With lots of help from ONE LOBO

Stephen read through the profile again. It required that he get a tattoo. It required that he would be alone with Kristie a lot - and that he'd have to sleep next to her - in the very least. He knew what else would happen though.

He looked forward to it.

    Kristie walked into his office, "You rang?"

    "I have to get a tattoo," He told her, "For an upcoming mission. We're going to hook up with gun runners - in the middle of the desert outside of Vegas."

    Kristie's eyes widened, "Do I get my own Harley?"

    Stephen had to smile and chuckled. Of course, the Harley would be her first thought.

    "If not, I'll ride behind you, OK?" He told her, "I need a tattoo Kristie. What is going to fit with the persona?"

"Okay, I'll drive till we get around the dudes.  It wouldn't look good for the big bad biker man to be seen letting his bitch handle his hog."

"Well, we know one of us has got the lingo down.  Now, how about that tat?"

"I think I can work something up for you that'll fit the profile, and your personality.  Is this gonna be a permanent, or a temporary?"

"I'll decide that when you show me what you've come up with," Stephen searched her eyes, looking for anything close to what they used to have.

"Cool, I'll have it worked up in 'bout, ummm, say, half an hour.  See you in here?"  Kristie saw what he was trying to do, and avoided holding his gaze.  He could still see right through her if she looked directly at him, instead, she checked her watch as she spoke to him.

"Yeah, that'll be fine," Stephen's tone held...something.  If it was disappointment, regret, or something else, she didn't know.  Turning on her heel, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, seeing that his eyes were still locked on her.  She threw him a wink and headed to Walter and Brianna's station.  They had to have heard about this one.

"I think I like this," Kristie announced, showing Walter the drawing.

It was a lone wolf, baying at the full moon in the background. Walter looked at it, nodded his head. Brianna walked over, and gave it a close look, "Nice . . . it goes on his arm?"

"Bicep, right about here," Kristie explained, "Profile has us leaving in three days, so he's gotta go in tonight."

Walter nodded, "Vitamin E oil - to keep him from scabbing up. It'll heal faster too."

Stephen felt a little trepidation as Kristie and the 'artist' discussed the colors, the size, the outlining - all these things he'd never considered. He read through the consent and information form, and signed it, and waited for Kristie and the tattoo artist to finish hammering out the details.

A few minutes later he found himself sitting in the chair, watching the artist take brand new needles out of the package.

"Nervous?" Kristie asked him, sitting down in a chair across from him.

"Me? No," Stephen lied, "how much is this going to hurt?"

"A little," Kristie told him honestly, and then said in an amused voice, "But if I can handle it . . ."

"I can handle a lot more than 'a little'." Stephen retorted.

*****

Michael knew whom it was that slipped into his office. He quickly saved the document he was working on, and shifted his attention towards the redhead.

She'd dressed well again. Long teal colored skirt, almost form fitting. It had a slit on one side to her knee. A creme colored blouse that tied off at her hip, and thin strap sandals. She looked both tasteful and comfortable.

"We're OK right, you and I?" Alexandra asked him.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "I feel . . . guilty . . . my head knows that we were under orders. But . . ."

"But some things just shouldn't happen?" Michael asked her, "I'm . . . out of sorts . . . too."

She nodded, "Yeah, well . . . Nikita is OK with all this, right?"

"Yes," Michael replied, "She really is. She and I have been here many times before."

Alexandra swallowed hard, "So when does it get better?"

"In time," Michael told her, "The real trick is, to push it back during those times that Section is watching the most."

Alexandra's lip twitched, "Sections always watching, Michael. I seemed to have made Madeline's shit list. What did I do? Break a record for how much shit people can take?"

Nikita was in the hallway, just walking up on Michael's office, when she saw Alexandra sitting on one of the chairs in his office.

"Can I come in?" Nikita asked, lightly rapping her knuckles on the partially open door.

"Yes," Michael replied, smiling at her. His eyes quickly danced down her frame, taking in each curve, and swell.

