Burn Notice: The Fall of Sam Axe

So February 1, 2005, 0800 hours...

this begins the inquiry into the mission...

herein referred to as Operation Provide Support.

Commander Axe, do you have anything to say before we begin?

Well, sir, it's actually more of a question than a statement.

Can I have a beer?

You may not have a beer. But you may stand up and raise your right hand.

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...

- so help you God? - Yeah.

Sir, am I on trial here?

I got the word about wearing the dress whites, and now we're doing the whole oath thing...

For now this is not an official legal proceeding.

Think of it as an informal conversation...

to sort out exactly what happened here.

We got over a dozen casualties...

some structures destroyed, a few vehicles destroyed.

This little disaster is gonna take some serious sorting out.

That's why I suggested the beer.

I'll ask you not to waste my time, Commander Axe.

- Now can we begin? - You're the boss, sir.

Let's start with how you first became involved in this operation.

Ah- Uh, that kind of depends.

There's kind of the official beginning and then the unofficial beginning.

You know what I mean?

Right. Well, uh, okay...

this whole thing began... in bed.

A couple of weeks back, I just started seeing a lady by the name of Donna.

Mmm.

You're not so tough. I bet I could beat you.

Oh, yeah? How's that?

Well, first, I make you weak.

- Aw. - Tire you out.

And then when you least expect it...

I attack.

Pretty good.

You should come by and teach the teams a few moves.

You should teach my husband a few moves.

Wait a second. Your husband? You're married?

Oh, don't be that way. It's fine.

Uh, well, no. Actually, uh, it's not fine.

- I kind of have a thing about that. - He barely looks at me now.

It's like he's not even my husband anymore. He's just...

Oh, my God. He's here.

What?

I don't understand. He should still be in D.C.

That's your husband?

You're married to Admiral Maitland?

Just-Just go, okay?

No, no. Not that way. He'll see you.

No. Bathroom.

Well, it's been great.

As a SEAL, I've been involved in evasive maneuvers...

but this... was an unusual tactical situation.

Hey, Donna!

What's the matter with Buster? He's going crazy out here.

I don't know. He's been like that all day.

Still, same principles apply in any hostile encounter...

when you need to get out clean without engaging the enemy-

identify an escape route and blend seamlessly into the surroundings.

Wait. Wait. And how exactly does this relate to the mission in question?

I'm getting there, sir. This is important, I promise.

I just don't wanna hear any more of your romantic escapades. Is there a point?

Okay, so that night, I headed out.

Now, with this type of problem, some men will duck and cover. Others will turn to booze.

Me? Let's just say I have my own secret weapon.

I swear, every time I see you, you look different.

It comes with the job, Sam.

Hey, nice tan, Mikey. Where you been?

- Someplace sunny. - Well, it agrees with you.

I remember how pasty you got when we were stuck back in Poland in '92.

- How long are you in town? - A few days of debriefing, at least. We'll see.

Not to impose, but you feel like advising an old buddy with a sticky situation?

How sticky?

Sticky like let's get a table and a few more rounds.

Sam.

An admiral? It had to be an admiral's wife?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. So look, what do you think I should do here?

Go to Maitland and explain. Tell him you didn't know who she was...

until things had already gotten out of hand.

- in fact, call him right now. - Mike, that's not what I'm...

I was more looking for that super-spy advice on how to keep this quiet.

You remember that thing in Kiev with Misha...

when he sold out the wetwork team on their way to Paris?

- Oh, yeah. What about it? - That's the kind of secret that stays secret...

because if it comes out, people get sent to Siberia.

This will come out as soon as Maitland looks sideways at his wife.

Seriously, Mike, you know, I know you're a smart guy...

but you've dated one lady, and she was a frickin' psycho.

I'm just saying you may not be the expert on this whole boy-girl thing.

My job is to know what people are gonna do before they do it...

which is how I know you're not gonna take my advice...

and this is gonna blow up in your face, Sam.

I don't know. I mean, how smart can spies be, right?

You're always fighting on the side with no guns.

There are certain rewards to fighting on the side with no guns.

Tell you what. One day, you're gonna give me some spy lessons. Deal?

Deal.

Mm. I gotta go.

- You're gonna be all right? - Yeah, I'll be fine.

Thanks for the beer. Oh. And, Sam...

be careful.

So I have a few more drinks and head home...

figuring that maybe it's best not to get relationship advice from a spy.

