As usual, I owe so much to Purdy's Pal for reading through this chapter. I was also lucky enough to borrow Amanda Hawthorne's attention for a quick question or two. Thanks ladies. You're awesome.

Thanks to everyone else for their time in reading. I hope to make it worth your while.

A Buddy's Troubles

Chapter 1

"Here you go, Sam," Marissa held out a longish slip of paper.

Sam took the week long tab with a sigh. He only glanced at the total and pulled out his wallet.

"Aren't you going to look it over?" Marissa, Sam's favourite waitress at Carlito's, asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Are you suggesting there's something not right with this bill?"

Marissa fidgeted and looked over Sam's shoulder, "Nothing's wrong with your tab…exactly."

Stretching out the bill in his hands, Sam gave it a cursory glance. "It looks okay. There's five days worth of visits; including Mike's ice tea and Fi's Bloody Mary."

"You know about the Bloody Mary? I thought…" Marissa stammered, confused.

Sam laughed at her discomfort. "You were worried I was paying for someone else's bill?"

Marissa nodded her head, looking slightly embarrassed, but admitting, "I know you guys are friends and all, but Fiona said it was okay to add that to your bill after you had already left."

Sam waved away her concerns with a smile. "I can't complain about one Bloody Mary, when I've added an order of fish tacos to her bill for the past three weeks. She must have finally figured out it wasn't Mike."

"You guys," Marissa shook her head and laughed as she walked away from Sam's table to give him time to sort out his payment.

Sam couldn't hide his smile as he thumbed through the twenties in his wallet, but paused when he heard a deep voice calling out his name. Before he could turn around, two beefy hands grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him out of his chair. With his arms hanging limply at his sides, Sam was caught in a tight bear-hug. This was followed by two hefty back slaps that would have been powerful enough to dislodge a whole burrito, had he been choking.

Sam wasn't a small man, and he hadn't thought of himself as a powerless man, but he was unable to save himself from what was becoming an embarrassing position. Finally, he was released from the bear-hug and held at arm's length from a well-muscled man wearing dark suit pants and a short sleeved, button down shirt.

"Wow! Sam Axe! Let me take a look't ya."

While the man was looking him over, Sam was hoping to get some clues of his own. The trident tattoo showing through the light color of the man's shirt told him to think back to his SEAL days. For the life of him, Sam was still drawing a blank.

"You okay, Sam?" the man pulled back and frowned, his face a mask of concern; most likely brought on by the fight-or-flight look that gradually faded from Sam's face to be replaced by a dubious frown.

Sam hesitated, "Stoney?"

The grin returned to Stoney's face and he slapped Sam on the shoulder. Sam felt no shame in taking a half step to roll with the blow, and keep from falling into the table. "What's it been? About twenty five years?"

Rubbing his sore shoulder, Sam did some quick calculations in his head, "Twenty four, but who's counting? You been working out that whole time?"

Stoney gave a loud guffaw. "Always the same."

Sam sat down and indicated an empty chair for Stoney to join him. "You have time for a beer? Tell me what brings you to Miami. I'd almost guess you're here on leave."

Stoney's physique was well defined and toned. Indeed he did look like he could still be pulling active duty as a Navy SEAL. Sam kept from checking his own biceps, well aware that the last four years had been spent in serious research of the perfect mojito and the comfiest resort chair. He was as well rested and relaxed as a man could be who had Michael Westen as a best friend.

Sam waved his hand, "Two more, Marissa."

"Sure thing, Sam," Marissa smiled as she went to the bar to grab their drinks.

Sam turned his attention back to Stoney and enquired with a friendly, "So?"

Stoney gave a small laugh, "I'm no longer in the service. I left years ago and went private. Hours aren't much better, but the pay…," Stoney grinned up to the sky, lifting his hands up as if exalting God. He looked back at Sam, grinning from ear to ear, "Government contracts are much better when you're the signee rather than the minion carrying them out."

"Contracts?" Sam asked cautiously. "What business are you in?"

"Personal Security," Stoney paused to accept a cold bottle of beer from Marissa with a nod of thanks.

Sam exchanged several twenties for his bottle. "Should be enough to cover this and my tab."

"Sure thing, Sam, thanks," Marissa started to walk away, but paused to add, "Just holler if you want to start on next week's tab."

"Not today. I promised a friend I'd be stopping by this afternoon." Sam answered.

Sam looked at his beer and knew he wasn't about to drink it. He needed to stay sharp and find out more about Stoney's contract work. He checked his watch. He told Mike before lunch that he'd stop by the loft later. After this conversation it would definitely be later.

"So you're into personal security? Government contracts? Sounds interesting," Sam carefully plied for information.