"Stop that," Nikita laughed softly, "You're embarrassing Alex!"

Alexandra laughed, "No he's not. I like to watch!"

"You're no help," Nikita said, still laughing, then turned her gaze on Michael again; "I want to borrow Alex for a while. I have a recruit who needs to be taught a lesson."

"Go on," Michael replied.

Nikita sat down on the corner of his desk; "He likes to push women around. He can't do it to me - he tries, I don't give him an inch - but he tends to exert himself with other female recruits. I don't think he'll see Alexandra as an authority figures - but I'm sure she'll be his equal or better in the ring."

Michael thought about this for a few moments, "Is he even worth salvaging?"

"Madeline wants to give it a few more months - suggested I train him with strong women, I don't know how much of this is her testing me - a good part of it I'm sure," Nikita told him, "I'd say he may be salvageable. I think some exposure - long term - to strong women may work."

Michael nodded, "OK."

"Thanks," Nikita turned her gaze back to Alex, "Cute outfit. Where'd you get it?"

Alexandra shrugged, "Kristie and I shopped on line. Who knows?"

Alexandra stood up, "Ah well . . . I promised Walter I'd swing by and be social today. Call me when you need me Nikita."

They both watched her leave.

"She's OK, right?" Nikita asked Michael.

"Feeling out of sorts a little, Michael replied, "It's within parameters. She'll be fine."

Nikita sighed, "I bet we all just ruined Madeline's whole day."

"When will this sparring take place?" Michael asked Nikita, changing the subject.

"This afternoon, 2:00 PM," Nikita told him.

*****

Darren had on comfortable but snug fitting sweat pants and a tank top. He never trained in a Gi anymore, because when the skills would be called into use, he wouldn't be wearing a Gi. Alexandra and Kristie walked into the gym; both of them seemed to have dressed for the afternoon together. Bike shorts, the sports bra type tops. Kristie stopped and helped Alexandra roll her hair, and secure it tightly with a comb. They both knew they were here to deal with a problem student. Michael was in the gym as well. Nikita walked in behind the problem recruit.

Alexandra walked over to where Darren stood, "Have you sparred with this guy?"

"I've fought with him," Darren told her, "He doesn't understand the concept of sparring for practice - he'll fight to hurt you Alex. Don't underestimate this guy."

Kristie leaned over and said quietly, "He even walks like a cocky jerk. Probably in for beating up his girlfriend."

"Killed his wife," Darren told them, "Caught her with some guy, and beat her to death."

"Great, one of those," Alexandra shook her head, and started to stretch out, "No wonder we have so many people around."

"Why does Alex get to beat up on him instead of me," Kristie demanded, her tone of voice held humor in it though, "I may be shorter, but I'm just as much of a bitch!"

Alexandra laughed, "You're about to go out on a mission - maybe they don't want your face bruised up."

Darren watched Alexandra for a moment, then looked over at the recruit Nikita was talking to, rather sternly. Darren looked over at Michael, who was watching as well. Michael's gaze met Darren's for a moment. Both of them knew Alexandra was good, but this guy was stronger. It was physics. Alexandra, however, was faster, and used every advantage she had. She'd sparred with Darren for years, and she won as often as she lost with him and she never allowed him to pull his punches.

"Alex," Nikita called her over.

Alexandra started over towards the corner circle where Nikita and stood. Nikita talked to both of them, then walked away. Michael had walked over to where Darren was. It was all a ruse. If it got out of hand, and Alexandra started to lose, they would step in. But with Nikita out of sight, the authority figure issue was gone - at least, it would be in the recruits mind.

Ike was the recruit's name.

"I don't like wasting my time fighting women," Ike told Alexandra right away, "You're not a challenge."

"Arrogant and ugly, helluva combination Ike!" Alexandra said, her voice condescending, "Whenever you're ready?"

Ike shrugged, crossed his arms and waited. Alexandra didn't budge from her line.

