One Way to Stay Out of Jail

Sean nodded. "That was the gist of it. I wandered in behind some of the guys offloading the paper. I used my silencer to quietly put down a few who cornered me in a hallway. When I ran out of ammunition for that gun, I resorted to some homemade weapons for silent kills. But I discovered that wouldn't be able to get through to the boss's office unless I cleared a path."

Athena tapped the burned out printer. "And you decided to take out their press."

"Bingo. It was the one thing I knew would draw everyone's attention. And it worked. Until they saw me moving in the opposite direction. Then they opened fire on me. The inconsiderate bastards. After that, I needed to get ... creative."

"And then things got messy," Edward joked.

Athena Marcowitz nodded. "Okay. What happened to the plates?"

"What plates?" Sean answered. "There weren't any dinner plates."

"What were you doing there, really? And what did you do with the plates? Don't play dumb, with me, Mr. Ryan, "

Edward leaned forward and said, "I don't know how much you've read about him, agent, but I don't think he's playing."

"Nah," Sean agreed, "I prefer target shooting."

Edward gave a short, sharp laugh. "Of course you do."

"Back on track," Athena Marcowitz corrected. "The plates? You know what was there, you made your improvised bomb with the chemicals they used to print the money."

Edward blinked, but said nothing, as little pieces starting clicking in his brain. The industrial machines that Sean had set on fire—industrial printing presses to make counterfeit bills. Which was why this leggy drink of water from the Secret Service was doing here; they investigated counterfeiting. But why were the plates missing? He and Sean were the only ones to walk out of there.

Sean leaned back in his chair, the amused glint in his eye returning. "Before I answer that, I want you to think about joining my firm."

Agent Marcowitz blinked. "Is that a bribe?"

Sean visibly winced. "No. It's a job offer."

"Then no," she answered him.

He rolled his eyes. "Now really think about it."

Athena bunched up her mouth, and said, "Why should I?"

"Because you're Secret Service, and half of my job is protection, so you'd be perfect."

"And the other half?"

"Indulging in a license to kill anyone dumb enough to give us a halfway legal reason to end them."

"There are other Service agents around, Mr. Ryan, now—"

"Not only are you a Secret Service agent," Sean interrupted, "you carry three guns and a knife, and you're pretty enough to make even professional tough guys like Edward here phase out for a half-second—which is twice as long as you or I would need to take out most anyone who got in our way. And you know when to press and when to get your finger off the button. You played the weapon card very well, and you knew to get off the subject of Mitch when you read my reaction. You're good. Besides, when was the last time you protected someone important?"

Athena blinked. "What do you—?"

"Come on," he said. "You're here in LA chasing down counterfeiters, and I sure as heck know I haven't seen you running alongside a Presidential limo lately. When was the last time you protected someone that you yourself deemed important? Or was it you and a bunch of detail fellows guarding a lazy ambassador who you wanted to assassinate yourself?"

Athena didn't answer for a long moment. It was obvious to everyone in that room that the Secret Service agent started to seriously consider the offer. The moment passed, and she said, "The plates, Mr. Ryan?"

Sean smiled. "Still Mister Ryan, is it? Well, then, I think it's time for me to talk about what I want."

She arched a brow. "Really? And what's that?"

Sean pointed to Edward over the shoulder with his thumb "I want Mr. Levine here released. Today. He came to lend aid at risk to himself, with no prospect of reward. His employment with my company can terminate five minutes after he's released, if he so desires, but until then, he's my people." He looked over his shoulder at Edward. "I'll even give you severance pay. Trust me, you earned it."

Sean looked back to Athena. "We both know that I'm going to have more problems with the weapons charge than anything else. A sound-suppressor is illegal unless you're in law enforcement or the military. I'm many things, but I don't have a license to be Blackwater. Now, given the weaponry in that place, and the bad guys involved, few people would convict me, even in Hell-A, and I pity the prosecutor who would dare try. The weapons charges would be ... annoying. I want them to go away. I want Mr. Levine and myself to get the heck outta this building today. Not tomorrow, not even after midnight. Today."

