he replied, his fingers brushing down her cheeks wiping the tears that were now clinging to her pale skin with the pad of his thumb.
“Hey I’m here…” he spoke, soothingly, trying to reassure her.
“They just let you go?” She asked incredulously.
“Not quite…” and her eyes darkened at his words, a crease deepening into her temple.
“What does that mean…?” noticing immediately the uncomfortable shift in his stance. She stepped back from him.
“Michael….?” her questioning tone caused him to look over to Bill for help.
“Michael did a deal with the Feds Sara…not that he had much choice.”
Michael had stepped closer to her, his fingers now playing with a curl of her hair, an apologetic smile on his face.
“It’s ok Sara…it will work out…trust me.”
Sara gazed into his eyes, falling into them, the deep azure behind long dark lashes….eyes that seemed to offer nothing but complete devotion and love whenever she looked into them.
“What’s the deal?” she heard herself ask and her arms crept once more around his firm body. She felt him inhale, his chest expanding inside the circle of her arms and looked up into his face.
“I have to do one thing for them, if I accomplish that then they will ensure I receive the minimum sentence possible, five years…and then I’m a free man.”
“Five years - that could mean he serves less than three…” Bill added.
“You still have to go to prison?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise
“Even if you do them a favour?” Her hope of him simply walking away evaporating into the air.
“I’m afraid so Sara.” he said once more smoothing his hands across her face to comfort her.
“But then I’m free, no more running, no more subterfuge. I can start again…” and then his finger slipped across to her neck curling around it pulling her closer and he kissed her again, softly, as if she was some delicate wisp of a thing and again hesitantly, conscious of the audience who were all now staring at them.
“…we can start again.”
Bill had stepped up to take the coffee Bob had poured and started to fill some of the details in for everyone’s benefit.
“The deal includes dropping anything they had against you Sara, so you’re no longer considered a wanted person as from now. It also guarantees immunity for you two, the Feds don’t care what you’ve done, end of story.” He said as he turned towards Bob and Jen
Sara was still processing the information and she turned her face back up towards Michael’s.
“So they just let you walk out… but wait …the TV …no one else knows about any of this, that’s a set up?” And she nodded in the direction of the TV and the shots of Michael supposedly being driven away to prison.
“Right.” he murmured back,
“Until I’ve finished the project, people are to think I’m incarcerated somewhere…it helps the Bureau, and it will help me with what I have to do……”
“And what exactly is that?” Asked Bob, leaning across the breakfast counter.
“I have to bring down a General…” Michael replied.
“The General, Jason Leif referred to?” asked Bob quickly making all the connections, the discs, Molly’s murder and the Fed’s interest in dealing rather than locking Michael away forever.
“Yes, that General.” replied Michael, his softly undulating voice surprisingly calm even as they discussed such a daunting task.
“You don’t have to.What’s to stop us from just running again? I mean we could just disappear.” Suggested Sara.
“We could but that means you’re still branded as an accomplice, I’d be back on ‘America’s most wanted’ list again and the Company is free to continue to wreak havoc….oh and there a small matter of this…”he bent down and lifted up the bottom of the left leg of his jeans.
“You’re tagged!” Exclaimed Bob!
“Yes…tagged, an alarm is set off if I tamper with it….I guess they want to make sure I don’t wander too far.”
“Trusting lot aren’t they.” Chuckled Jen
“Not really.” Bill replied, “And I’m not happy about the tag, but it was the only way they would let Michael go today so he figured it was a price worth paying.” Raising his eyebrows and making a small nod in the direction of Sara.
Sara wasn’t surprised to hear that Michael had agreed to it, but she was already nursing her doubts about the deal. It sounded like he didn’t really have a choice but it seemed to her that the authorities were simply making him do a job they considered too dirty and dangerous. She wondered if this was their way of killing two birds with one stone, bring the General down and lose the problem of Michael Scofield at the same time if he didn’t survive….
She raised herself on her tiptoes and whispered something into Michael’s ears that painted a grin across his face and he turned to the others as he grasped her hand.
“I can fill you in all the other details later but Sara thinks I smell like I’ve spent the night in jail and has suggested I clean up a bit…so if you don’t mind?”
They all nodded, understanding that the two of them needed some private time and they agreed to meet at dinner to talk through how they could help Michael. Bob was completely enthused by the chance to get involved, and was already thinking through how he could help with the technology side.
They made it back to the bedroom with great difficulty as neither wanted to let go of the other and climbing the stairs together required some rather advanced coordination. They almost tumbled into the room, and closing the door carefully, they turned and stood facing each other. A nervousness creeping over both of then , an awareness of all the previous times they’d had to say hello…or goodbye suddenly rearing up and causing this moment, the one neither had believed could happen to be imbued with a significance that momentarily paralysed them.
Michael broke the spell by holding out his hand and taking hers, raising it to his lips and kissing her fingertips softly.
“I’m sorry Sara…”
She shook her head slowly, wishing for once he wouldn’t always take the weight of the world upon him.
“What are you apologising for this time?” She asked
“For breaking my promise to you….I left you…” he replied, his hands still clasping hers.
A wry smile crossed her face.
“I’m not sure you had that much choice Michael and please….no more sorry’s we’re together again now and that’s all that counts.”
“For a while…at least…yes” he responded, and instantly regretted that he had felt the need to state the harsh realities of their situation as he saw Sara’s eyes flicker at his words.