"You gonna stand there all day?" Ike barked at her.

"You're call. You start whenever you're up to it," Alexandra told him.

Michael mentally ticked off a point for Alexandra. She wasn't going to allow herself to attack out of anger.

Ike stepped from his line, so Alexandra stepped in. The circled each other, but Ike wouldn't punch.

Finally, he stopped, turned his back, and threw his hands in the air, and started to yell, "Someone get me a real partner plea-"

Alexandra leapt forward, her fist slamming into his side knocking the air out of him, and her foot swept his legs. He collapsed on the floor, gasping and flailing, "Fucking bitch! Cheat! Attacking from behind!"

Alexandra cocked her head to one side, "Don't turn your back. Even us wimpy little bitches take advantage of opportunities."

She kept back, didn't offer him a hand up.

He got to his feet, and lunged after her.

Michael and Darren watched closely.

Ike punched, Alexandra blocked and followed up with a punch of her own. Ike countered, she blocked, and kicked. Ike staggered back, and grabbed for her hair. Alexandra jerked out of the way, just barely getting out of his reach. He charged her, and she dropped down, swept his legs, and leapt on him, driving her knee into his kidney. She yanked his arm up his back, his wrist twisted at a dangerous level.

"Fucking bitch!" He spat out, gasping for air, unable to move.

"Never-," Alexandra said in his hear, "Underestimate a smaller partner."

He groaned in pain under her.

"I think this session is over," Nikita announced, walking up, "Hit the shower, then hit the books in your quarters."

Alexandra got up, carefully backing away.

"Just . . . lucky . . ." Ike gasped, getting up, "Next time . . ."

Alexandra kept her face calm, and watched him go. She waited until he was out of the gym.

"He fights angry," Alexandra commented, "And he didn't take me seriously. He won't make that mistake next time."

"Watch your back in the halls," Darren warned her, "He's the type."

Alexandra nodded, "I hear ya . . . well, I still need a work out, who wants to play?" Her gaze settled on Darren. She was feeling good now, cocky.

"You want to play, I'll play, but I'm playing to win Red," Darren told her.

"Room two?" Alexandra asked, looking at Michael.

"Three," Michael told her; "Two is reserved for something."

Nikita looked at Michael briefly. Two wasn't reserved at all. But three had a place where he could sit and watch.

"Michael," Nikita said quietly, coming up behind him, "What are you doing?"

"Assessing," Michael replied, "You should join me. You'll start to profile soon enough yourself."

"Can I watch?" Kristie teased, "Or at least get a copy of the video?"

Michael shot her a warning look. Kristie stuck out her tongue.

Tony walked into the gym at that moment, and Kristie waved him down. She had to spar with someone, and at the moment, she didn't think Stephen would feel like getting a punch in the arm.

"You made short work of Ike," Darren commented as he and Alexandra walked into the smaller private sparing room.

"He provided the opportunity. When he comes back, it will be more work," Alexandra replied, and walked over to a line, "Ready?"

"Ready," Darren stepped off his line.

They circled each other for a moment, neither one willing to give up the advantage of defending at first. Finally, Alexandra threw a punch. Darren blocked it, and countered. Alexandra blocked, and tried to kick. Darren blocked. She threw another punch. Darren blocked, and countered.

Michael and Nikita were watching over head.

"They're well matched," Nikita commented, "but they trained together."

"They're relaxed as well. I've been concerned," Michael told Nikita.

"I think we're seeing older, wiser versions of 'the children'," Nikita answered, "They're going to be just fine."

Darren managed to get in a good punch while Alexandra landed a kick. Darren suddenly changed tactics. He threw all his weight at her, knocking her to the ground, and he pounced on her, pinning her shoulder.

"NO!" Alexandra screamed in frustration. She wasn't angry, but frantically trying not to lose. She hadn't been expecting the move at all.

Darren laughed, and held her in the position, his upper body sideways to hers. He laughed a little; "A fight can turn into a wrestling match Alex."