The thing is, it turned out the spy was right.

Commander Axe, you need to come with us.

Says who?

You were in my house, in bed with my wife.

And don't even try to deny it, 'cause I found your belt.

This look familiar?

I talked to Donna and she told me everything.

Admiral, I was unaware, sir, that she was your significant other.

You were unaware? You're a Navy SEAL.

You're trained in battlefield awareness...

and you didn't see my name on the mailbox?

Well, sir, I wasn't exactly in that frame of mind, sir.

As you can imagine, I was otherwise occupied, sir.

I'll stop talking now, sir.

So I checked my docket for an assignment...

that would get you out of my sight for the foreseeable future...

and I think I found just the thing.

Not Siberia. Please, not Siberia.

You're going to Colombia. Tonight.

Sir, with all due respect, I need to pack, sir, and, well, uh...

- Are you refusing orders? - No, sir. Of course not.

It's just that I- Well, it's been a while, sir, and...

For a mission in South America, I should really brush up on my Spanish.

Well, you got a 12-hour plane ride, so...

brush up, amigo.

Amigo. That's "friend," right, sir?

Get the hell out of my office!

So, like a good soldier, the next morning I was up bright and early...

enjoying a first-class plane ride down to Colombia.

- What the hell are you wearing, brother? - I got issued these.

You do know most of Colombia's green, right?

I don't think the guy who issued them wanted me to blend in.

Can you turn that crap off?

I was supposed to be taking some Green Beret named Donohue down on this mission.

Heard he got drunk and set a tank on fire.

- Guess you screwed up even worse, huh? - Yeah, it would seem so.

What did you do? Must've been something crazy, man.

- I don't wanna get into it, okay? - Suit yourself.

- Good luck, big guy. - Yeah, thanks.

I read over the mission.

Essentially, I was going down to check on reports of unrest in the region.

Basically, a local Colombian official with connections in the States...

called in a few favors.

He needed someone to observe and report on a situation...

so he could scare up some U.S. military aid.

And I was the lucky guy who got to do the observing and reporting.

Sir, I read the file, but I was hoping you could fill me in on the basics of the situation.

I was dropped into this a little suddenly.

This group, the so-called Espada Ardiente...

has been staging serious attacks all over this countryside.

And the situation is getting only worse and worse. We need help.

Espada Ardiente. Is that some kind of homegrown insurgent group?

Yes. Actually, we don't know much about them.

There's someone I would like you to meet.

Will you follow me, please?

Comandante Veracruz, let me introduce Commander Axe.

It is a pleasure, Commander Axe.

Comandante Veracruz has worked before with American soldiers.

- He's at your disposal. - I believe we have mutual acquaintances.

I trained at the School of the Americas in '92.

Well, hell, if you trained there in '92...

I knew every last son of a bitch that made you do push-ups in the mud.

- Vic Rayburn. - No, no, no. You mean the Terror.

- That's the guy. - Of course.

So what's the plan?

We have intelligence that Espada Ardiente...

is planning to attack an international clinic...

run by a group called Doctors for All.

- A hospital? Seriously? - Unfortunately, yes.

Until now they have stayed clear of civilian targets.

The clinic sits in a strategic pass in the mountains.

We believe the terrorists want to use it to take control of that region.

The plan is for you and Comandante Veracruz...

to get there before that can happen.

- I trust we are in good hands? - Of course. Thank you, sir.

Bye-bye.

- Let's meet the guys. - Fantastic. Please.

- Hola, señor. - Abajo.

So it was the standard drill. I met Veracruz's team...

and we headed out up the mountains toward the territory...

that this Espada Ardlente group was occupying.

Spent a couple days driving up and down mountains and getting carsick.

Not much to report, at least until we got further north...

and started seeing some of the places these guys had attacked.

It was mostly little stuff- blown-up vehicles, some burnt campsites.

But it was enough to make me think we had to get to this clinic ASAP...

make sure nothing happened.

The clinic was conveniently located in the middle of nowhere.

After our long trek there, I figured they'd offer us a beer for our trouble...

but they weren't exactly happy to see us.

Okay, this is just crazy. Why would anyone attack the clinic?

I'm sorry, Doctor, but our intelligence indicates there may be an attack.

And so what are we supposed to do, hmm? Evacuate?

That would be best. We can give you until tomorrow to...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Tomor- Listen, I got people in there too sick to move.

- How am I supposed to evacuate- - Let me handle this.

American to American.