"Yeah? Interesting doesn't begin to cover it," Stoney raised an eyebrow and took a drink. "That's actually why I'm here in Miami."

"Oh?" Sam hoped he came across as 'friendly' interested and not 'protecting my friends from the government' interested. He pretended to take a drink from his beer. What could be more friendly than two ex Navy SEALs sitting, having a drink?

Stoney nodded his head, "I had a gig go bad. I'm here trying to rectify that."

Sam let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. A current gig going bad couldn't have anything to do with a spy burned three years ago or his ex-IRA girlfriend living in Miami illegally for that same time. Sam took an honest to goodness drink.

"What happened? Or is it all hush-hush?" Sam asked, settling into more of a buddy mood.

Stoney leaned back in his chair. "I fell in love with a client. Her father runs a small wind engineering company that just had a major technological breakthrough." Stoney began picking at the label on his beer bottle. He took a moment before looking Sam in the eye, "If I had kept things strictly professional, I wouldn't have gotten so careless." Stoney gave a sigh, full of self derision. "You know what it's like, being a SEAL. We're indestructible. We rule the roost."

Sam didn't remember it that way. Without too much effort, his muscles recalled the stress of planning and exercising; doing everything possible in running your unit so you got the job done and got everyone out alive. Then again, Ginger 'Stoney' Breakstone had only been with him for a very short period of time, back in the 80's, before Sam received a field promotion and was sent scurrying off to another unit with other demands. Sam didn't know which unit leaders and commanders Stoney had after he had moved on. Lord knows, Sam met more than his fair share of men who ruled according to rhetoric instead of actual experience.

"So you fell in love and thought you could protect the client without any back up?" Sam guessed.

Stoney nodded. "Rita Avnet was kidnapped. The scum that took her are using her as leverage, to make her father give up the technology."

"He's received a ransom note? I take it you're here to see to the exchange?" Sam felt honest to goodness concern over where this conversation was going.

Stoney shook his head, "Rita's father found out about us. He blames me for this whole situation. He's right, too," Stoney swiped at his eyes. He picked up a napkin from the table and blew his nose. "Allergies, you know?" His sniffed before turning his head to cough, hiding his embarrassment.

Sam put a comforting hand on Stoney's shoulder. "What's your plan? Who knows you're here?"

Stoney turned to look at Sam. His emotions back under control, "I did some digging before coming down here. I know who has Rita. I'm going to get her back and make sure her father doesn't have to lose his business. Once I have Rita safe, I know her father can make a deal and they'll be made to pay."

Sam didn't like the tone this was taking. "A deal to make them pay? Who are 'they' and what are they paying?"

Stoney gave Sam a knowing look, "The Russians, Sam. You know the Russians, they don't play nice, but without Rita as leverage, her father can keep his patents and the Russians will have no choice but to legally license the technology. It'll be worth millions, and I'll be back in the old man's good books. And I'll get Rita back," he sighed. "It's win-win all around. Even the Russians get something out of this deal. They'd have the first contract for this new wind technology. From Siberia alone, they'd make billions from energy they could sell to neighbouring countries like China."

"It has to be Russians?" Sam quietly muttered, downing the last of his beer.

"What was that, Sam?" Stoney asked. At Sam's wry look, Stoney tried to explain, "Look, I know it sounds bad, but it'll be okay. I'll track down where they're holding Rita and pull her out before anyone even knows I'm here. What? What are you trying to say?"

Sam had been shaking his head as soon as Stoney started defending himself, "After Moscow and St. Petersburg, Miami has the highest population of Russian mafia anywhere in the world. You're not going to get Rita out without help." Sam smiled.

Stoney looked confused and angry. "Why are you smiling? This isn't good, Sam. What am I supposed to do?"

Sam placed a hand on Stoney's shoulder as he stood up. "I've got some friends that can help."

Stoney looked ready to argue, but Sam stopped him, "We do this a lot. You'll like the results."

"We should ask your friends first. This sounds like it could get dangerous pretty fast," Stoney made to get up and follow Sam out of Carlito's, but Sam pushed him back down into his chair, pleased he didn't require a sledge hammer to assist him.

"It takes a certain panache in asking, but they're in. Don't worry. Just give me a number where I can reach you after I've got things sorted."

"The ol' Sam Axe charm, is it?" Stoney sighed, but seemed to relax at the possibility of help. He waved Marissa the waitress over to borrow a pen. He wrote down his hotel and room number on a napkin, which he handed to Sam.

"Blue Moon Resort? Nice. I'll call you there before dinner." With that, Sam headed out to his car.

As Sam's car drove out of view, Stoney called Marissa back to the table. "I'd like one more beer please. I have a feeling my time in Miami is only going to get more interesting."