Then, he felt her hands pushing on his side and his shoulder, her movements and her breathing became frantic.

"Darren," she gasped, and edge to her voice, "Come on!"

Darren reared back quickly, "Did I hurt you?"

She sat up, wrapping her arms around her chest and stomach, "No . . . I'm . . . I'm fine."

Darren watched her, realization hitting him like ton of bricks.

"What's going on in your head Alex? An operative who can't be touched -"

She held up a hand, "Most of the time opponents don't lay on you afterwards either - so in the field I'll be fine . . . That mission is haunting me. Madeline just seems to be waiting for a reason to cancel me too."

"What can I do?" Darren asked her.

Alexandra shook her head; "I'll work it out on my own. There isn't anything anyone can do, but thanks."

Nikita sighed deeply and looked at Michael, "Madeline sees that reaction, and we've got problems."

"She won't, I'll talk to Alex later today -"

"Let me," Nikita interrupted him, "You're uncomfortable ground for her right now."

Michael nodded. Perhaps Nikita was right.

*****

Kristie quickly sifted through what Section had packed for them. She had no doubt in her mind that neither Madeline nor the staff in wardrobe spent any time around bikers. They'd be exposed in a second if one of them pulled out the wrong type of clothing.

So far, though, it looked like someone did their homework. Faded jeans. Faded worn T-shirts, some of them sleeveless. They each had leather vests. Leather chaps to cover their legs over jeans, and biker jackets, and finally - skull cap style helmets. Stephen had a wallet with a chain that he could attach to his belt loops on his jeans. Kristie had a small worn leather purse.

"Do we meet with your approval?" Madeline asked, gliding into wardrobe.

"Someone did their homework. I was a little concerned. Most of my targets are European, not American bikers."

"They may be bikers - but they're also dealing in weapons. Don't underestimate them," Madeline warned her.

"Only a fool would underestimate a biker gang," Kristie replied, "You saw the tattoo?"

"Yes," Madeline replied, "Interesting concept - a wolf baying at the moon. It seemed rather solitary."

"I thought it fit the profile and the man," Kristie said, zipping the saddlebag closed.

It was then that Stephen walked in, and saw that his bag had been thoroughly searched.

"Is it customary for the big bad biker to have his bitch pack for him too?" Stephen asked, using the terms she'd used earlier.

"Especially when the big bad biker doesn't want to see him and his bitch murdered and left in shallow graves in the desert because their targets figured out they weren't the real deal," Kristie told him.

She didn't bother to close up his bag though. He could do it himself. She hefted her bag onto her shoulder, and started for the door, "I'll be in Walter's station."

Walter watched as Kristie strolled into his station. She grinned, and said cheerfully, "Hail oh god of things to go boom!"

Walter chuckled, "Three wishes."

"Big gun, big bullets, and a way out of this mission," Kristie replied, and sat down on one of the barstools.

"A way out? Why?! You'll be on a Harley for two weeks, lots of sun . . ."

"And I'll be trapped with Stephen, who's very quick to condemn me of the gravest of sins. At least he'll fit the profile that way - he's possessive."

"He's feeling like a whipped dog too," Walter told her, "He's pulled his head out of his rear end. Give him a chance."

Kristie chuckled, "Two weeks in the desert, he'll have many, many chances I'm sure."

Alexandra walked into Walter's station, handing Pepe to Walter, "Try not to get kidnapped in Vegas again."

The comment was directed at Kristie. The blond woman managed a short laugh, "Hey, it got us all a vacation on the Ranch."

"I'd love for another week at the Ranch," Alexandra sighed, "But instead, I get to go assassinate some scumbag Section is tired of dealing with."

Walter laid out Kristie's gun, and then Alexandra's, then he laid out all the ammunition that each of them would be taking.

"Every man's fantasy - women, leather, and guns . . ."

Brianna cleared her throat from the back of the station.