He wanted to take that look of hurt from her face and he started to walk her slowly back towards the bed. She understood his intentions and was already reaching for his jeans as she felt the back of the bed against her calves and a moment later was lying horizontal, Michael was kneeling at her side, removing his shirt and finishing the job she had started on his jeans, and Sara pushed her head back, deep into the pillow, her body aching for the physical fulfilment that was now just minutes away. Foreplay seemed redundant, kissing was possibly not a priority, she needed to feel him hard and insistent and in her and she needed that right now. She loved Michael passionately; she loved making love with Michael and tomorrow, with all that would bring, could wait.
Moments later he was hovering above her, an empty foil packet tossed on the floor and a pensive look on his face as if knowing this was just a distraction from more pressing things. She lifted her hand letting it brush down his cheek in encouragement.
“Stop over thinking everything Michael…” she whispered, her voice now throaty with desire. He needed to understand how much she wanted him, how much she always wanted him. But her fingers had confirmed what her eyes had already decided. It was no longer just morning stubble on his cheek.
“The beard has to go. “She murmured and he smiled,
“Your wish is my desire…but not right now….” He replied, before dropping his hips and slowly entering her amid a duet of moans that rose from the bed as they lost themselves in each other.
Afterwards they lay tangled in the sheets, Sara laying on her side, one arm bracing her shoulders and head as she surveyed his body, her fingers tracing down one of the images on his bicep that was now so reassuringly familiar. Her eyes scanned down his torso and onto his long legs, glancing over to see his eyes were still closed; a satisfied curl to his lips and a smile crept onto her face at the most recent memories of how his amazing body had felt on her, in her…
As her eyes continued their journey her curiosity was piqued…and she crawled down to the bottom of the bed lowering her head when she reached his tag.
“Hello testing testing.”
Michael had been on the edge of sleep, his body sated, his mind for a moment empty of anything but the wonderful images of Sara’s face as she had gasped out her climax below him. He raised himself up to try and see what she was doing and his forehead creased into a frown at her strange behaviour.
“Sara what are you doing?”
“Is this thing bugged?”
He laughed, a deep hearty chuckle that she didn’t think she would ever tire of hearing,
“It’s a tag not a listening device.”
“You sure, modern gadgets and all that..?” questioned Sara although her face was alive with a teasing smile.
Well…if it is…” and Michael became thoughtful for a moment as if he was actually weighing up the technical possibilities, before grinning as he spoke.
“I guess we’re really putting on a show for some fed with earphones huddled in a van somewhere.” And Sara laughed, scrunching up her nose into a series of tiny ridges that Michael immediately wanted to smother in kisses.
“Hmm…” and she moved even closer to the tag, her lips just inches from its plastic surface.
“Hellooooo Mr FBI man, if you’re there….Heard enough yet? I hope not …” and she turned and climbed back up Michael’s body, straddling his hips and with a glint on her eyes,
“I do believe an encore is required.”
tbc
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters: Michael, Sara, Lincoln, LJ,OC, Alex, Sofia Gretchen and Whistler
Rating: Probably NC-17 after the first few chapters
Summary: Michael and Sara discover things, good and bad about themselves as they finally start fighting back. All locations mentioned in the story actually exist and can be found on the google map I've made to accompany this fic. It can be found at -
http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=103288565057239961114.000450311da1ba4287bb4&z=4
I apologise for this being so long, but here was an end point I needed to reach and as usual I kinda got distracted.
I'm a spoiler whore by the way and although this story is all mine and the general direction put together in my head a while back I'm a little dismayed to see S4 has some of the same ideas. Not sure what to advise for those who want to remain spoiler free? oh...and can I sue the writers for pinching my ideas? Lol
Chapter 26: Calabasas CA
Sara followed the man wordlessly into the hotel room, her thumb thrust between her teeth as she gnawed at the nail. Her head was down allowing her long hair to fall around her face in an obscuring curtain of red. The men exchanged yet more questioning looks, unsure how to deal with this woman who seemed to be displaying all the recognisable signs of shock.
“There’s room service, would you like a drink or something Sara?” one of them tentatively enquired.
Sara briefly looked up at the man, her eyes widening with surprise at the use of her first name, and for a moment she wondered at how different it sounded coming from the lips of strangers. Then the realisation that she had once again lost Michael crashed into her with the force of a tornado, ripping her apart and shredding her senses until all that she could feel was a deep aching pain in her bones that seemed to seep malignly through her.. She shook her head, and closed her eyes and shutting off all other stimuli she allowed only her memory free reign as it played back the softly sensual tones of his voice whispering her name into her hair as they had made love the previous night….
~~~~~
“Agent Lang, Agent Wheeler!” They turned as one, Lang’s coffee still slurping noisily into the styrofoam cup in the vending machine they had found down one of the endless corridors of the LAPD HQ.
“Detective Wilson has arrived ….the officer leading the Leif homicide? He’s waiting to interview Scofield.” The uniformed officer added a she reacted to their puzzled faces.
“Ahh right…is there somewhere we can talk with him?” asked Lang.
“Sure…you can use interview room three… that’s empty.” she replied.
“Great, show him up then.” And Lang reached for her coffee and headed back down the corridor closely followed by Wheeler.
They had taken seats at the small table in the centre of the room and were sharing yet another hushed conversation when a large red faced man entered the room. He looked puzzled for a moment until Lang realised he was probably expecting to see the prisoner and she immediately stood, offering her hand
“Agent Lang and this is my colleague Agent Wheeler.”