The Secret Service Agent cocked her head. "After midnight? Does that mean you turn into a pumpkin or a gremlin?"

Sean gave a little smile. "Yeah, sure, just call me Gizmo."

Athena rolled her eyes. "Uh huh ... Now, seriously, what is it? You have a hot date?"

Sean chuckled. "Yes. Her name's Inna. She's my girlfriend. I told her I wouldn't be late this time. We have reservations." Sean's eyes leveled with hers. "Now, cut out the games. We both know this is just expedition of what will happen anyway. That's all I want. And then, I'll give you the plates."

Athena looked at the two-way mirror, nodded, and the door opened. A lawyer walked in from the District Attorney's office, papers in hand. Sean took them, and looked them over. The papers were for complete amnesty for what had happened in the warehouse -- weapons charges, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, murders one and two, manslaughter, everything. The surprising part was that they were for both him and Edward.

Sean blinked in surprised, then smiled. He took out a pen and started to sign the papers. "Very well played, Agent Marcowitz. You always try to anticipate behavior?"

"I'm Secret Service," she answered, "that's what we do. Besides, as you said, it's simple expedition."

Sean nodded, and spent a few more minutes signing off on forms that were almost all in triplicate. "I am definitely going to have to reiterate that job offer. I like you even more now." He looked up. "You have them, by the way," Sean told her. "The plates."

"No, we don't."

He signed the last page and dated it, slapped the pen on the papers, and slid them over. "Tell them to clean off the blood."

"Blood?" Agent Marcowitz looked down at the file, and started sorting through all of it, looking for the photos. There, at the bottom, she found a picture. It was of the owner of the operation, or what was left of his face. She knew there had been something wrong at the time, but she didn't know what.

In the middle of the man's forehead was the impression of the corner of a $20 bill.

"You beat him with the plates?"

"Yup. I figured they should be put to good use. They may be a little damaged. The hole in the middle is from the acetylene torch."

"Why did you do that?"

Sean shrugged, stood, and looked at Officer Shubitz, nonverbally asking permission to leave. After an exchange between the lawyer and the officer, Shubitz nodded. Sean looked back to Athena. "I figured the dollar would be safer without the plates in existence."

Edward Murphy rose from his seat, but hung back. The room was getting crowded, with the lawyer, Shubitz, Marcowtiz, Sean, and his own bulk. "And if my new employer pays me in cash, it would be good to know it's not counterfeit."

Sean Ryan gave Edward a nod. "Don't worry, Mr. Levine. My checks don't bounce. Welcome to the firm."

Athena rose, sweeping the photos back into a pile. "I suppose, in a way, you did us a favor. If we had to prosecute, and we made a deal for your testimony, you and your record would have made it difficult ... to make ... a case." She blinked and stared at him a moment. "And without the plates, prosecution would have been a problem ... "

Sean chuckled. "You mean if there was anyone left to prosecute?" he asked her. "Well, it's a good thing they're all dead then, isn't it?"

Athena stared at him for a long moment, trying to do the math. "You said you came in with a sound-suppressed weapon so you could get in an make a deal with the boss. You didn't expect to get caught when you went in there, but when they spotted you, and Edward appeared, you knew the jig was up. Did you decide to kill all of them when the plan went south? Or were you just lucky?"

Sean's bright blue eyes crackled with amusement. "My dear Agent Marcowitz, as I told my new associate here, I don't do random acts of destruction. The end result made everyone's life easier, and dead people don't sue. And the plates were my get-out-of-jail-free card." He gave a casual, easy shrug. "There are people that the world is better off without, lass. And that's why I made you a job offer. You can help me end those people." Sean gave her a feline grin. "Come, join the dark side. We have cookies."

~Fin~