Alexandra laughed, then leaned in and asked Walter quietly, "So . . . you and Bri - you're kinda becoming an item, huh?"

Walter grinned, "More than kinda."

"Congratz," Kristie told him, "I gotta run. I've got some serious sun worshipping to do."

Alexandra closed the case for her weapon. It was a trick case. If someone opened it up the normal way, they'd find a violin.

"Catch ya later Walter," Alexandra said warmly, then she called back to Brianna, "Keep him in line Brianna!"

*****

Michael caught Nikita just striding out of her office, pulling on her mission gear jacket.

"Which mission has been moved up?" Michael asked her.

"Cairo," Nikita told him, "It's looking like two, maybe three days."

"Be careful," Michael said gently, his fingers brushing hers, as she stepped away from him.

"Always," she replied, smiling at him, "After all - I got this virile husband to come home to."

Michael watched her almost run down the hall, and felt and odd combination of pride, longing and regret. He wished they could have a normal life - the kind where they were home every night, could have and raise children. But that would never be. Without Section, they'd never have met. Without Section, both of them would probably have been long dead by now. As he watched her go, he remembered how she'd been a few years ago - when she'd first started going out on missions. He'd always known she'd do well here, if she survived long enough.

At the end of the hall, Michael saw Tony walking quickly with Kim, her cane tapping at a fast pace as she kept pace with him. A moment later, Darren breezed through the opening at the end of the hall.

Alexandra walked up behind Michael, then stopped next to him, "Cairo?"

"Yes," Michael replied, his eyes taking in her attire, the tension level in her body.

She was dressed in nice slacks, a blouse of some kind of soft material, and a blazer. A violin case in hand. Michael knew what was in that case. She had on just a touch of make up. Polished and professional had become her new look, and it suited her well.

"The Scorsesi hit," Alexandra told him, "I wasn't aware that he'd been de-greenlisted."

"A few hours ago," Michael replied, "What did you think of the profile?"

Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "Honestly?"

"Yes," Michael started walking with her towards the exit.

"Sloppy," Alexandra told him, "I'll follow it as closely as I can. Who did it?"

"One of Madeline's assistants," Michael told her, "This is probably a test."

Alexandra managed a short laugh, "Michael - everything is a test. If she wants to get rid of me so bad - why doesn't she just do it?"

"Because other people in power have noticed your talent," Michael replied, "But you still can't afford careless mistakes."

"There won't be any," Alexandra told him, "See ya later."

*****

Kristie looked over at Stephen. He'd just changed clothes. Faded jeans, worn leather chaps and a jacket, leather vest and black T-shirt underneath. It would have been reminiscent of Michael if not for the metal chain wrapped around and over one shoulder. Michael could never pull off 'biker' let alone make it look this good.  Michael was still regal looking when he was covered in mud.

Kristie swallowed hard, yanked off her blouse and bra, and pulled on a T-shirt. Stephen felt his throat go dry, just watching her. But Kristie seemed to not notice his presence - or not care.

"No bra?" Stephen asked her.

"Nope," Kristie told her, "Not in my character's profile."

She pulled on the leather vest, then reached for her jacket.

"Profile says these guys are possessive types, and chauvinistic," Stephen commented, "How much crap do I let you take before I say something."

"None, and you get in their face fast!" Kristie told him, "They're fanatical about their women, and the women are fanatical about their men. I still have this little thing in the back of my head telling me Madeline has no clue in regards to this mission."

"Don't let her demeanor deceive you," Stephen told her, "She's more dangerous than Operations."

"I know," Kristie told him, "At Nikita's bachelorette party - she wasn't drinking, just listening, watching. I wanted her out of there. I know she picked up a few things, but I shudder to think about what she noticed that I didn't."

They made their way to the back of the plane, and stepped down onto the platform for drive on vehicles.

The hog was enormous. It was in almost perfect condition, with perhaps a scrape here and there. That would be good - it might be too obvious if it looked like it just came off the showroom floor.