Wilson tipped his head slightly to acknowledge the two Agents although he was wondering why he was talking to them and not Scofield.
“And where’s Scofield?”
“He’s downstairs with his lawyer, they have a lot to discuss as you can imagine.” Responded Wheeler.
Another barely imperceptible nod from the experienced Homicide detective was his only reply and Wheeler sensing the onus was on them to continue began to speak in a measured tone
“He’s you prime suspect in the Leif murder.” making it unclear if this was a question or a statement
“He’s our only suspect, and forensics tie him to the murder scene. I think I’ve found the smoke, I’m just tracking back now to the fire.” He added with a knowing grin,
“That’s usually how it works with these things I find…” he added, still not quite sure how two Federal agents fitted into his investigation, but if this turned into a pissing contest he was determined to win it.
Lang nodded but her eyes were still on her colleague as he continued.
“Detective Wilson, we’ve already had a preliminary session with the prisoner, as you can understand there are a plethora of charges he’s facing, many other States are interested in him.”
“I would have thought a homicide was pretty high up the list” was Wilson’s flat reply, his eyes staring back at Wheeler.
“Of course…but there are issues the Bureau need to manage here. Scofield has made an initial statement to us about the events in Scottsdale.”
“You didn’t wait for me? What did he say?” his frustration obvious.
“He was very keen to talk and he was being advised by his lawyer, we have the tapes of course.”
“Fine, fine but what did he say?” Wilson’s impatience now straining at the leash.
“He admits to being in the house and meeting Molly Leif but states she was murdered by one of your own officers shortly after he had left her.”
Wilson’s mouth formed a small O in mute shock at these words, and it was several seconds before he recovered enough to ask the question the agents had been expecting.
“Well that sounds like the words of a desperate man. Who? Which of my officers did the bastard name?”
“He said the officer’s name is….” and Lang pulled a small notebook from her jacket pocket flicking through the lined pages to a set of pencil notes “… Philip Macken and he’s willing to identify him in a line up if necessary.”
Wilson exhaled a long sigh, his hand sweeping up through his thinning hair in a gesture of unease.
“Scofield is obviously a very clever con. How long has he been in custody for?”
Wheeler looked puzzled,
“Ummm I’m not sure, since mid afternoon?”
Wilson started nodding his head slowly,
“Enough time then before he was apprehended.”
“Enough time to do what?” asked Lang, sensing this discussion was veering off track and out of her control and having no idea why.
“To hear that Officer Macken was shot and killed by a punk last night in the line of duty…gunned down at a gas station by some guy for no apparent reason. We haven’t caught the guy yet, but we will…so is it coincidental that Scofield has named the only officer in the department who can’t defend himself…”
Wheeler and Lang exchanged more glances,
“Don’t tell me you believe the scumbag?” Wilson now cried out,
“He obviously heard the news and then decided to try and pin it on Phil…”
“That is one explanation…” replied Lang slowly.
~~~~~
The two men huddled together in the corner of the large room sharing a whispered conversation and occasionally glancing back at the small frame of the woman. She was now sitting hunched up on the bed, her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them protectively. It was with evident sighs of relief they hurried towards the door on hearing three short sharp knocks. It was opened, and the woman from the pier entered the room taking in Sara’s figure and the concern on the men’s faces in seconds. She made her way straight to the tray holding the tea and coffee making facilities
“We could all do with a good cup of tea.” She murmured and clicked the kettle on with a switch, busying around with the cups and saucers and the individual tea bags..
“Goodness me so many fruit teas, I’ve never understood the appeal of fruit teas. What we need now is a good strong cup of proper tea really.” Her rather clipped vowels softened by the warm and friendly tone of her voice.
Sara if she was listening made no reaction, and only buried her head further into her arms when the tea was finally made and offered to her with the comforting words
“Drink it while it’s hot, it’s very good for shock…”
The woman tutted several times when there was still no movement from Sara and placed the cup on the nightstand, moving quickly to the large TV she picked up the remote
“Right lets see where they’ve taken him shall we dear?”
Sara lifted her head, her eyes heavy with tears she was fighting and failing to control, and peered at the set when she heard the TV blare into life.
The English woman was clicking her way through the list of channels, trying to find a local news programme.
“Ah here’s one”
Earlier today Michael Scofield the Fox River mastermind was recaptured in Santa Monica at the scene of a double homicide. He was taken to LAPD HQ in downtown LA. Our Channel Seven reporter at the scene says he remains inside the building and we understand he is being questioned about the murder of two men at Santa Monica pier and the still unsolved murder of Molly Leif from Scottsdale Arizona.
Sara could only manage a mangled groan before once more hiding her face within her arms. The woman seemed to take this as some kind of condemnation of their action down on the pier and responded accordingly.
“I’m sorry Dear, but we didn’t really have a choice, He was about to be taken and once the company get you there is rarely a way back….”
“They think he murdered those two men!” Sara’s voice was surprisingly strong despite the tears now flowing freely,
“They’re going to charge him with those murders and he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison…oh no wait….” and she let out a short hysterical laugh.
“We’re in California now, they have the death penalty here…freaking wonderful….”
The woman had let her finish, patiently sitting in the chair with a cup of tea in one hand, smoothing out her skirt with the other.