Kristie followed Stephen as he rolled it down to the pavement. The saddlebags were placed, he got on, and she climbed on behind him. From here on out - they were in character.

She couldn't help but remember the last time she rode on the back of one of these. Michael had been intent on using her to get to Jeff. What a mess that mission had been. But they had her pegged with her love for Harley's.

They drove for a few hours. They were supposed to meet their targets in two days in the desert. Between now and then, they had to look the part.

Hours later, they stopped in a tiny little town that boasted the smallest grocery store known to man, a gas station and a post office. They bought food for dinner, breakfast and lunch, some ice and beer, and were back on the road.

Hours later, they picked out a spot to camp. The ground was smooth and flat, and the sun was starting to drop. They gathered up wood, started a fire, and sat down in front of it to eat dinner, and drink a beer each. It would look odd if they were drinking bottled water.

"So far so good. I wonder how Alex's hit went?" Kristie sighed, looking over at Stephen.

*****

Alexandra watched carefully as she made her way through the department store. She was supposed to do the hit from one of the business offices. Her target would be across the street, supposedly sitting right in front of the window. It sounded too easy.

She quickly realized it was. The offices were locked, and there was no way security was going to let her in. She found her way onto the roof, carefully looking around to see how visible she was. She moved from one obstacle to the other, moving low, obscuring herself from view as she went. She found a reasonably hidden spot along the edge, and quickly assembled her rifle. Her time window was about to start.

She's just set herself up, when the target moved into view. But he wasn't alone. He was holding a child.

"Birkhoff!" Alexandra snapped, knowing her comm unit would pick up, "He's got a kid in his arms! I thought he was supposed to be meeting with other mutual scumbags!"

"You've got 60 seconds," Birkhoff replied, "Intel shows that one of his contacts has a child."

"Shit," Alexandra swore, sighting him up. He had to give the kid up sometime. Flying glass could hurt the kid. A small shift, and the kid could take the hit, not the target. She waited.

"Alex," Birkhoff said, "Status?"

"Getting a clean shot now."

"I'm getting Intel that he may have been warned," Birkhoff told her, "Do it, and get out of there."

Alexandra felt her breath catch in her throat. Sure they'd been warned, Madeline had probably seen to it.

The target started to hand the child back to someone. Alexandra squeezed the trigger, and immediately followed up with another round. The first round was mostly to break the glass. The second round had a wax cover over the hollow point. Inside the hallow point, was a highly toxic poison. If the bullet didn't do it, the poison would.

"Target hit," Alexandra replied tersely.

"Get out of their fast Alex, the police are already sealing off the area," Birkhoff told her.

Alexandra quickly made her way back into the department store, carefully keeping a happy expression on her face, while her mind worked. There was no way the police could have been notified that fast. They'd been called before she'd made the hit. This whole mission was a test.

"What kind of a radius are they closing in Birkhoff?" Alexandra asked.

"Two blocks all around," Birkhoff replied, "And I'm showing medical is now responding. Who calls for police first, then medical?"

"That's what I'm wondering," Alexandra asked, "I'm going dark."

She pulled her tracker and comm unit off, folding the tiny dot in half, and tossing it into a water fountain as she passed by. It would short out almost instantly.

The department store had an underground vendor parking lot that was generally closed to the public. The parking lot was shared with another department store - three blocks away.

Two hours later, she strode into Section One, livid with anger, but she'd had time to let it boil down to something manageable.

She knew the second she stepped into Section, Madeline would be notified. But Alexandra turned her rifle into Walter first, then went to comm.

"Birkhoff," Alexandra said, leaning over him, "Did we find out who notified the police?"

"Anonymous tip," Birkhoff told her quietly, "A separate call came in for medical. He was pronounced dead a little while ago."

"How long did we know a kid might be there?" Alexandra asked, quietly.

Birkhoff drew in a deep breath, "Alex - the file's been sealed. I can't get into it. I don't know."

Alexandra stood up, and glanced up at the glass tower.