“We all know they won’t find any evidence he shot those men Sara, although I have to admit the charges in Scottsdale will be harder to dodge …does he have a good lawyer? We could certainly help fund one for him, if that will be a problem?”
Sara looked up and barely managed to restrain from snorting….
“A good lawyer? He’s going to need a magician not a lawyer to even start fighting this….”
The woman had been sipping at her tea and she stopped the cup half way to her lips and stared at Sara.
“As I said before, we can try and help Michael but actually my major concern right now is you young woman. This was supposed to be an initial meet, we’re not set up to bring you in yet, and more to the pint, I’m not convinced yet, you really want to join us….”
Sara started to smile at the astuteness of the woman’s words, then started shaking her head slowly from side to side she said.
“I was always the weak link wasn’t I? It was Michael you really wanted…well you’re right, I’m not sure what I want to do right now, I cant think beyond the fact that he’s not here”, and her head turned back to the TV in time to catch film showing the earlier arrival of a large security van at the entrance to the LAPD underground car park.
“He’s in there, he needs you guys now, tell me what you can do?”
The woman’s face broke into a soft sympathetic smile.
“Sara you know we can’t rescue him from there…not now, not with all the publicity, but at last he’s relatively safe. He’ll be on doubled guards, his cell monitored 24/7 if we can’t reach him then neither can the Company at the moment, its status quo…”
Sara turned away from the woman; she couldn’t bear to here her words even though she knew they made sense.
“Now drink your tea, and we can have a little chat about what you do next…..”
~~~~~
Michael paced his cell, backwards and forwards, occasionally rubbing his hands together as he moved, thankful, for the first time since he had been hauled up to his knees from the asphalt, that his hands were no longer cuffed. The cell was not large, less than six ft square, one corner taken up with the brushed steel toilet and a concrete shelf fulfilled the role of a bed and stretched fully across one wall. It was just a holding cell, not designed for extended stay so there were no blankets, or pillows, just a plastic padded mattress only a couple of inches thick resting on the shelf. They’d taken his watch but Michael knew it must be the early hours of the morning now, since according to the clock in the interview room Bill had not left him until 2am and he’d been pacing now for at least an hour.
The lights were full on, blanketing the room in a harsh brightness that bleached the colours out of the concrete and walls. He was obviously under constant surveillance since he’d seen inquisitive eyes peer at him through the metal slit on the door several times even in the short time since he’d been placed here. At least he assumed these were planned checks. He had been unable to ignore the intense interest his capture had apparently caused when he was brought here. An eerie silence had fallen followed by an audible buzz as he was guided through the corridors by two jubilant cops. Officers appeared at doors or stopped what they were doing to stare, and he had reacted by keeping his head low, avoiding any eye contact…hating the infamy his name now attracted. Perhaps the constant procession of cops at the door was just sightseeing….Michael wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed or relieved by the apparent care the LAPD were taking with him. There had been a small but constant fear niggling away at him since arriving at the station that a Company man could get to him. The extra security, the doubling up the guards on him, the cops’ curiosity left him with little privacy but was in a way strangely reassuring.
His eye caught the piece of paper the two agents had insisted he to take back to his cell. He wasn’t stupid he knew they were playing him but he couldn’t stop himself picking up the densely typed sheet to read it again.
Visiting Regulations at ADX Florence
He knew this was the federal supermax prison somewhere in Colorado. He’d researched it briefly when he was building up information for the Fox River escape. His research had given him the facts, it was only after talking in the prison yard one day with a con who had transferred over from it did he get the real low down….
Skimming down he could see there were different regulations for the various units within the prison. But even the general units were far stricter than Fox River which was a Maximum security state penitentiary and therefore supposed to be a tough place to do your time.
Unit H’s regulation had been highlighted to draw his attention to the additional security measures…only video visiting was allowed, no face to face contact, not even with a Plexiglas barrier, the prisoners and their visitors weren’t even in the same room….he couldn’t imagine putting Sara through that…Michael read it again and shook his head…he’d expected threats, but actually seeing the reality of what his life behind bars could become was still shocking and he tossed the paper back onto the shelf bed as the first few tendrils of doubt began to wind their way inside his previously solid defence.
He stepped up onto the shelf, stretching his neck to peer out of the high slit of a window at the top of the cell wall. With the light from his cell and the mirroring glare from the lights of downtown LA the night sky was far from dark, the stars if they were there were invisible to his eyes. But he peered up into the sky anyway, and wondered whether Sara was seeing the same as him……His eyes darkened, his lips setting into a tight line and his hand swept across his chin feeling the now softening stubble on his chin and wondered how many days he’d gone without shaving. An embryonic beard had formed and for a moment his thoughts were on Sara and what she would think if he let it grow.
~~~~
Unbeknown to Michael, Sara was also restless and awake in the still early hours of the day. The hotel room was airless even with the aircon going full pelt and although she had tried to doze, fully clothed on top of the bed she was unable to grab more than a couple of hours sleep. The TV flickered eerily in the darkness, the woman was sitting in a chair, watching a cookery programme, and lifted her head when she saw Sara stir once more before stretching her legs and shifted off the bed.
“Can I get you a cup of tea?” The woman asked and Sara smiled at what had become a stock response from this mystery lady.
“No I just can’t sleep,” and she walked over to the French windows and out onto the small balcony, closing them behind her. She stepped up to the railing feeling the humid air of the night surround her, and wondered once again where she was. A few miles on the other side of the hills that cradled the north of LA, she guessed and she looked over to her right and saw the vague outline of more hills. Possibly the same hills that hid the canyon road that led to Bob and Jen.
The hotel was just off a busy freeway and the deep rumble of the traffic on the grey pink concrete thrummed away in the background. Across the street were some 24 hr fast food places, and the smell of greasy chicken and Mexican food hung in the air almost like a faint miasma. She looked up, and beyond the haze from the street lights, she could see the sky darken and as she stared she could see hundreds of tiny pin pricks of light focus into stars before her. She smiled, remembering back to the many nights she and Michael had gazed up at the heavens on their trip back to the States, so many nights so many stars and she crossed her arms, her hands smoothing down her skin as her mind once again turned to thoughts of Michael…was he ok? Was he scared...? Had he given up hope…?
She turned to go back inside, weary of the internal battle that she had been constantly fighting in her head since the van doors had closed on her. What should she do next? But any thoughts seemed to melt away like mist in a morning as she tried to concentrate, distracted as she was by the yearning her body felt for this man who had seeped through her skin and become part of her life, her soul.
She tried again, focused her mind and realised the problem. She was trying to make the decision as if she was Michael, what would he do? What would be his plan? But with a shuddering clarity of thought she stepped back into the room, she would do what she needed…wanted…what she thought was best. And suddenly what seemed to be the most selfish of answers now appeared to be simply the only one …
~~~~
She awoke the next morning and knew she wouldn’t change her mind. A few hours of dream ladened sleep, in which a silent Michael was always just a few feet beyond her outstretched hand, had only strengthened her will.
“Take me back please.”
The words had been spoken, the decision made. The woman, paused before answering, then nodding to her colleagues she simply picked up the keys from the table,
“Rightio dear,”
“Wait don’t you want to know where to?” asked Sara.
“I’m assuming you want to go back to the Sundown Ranch, Sara?” the woman’s answer was casual, despite Sara’s shocked reaction.
“How do you know about that?” she asked as she followed this intriguing woman out of the door and into the bright sunshine of a California morning.
“You think the Company are the only ones who trace cell phones dear?” And she smiled benignly shaking her head.
“We had your location plotted by the end of our call to Michael. But don’t worry, your friend’s are safe, I sent someone to check last night, after the snatch.”
Sara breathed out a sigh of relief at someone finally stating and then removing one of her worries, because if the Company had managed to find them, perhaps they’d found Bob and Jen too…
They’d been driving for quite a while in a silence that Sara had found comforting but the woman ended it with a question that suggested this was more than just a delivery job to her.
“Do you think you made the right decision?” the woman asked as she negotiated a bend on the road up through the steep hills.
Sara didn’t answer immediately, but then glancing across at the woman she nodded.
“Yes he needs me, and if that just means a face in the courtroom, a visitors name on the list, a hand on the mesh screen between us, then I will be there for him. I’ll fight any charges they try to bring against me because I have to remain free for his sake. He will need me...” she stated again, repeating a mantra she had been mouthing almost unconsciously ever since she’d returned to the room the night before.
The woman smiled,
“I understand. There is something special about that man. I could see it, even in the few briefs seconds we met, it’s in his eyes, he is so very much like his father.”
Sara whipped her head round to face the woman.
“You knew his Dad?”
The woman nodded,
“For many years, and like everyone I was devastated when I heard the news of his death. The only thing that made it less tragic was that he had a chance to help his sons before he died - that he had had one final meeting…”
Sara was still trying to comprehend these words, knowing only a little of Michael’s childhood. They’d both spoken about their fathers’ deaths on those many days travelling through mountains and jungles but she knew there was still a lot to discuss.
“Michael never knew him, and he told me they had less than one day together,….perhaps just a few hours…” and she shook her head as she recalled Michael’s story of his father’s death in the New Mexico desert.
“His father was a very special man, Michael may not have met him but Aldo watched him for years from afar. He was at Michael’s graduation, not in the main crowd of course and he didn’t make himself known but he came back with a gratifying smile on his face and pictures of both the boys.” She paused, a sad look flitting across her face
“Aldo saved me when I was too low to think about anything…but death.” Hearing these appalling words come from the mouth of this woman shocked Sara and she once more let her gaze fall on her.
“I’d met my husband, an American, when I was on a student exchange programme in Houston. We were young and silly and married within the year.” She paused, the trace of a smile on her lips.
“He was murdered over twenty years ago because of something he discovered about the organisation he started working for. It was his first job after college, he was an accountant and they insisted he create accounts that made no sense. Monies coming and going to mysterious groups, operational bank accounts held offshore with no logical explanations, so many rules ignored or broken. When he voiced his concerns, and threatened to report the irregularities. He wasn’t to know he’d signed his own death warrant.
Back then I’m not even sure they had become the all embracing Company that we know today, fingers into everything, Government, military, global corporations, that all came later. Twenty years ago they were just a shadowy organisation that a few people were very slowly beginning to realise existed and that my husband had unwittingly chosen as his first employer.
A few were fighting them…Aldo was one of the leaders and when he found me, doped up with sleeping tablets and anti-depressants weeks after Matthew’s murder he offered me something more,. At the time I thought it was revenge and grasped it vigorously, but now I prefer to see it more as hope. I stayed and helped him fight them, I was quite active in the first ten, fifteen years…but now…well I’m more like the tea lady.” and she turned back to the road with a self deprecating smile on her face.