"They're waiting for you," Michael said as he walked by her, expecting her to follow.

Alexandra turned on her heel, and caught up with Michael, "What would Section do if I'd been caught in the net?"

"They'd discover your body in the cell tomorrow morning, you'd have committed suicide," Michael told her calmly.

They reached the door.  Michael walked in first, Alexandra followed.

"You hesitated because of a child," Madeline said calmly, "You were almost caught."

"I waited for a clean shot. It would have been very easy from the office, but the office was closed, the camera's were placed differently than they were in the profile, I'd have been taken before I was able to set up. The shot from the roof had different angles. I knew he'd have to turn to hand over the child eventually. When he turned it provided the best angle. I took the shot then," Alexandra told them.

"What would you have done if he hadn't turned around to hand the child to someone else?" Operations asked.

"Taken the shot, and let the poison kill him, instead of the bullet, "Alexandra replied, "I thought about that option first, but if he'd accidentally tossed the child out of the window when he was hit - then there would be a hundred people on the street looking up to see what happened - and I'd have been exposed."

Operations looked at Madeline.

"Anything else?" Madeline asked.

Michael tensed up inside and hoped that Alexandra held her tongue.

"Interesting profile," Alexandra commented, "Security layout was bad, building schematics were wrong. If I hadn't checked them myself, I'd have had a harder time getting out."

"The profiler was new. She may have had inaccurate data," Madeline replied, "Improvisation is a key talent for an operative."

"I know," Alexandra replied, "But . . . something doesn't make sense Madeline - you're the psychologist, maybe you can answer this for me. The target is a terrorist, so of course, he doesn't want the police breathing down his neck. Odd, that someone was able to get the police there in ten seconds - but an ambulance wasn't called for a full minute later."

Michael was only partially relieved. She hadn't been out and out accusing; she'd framed her comment carefully. But she'd still dared to question it.

"It is unusual," Madeline replied, "By the way - you didn't mention where you got the building schematics."

"On line, they're updated every time the structure is altered," Alexandra replied, "The security layout didn't make sense to me."

"You can go," Madeline said, dismissing her.

Alexandra turned on her heel, and left.

Madeline turned her gaze on Michael, "You warned her about the inadequacies in the profile."

"No, I didn't. She made the decision on her own," Michael replied, "I was unaware she'd pulled building schematics."

"I think she hesitated to shoot because of the child," Madeline started.

"She just canceled a man, who was her lover for months though," Operations pointed out.

Michael noticed Madeline's lip line tighten - just barely.

"She's a crack shot, she knows it. She could have taken a shot and not hit the child," Michael replied, "Part of her mindset was her egress. It was logical that she'd consider the risk of drawing attention from the street."

"You can go," Madeline replied, her tone of voice not quite betraying the irritation she felt; But Michael knew it was there. He'd been learning to read Madeline for years.

*****

"It gets cold out here at night," Stephen rubbed the label on his bottle, speaking but not looking up.

"I know," Kristie replied.  She knew she sounded a bit short, but she honestly didn't feel like small talk tonight.          

"What, have you done this before?"

"No, but I used to watch a lot of nature documentaries in my other life."  That was how she thought of it now, as a whole other life, as if she had died and been reincarnated as a cold operative.  Her leg was a bit stiff, and she straightened it out on the ground in front of her.  Finding herself missing David, and a good massage, it didn't take her long to decide to just pack it in for the night.  

"Leg hurting?"  

"I'm fine."

"Kris, we need to talk..."

"Not tonight."

"Well, when? We can't talk on the bike."

Kristie folded her jacket into a makeshift pillow, pulled off her boots and crawled into her bedroll.  She met Stephen's eyes once, before rolling over.

"You know, you just keep finding reasons for me to love Harley's don't you? See you in the morning, and you'd do well to keep those covers tight around you...scorpions like warm little places to bed down."