Half an hour later she turned the car around in the courtyard of the ranch, stopping only to let Sara climb out and leaning across the now empty passenger seat she murmured
“Good luck Sara, he’s worth fighting for…” pausing only to acknowledge the whispered
“Thank you.” in response.
Sara hadn’t even reached the back door of the house before the van trundled back down the hill and out of sight. She hesitated by the door, her fist clenched ready to knock but before she managed to make contact, the door opened and Jen stepped forward silently embracing her.
“Thank god you’re safe Sara!” she exclaimed, and Sara realised guiltily, her mind full of nothing but Michael the previous night, she had failed to call them and allay their fears. Jen pulled back from the hug reluctantly but still holding Sara around the waist she guided her into the house.
~~~~~
Michael read the numbers on the pad Bill had pushed towards him, it was still relatively early and the slightly bitter taste of the breakfast he had been served in his cell was still heavy in his mouth. He’d have killed for some coffee to wash it down with but all they had provided was a small plastic cup of water. Something he would probably have to get used to over the next….he re-checked the figures again. They were Bill’s estimates of the sentence he could expect, the time to serve if he didn’t cooperate. A minimum of 25 years, maximum of life, several times over and no parole, or… worse case scenario if he was found guilty of the Santa Monica murders, Death Row and a lethal injection eventually when the politicians decided it was timely and in their best interests if an elections was close. That was if the State correctional system swallowed him up, if the Feds kept their claws into him he was facing life in Florence ADX …..He felt his mouth dry instantly, and his tongue crept out to furtively lick along his lips.
Bills face had set into one of regretful resignation as he watched his client read his possible future…He’d sat across from many felons in his professional career, had delivered this kind of bad news to many deserving and some undeserving criminals but this somehow was the toughest, and he wasn’t sure why. Michael had undoubtedly committed some of the crimes that warranted these years behind bars but it still felt….wrong.
“I still can’t believe their offer, it stinks Michael!” and he sighed.
Michael‘s gaze had been drawn to the large mirror in the interview room, undoubtedly double sided and probably currently hiding the Agents from view.
“I can.”
He murmured in a voice so soft Bill almost missed it, and then he looked up at the door as it opened and Wheeler entered followed closely behind by Lang.
“Mr Burton, Michael, I hope you had time to think since yesterday?”
Michael pushed the pad back to Bill and shifted in his seat, the long chain that ran down from his cuffs to his waist chain rattling against the metal edge of the table.
“Yes…” he replied, lifting his head to stare at the two Feds defiantly.
“So should we call ahead to Florence and get them to save you a cell with a desert view Michael?” Wheeler added, trying to hide his unease with a poor attempt at a joke.
“Actually come to think of it - I don’t think they have windows….. Life sucks huh?”
Bill frowned, this was just cruel humour and he noticed Michael’s eyes flicker with anger before looking away. He knew his client had endured prison, and knew he still carried both the mental and physical scars of his incarcerations; Wheeler didn’t have a clue what it felt like to face that again.
~~~~
Sara, Bob and Jen had moved out to the garden, a fresh breeze straight off the ocean was teasing the leaves of an orange tree that partially shaded the southern deck and they sat by this as Sara talked through the events of the last day. They both remained silent when she reached the point of Michael’s capture, unable to ignore the hitch in her voice and her eyes swimming behind a thin veil of tears as she described the moment when Michael was taken from her. But the act of recounting had exhausted her, the previous night’s lack of sleep finally catching up and her eyes began to droop. She didn’t resist Jens suggestion that she try and sleep a few hours and nodding her head she thanked them both for once again giving her a refuge and padded barefoot around the deck and pool back to the house.
She slipped her jeans and t-shirt off and folded herself between the sheets, her hand reached out to the pillow next to her, Michael’s and she gripped it, dragging it towards her and burying her nose in the cotton. She was rewarded with the scent of him, still lingering in the fabric and she hugged it to her, her face brushing against it , her senses overloaded once more by this reminder of his presence. She fell into a fitful sleep, her hands still hugging the pillow, her mind full of images of him.
She woke several hours later, lifting her head to check the small clock n the nightstand and seeing the figures 2:14pm in stark white against the black background, thinking that it was about the same time they had captured Michael yesterday. She had survived twenty-four hours without him, his touch, his voice. It felt like the first unbearable step on a journey she had no desire to make and she wondered once again how close this feeling came to bereavement. She lifted herself off the pillow and combed her fingers through her hair. She felt and probably looked incredibly grungy and she dropped her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the shower.
A while later she found Bob and Jen in the kitchen, talking about something that was immediately abandoned when she entered the room.
“Sara how are you feeling …any better?” Bob asked.
“A little.” she lied, and she walked slowly over to the large marble topped breakfast bar and slid onto a high stool next to Jen.
“Coffee or perhaps you’d prefer tea?” Enquired Bob holding up a filter jug and Sara laughed, stunning them both with her reaction.
“I’m sorry.” she said her face immediately returning to the sombre fixed stare of before
“… Its just that I’ve had so many people offer me drinks in the last twenty four hours….its …” and she saw the incomprehensible looks on their faces and shrugged.
“I guess you had to be there…”
Bob smiled,
“I guess, listen, Bill’s on his way over, he’s the lawyer I told you was acting for Michael now?”
Sara nodded
“That’s good…I’d like to ask him what he thinks Michael’s chances are.”
“Yes, of course, but he’s coming I think to talk about yours and how we deal with the accomplice charges.” Bob replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he spoke.
“Ohh…ok.” she replied, almost forgetting for a brief moment that she was still a fugitive and focusing instead on Bob’s use of the word ‘we’. These two strangers were apparently risking themselves to help her and Michael and she wondered how much fate had to play in this.
“Of course…thanks” and she took the cup Bob offered her.
“Can we check the news?” she asked noticing the TV was in drakes..
“Sure.” replied Jen and she reached across for the remote and clicked the set into life.
It was already set on the local news channel, and Sara guessed they had spent quite a long time watching it since she and Michael had left for the rendezvous. They didn’t have to wait long, after just a few minutes the newsreader began her update on what was obviously the top story of the day, Michael’s capture. Accompanied by new film of yet another heavily protected custody van leaving the nether regions of the HQ building, A crowd of journalists and photographers had gathered around the entrance to the underground garage and she watched their cameras flash with a stirring of annoyance.
‘Scofield was taken to an undisclosed federal establishment this lunchtime, and will be held for further questioning and an arraignment before a specially convened court. If convicted on all charges, he could face the death sentence or life in prison with no parole.’
The colour drained from her face, her mouth dropped open and a horrified gasp escaped her lips. But before she could say anything else they heard footsteps in the hall and seconds later Bill walked into the kitchen.
“Back door still unlocked then Bob nothing changes here…thankfully.”
Bob laughed,
“Smelt the coffee huh Bill? Your timing has always been good - take a seat man.”
“Actually….I have someone with me.” and everyone but Sara who was still drawn to the screen in dread fascination turned to see another tall figure enter the room. She was still watching the van, there were no windows, no way of catching one more desperate glimpse of him and it was only then she realised everyone had stilled.
“Sara…”
She heard her name, but her mind seemed to be refusing to accept this.
“Sara …” He tried once again.
She turned on the stool and gasped out a strangled cry.
“Oh my god…Michael…”
In a second she was across the room in a flurry of movement, stopping only when she had reached him and flung her arms around his waist in a vice like grip.
He grinned; adjusting his stance as she almost pushed him over and let his arms loop around her to rest on her waist. They felt each others bodies press close against one another closing their eyes as the warmth permeated through their clothes and into their hearts. Michael lifted a hand and gently stroked her hair before unable to resist a moment longer he let his head drop and placed a soft kiss where his fingers had just trailed.
“How?” she finally managed to whisper unable to believe he was back with her.
“Shhhhh…” he replied, his fingers brushing down her cheeks wiping the tears that were now clinging to her pale skin with the pad of his thumb.
“Hey I’m here…” he spoke, soothingly, trying to reassure her.
“They just let you go?” She asked incredulously.
“Not quite…” and her eyes darkened at his words, a crease deepening into her temple.
“What does that mean…?” noticing immediately the uncomfortable shift in his stance. She stepped back from him.
“Michael….?” her questioning tone caused him to look over to Bill for help.
“Michael did a deal with the Feds Sara…not that he had much choice.”
Michael had stepped closer to her, his fingers now playing with a curl of her hair, an apologetic smile on his face.
“It’s ok Sara…it will work out…trust me.”
Sara gazed into his eyes, falling into them, the deep azure behind long dark lashes….eyes that seemed to offer nothing but complete devotion and love whenever she looked into them.
“What’s the deal?” she heard herself ask and her arms crept once more around his firm body. She felt him inhale, his chest expanding inside the circle of her arms and looked up into his face.
“I have to do one thing for them, if I accomplish that then they will ensure I receive the minimum sentence possible, five years…and then I’m a free man.”
“Five years - that could mean he serves less than three…” Bill added.
“You still have to go to prison?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise
“Even if you do them a favour?” Her hope of him simply walking away evaporating into the air.
“I’m afraid so Sara.” he said once more smoothing his hands across her face to comfort her.
“But then I’m free, no more running, no more subterfuge. I can start again…” and then his finger slipped across to her neck curling around it pulling her closer and he kissed her again, softly, as if she was some delicate wisp of a thing and again hesitantly, conscious of the audience who were all now staring at them.
“…we can start again.”
Bill had stepped up to take the coffee Bob had poured and started to fill some of the details in for everyone’s benefit.
“The deal includes dropping anything they had against you Sara, so you’re no longer considered a wanted person as from now. It also guarantees immunity for you two, the Feds don’t care what you’ve done, end of story.” He said as he turned towards Bob and Jen
Sara was still processing the information and she turned her face back up towards Michael’s.
“So they just let you walk out… but wait …the TV …no one else knows about any of this, that’s a set up?” And she nodded in the direction of the TV and the shots of Michael supposedly being driven away to prison.
“Right.” he murmured back,
“Until I’ve finished the project, people are to think I’m incarcerated somewhere…it helps the Bureau, and it will help me with what I have to do……”
“And what exactly is that?” Asked Bob, leaning across the breakfast counter.
“I have to bring down a General…” Michael replied.
“The General, Jason Leif referred to?” asked Bob quickly making all the connections, the discs, Molly’s murder and the Fed’s interest in dealing rather than locking Michael away forever.
“Yes, that General.” replied Michael, his softly undulating voice surprisingly calm even as they discussed such a daunting task.
“You don’t have to.What’s to stop us from just running again? I mean we could just disappear.” Suggested Sara.
“We could but that means you’re still branded as an accomplice, I’d be back on ‘America’s most wanted’ list again and the Company is free to continue to wreak havoc….oh and there a small matter of this…”he bent down and lifted up the bottom of the left leg of his jeans.
“You’re tagged!” Exclaimed Bob!
“Yes…tagged, an alarm is set off if I tamper with it….I guess they want to make sure I don’t wander too far.”
“Trusting lot aren’t they.” Chuckled Jen
“Not really.” Bill replied, “And I’m not happy about the tag, but it was the only way they would let Michael go today so he figured it was a price worth paying.” Raising his eyebrows and making a small nod in the direction of Sara.
Sara wasn’t surprised to hear that Michael had agreed to it, but she was already nursing her doubts about the deal. It sounded like he didn’t really have a choice but it seemed to her that the authorities were simply making him do a job they considered too dirty and dangerous. She wondered if this was their way of killing two birds with one stone, bring the General down and lose the problem of Michael Scofield at the same time if he didn’t survive….
She raised herself on her tiptoes and whispered something into Michael’s ears that painted a grin across his face and he turned to the others as he grasped her hand.
“I can fill you in all the other details later but Sara thinks I smell like I’ve spent the night in jail and has suggested I clean up a bit…so if you don’t mind?”
They all nodded, understanding that the two of them needed some private time and they agreed to meet at dinner to talk through how they could help Michael. Bob was completely enthused by the chance to get involved, and was already thinking through how he could help with the technology side.
They made it back to the bedroom with great difficulty as neither wanted to let go of the other and climbing the stairs together required some rather advanced coordination. They almost tumbled into the room, and closing the door carefully, they turned and stood facing each other. A nervousness creeping over both of then , an awareness of all the previous times they’d had to say hello…or goodbye suddenly rearing up and causing this moment, the one neither had believed could happen to be imbued with a significance that momentarily paralysed them.
Michael broke the spell by holding out his hand and taking hers, raising it to his lips and kissing her fingertips softly.
“I’m sorry Sara…”
She shook her head slowly, wishing for once he wouldn’t always take the weight of the world upon him.
“What are you apologising for this time?” She asked
“For breaking my promise to you….I left you…” he replied, his hands still clasping hers.
A wry smile crossed her face.
“I’m not sure you had that much choice Michael and please….no more sorry’s we’re together again now and that’s all that counts.”
“For a while…at least…yes” he responded, and instantly regretted that he had felt the need to state the harsh realities of their situation as he saw Sara’s eyes flicker at his words.
He wanted to take that look of hurt from her face and he started to walk her slowly back towards the bed. She understood his intentions and was already reaching for his jeans as she felt the back of the bed against her calves and a moment later was lying horizontal, Michael was kneeling at her side, removing his shirt and finishing the job she had started on his jeans, and Sara pushed her head back, deep into the pillow, her body aching for the physical fulfilment that was now just minutes away. Foreplay seemed redundant, kissing was possibly not a priority, she needed to feel him hard and insistent and in her and she needed that right now. She loved Michael passionately; she loved making love with Michael and tomorrow, with all that would bring, could wait.
Moments later he was hovering above her, an empty foil packet tossed on the floor and a pensive look on his face as if knowing this was just a distraction from more pressing things. She lifted her hand letting it brush down his cheek in encouragement.
“Stop over thinking everything Michael…” she whispered, her voice now throaty with desire. He needed to understand how much she wanted him, how much she always wanted him. But her fingers had confirmed what her eyes had already decided. It was no longer just morning stubble on his cheek.
“The beard has to go. “She murmured and he smiled,
“Your wish is my desire…but not right now….” He replied, before dropping his hips and slowly entering her amid a duet of moans that rose from the bed as they lost themselves in each other.
Afterwards they lay tangled in the sheets, Sara laying on her side, one arm bracing her shoulders and head as she surveyed his body, her fingers tracing down one of the images on his bicep that was now so reassuringly familiar. Her eyes scanned down his torso and onto his long legs, glancing over to see his eyes were still closed; a satisfied curl to his lips and a smile crept onto her face at the most recent memories of how his amazing body had felt on her, in her…
As her eyes continued their journey her curiosity was piqued…and she crawled down to the bottom of the bed lowering her head when she reached his tag.
“Hello testing testing.”
Michael had been on the edge of sleep, his body sated, his mind for a moment empty of anything but the wonderful images of Sara’s face as she had gasped out her climax below him. He raised himself up to try and see what she was doing and his forehead creased into a frown at her strange behaviour.
“Sara what are you doing?”
“Is this thing bugged?”
He laughed, a deep hearty chuckle that she didn’t think she would ever tire of hearing,
“It’s a tag not a listening device.”
“You sure, modern gadgets and all that..?” questioned Sara although her face was alive with a teasing smile.
Well…if it is…” and Michael became thoughtful for a moment as if he was actually weighing up the technical possibilities, before grinning as he spoke.
“I guess we’re really putting on a show for some fed with earphones huddled in a van somewhere.” And Sara laughed, scrunching up her nose into a series of tiny ridges that Michael immediately wanted to smother in kisses.
“Hmm…” and she moved even closer to the tag, her lips just inches from its plastic surface.
“Hellooooo Mr FBI man, if you’re there….Heard enough yet? I hope not …” and she turned and climbed back up Michael’s body, straddling his hips and with a glint on her eyes,
“I do believe an encore is required.”
tbc