Stephen threw another piece of wood onto the fire, watching the glow of the flames light the planes of her face, eyes now closed, hair draped over the black leather of the jacket.  He had a long way to go to get her back, but out here, alone with her for another day at least; he wanted to make some progress.  So far, it wasn't looking good.

The night stretched on, and the temperature did drop rapidly. Kristie had thrown an extra thermal blanket into her bedroll at the last moment, and slept on, unaffected by the cold.  Stephen was not fairing as well.  He stoked the fire again, trying to ease closer for the warmth, gathering the blankets around his shoulders.  He nearly jumped when her heard her voice, quiet, but also loud in the almost total silence of the desert.  

"C'mere.  You're either going to catch your death of cold, or catch yourself on fire."  She held the edge of her bedroll back, and waited as he settled in beside of her.  She dropped the covers, and bunched them up slightly under both of their chins.  

"Thanks, I guess I..." he started.

"Shhhh, sleep.  This is the coldest time of the night; it must be nearly dawn.  You have to rest."  Her last words slurred slightly, as she was already drifting toward sleep again.

Stephen stared at the millions of stars that spread out across the Heavens, saw one that he thought of as lucky, and thanked it.  They would make it through this, not just the mission, but through all of this.

The next morning dawned bright and for the moment anyway, it was still cool.  Stephen woke first, started to stretch, and stopped himself from moving.  Kristie slept on, her head nestled on the edge of his chest, one hand splayed across his stomach.  During the night, their bodies had moved into this familiar position.  She sleeping on him, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder, sharing their own warmth with the other. Her hair fell across his chest and neck in a soft cascade, the faint smell

of her shampoo reaching him.  Her breathing regular, but he could tell that she was dreaming.  Her hand on his chest would clench closed, then open again slowly, smoothing her fingers over his shirt, heating the flesh under it.  She began to stir, fighting against herself to wake up.  The dream had been of home, her Dad and her dogs, and she wanted to stay asleep as long as she could.  Sunlight broke the horizon, lighting the sand to a liquid gold and warming her face.  Starting to wake fully, reality intruded enough to let her realize where she was and whom she was lying with.  Lying on would have been a better way to describe it, and she started to push herself up.  Stephen, feeling her suddenly move, and not knowing if this was still part of her dreaming or not, tightened his arm around her shoulders holding her in place.

"Umm, I promise I won't run away.  I just want to find a cactus to squat behind Boss, if that's okay that is."

Stephen broke into a smile as he let her up.  

"Sorry, I thought you were still dreaming.  I wanted to catch you, if it was one of those freaky falling nightmares."

"It wasn't anything in that dream that was ominous.  In fact, it was so good, I didn't want to wake up."

"About home?"

"Yep."  She didn't elaborate, and Stephen didn't press her.  At one time or another, everyone in Section dreamed of his or her pasts.  Section invaded their lives enough; the only privacy they had was when they dreamt.  

Kristie eased her way out of the bedroll, and Stephen set about making them a quick breakfast while she busied herself packing their saddlebags again.  No conversation passed between them, but Stephen did notice small things.   She made sure to check the healing of his tattoo, gently pulling the flannel shirt down his arm while he stood patiently. When she had to pass him to get to the bike, she let one hand stray along his shoulders. When she saw him pulling on his jacket, she walked over to straighten the collars on his vest and jacket, gently pulling his hair from beneath them.  Her hand dipped under his chin and scratched her nails on the growth of bristles there.  To fit into the profile, Stephen had kept his hair longer and stopped shaving two days before they left.

When the bedrolls and remaining supplies had been stored, and Stephen had checked the bike over, it was time to ride.  He watched Kristie as she first brushed out her hair, then braided it into a plait that fell to the middle of her back.  Helmets secured, Stephen fired the Harley to life, and almost laughed as he felt Kristie's legs tighten on his hips as he did so, and they set off.

*****

Nikita glanced over at Tony and Darren. The team had spread out over the hill, clumping in small groups while they waited for their targets to show. Intel told them that they would arrive anytime in a two-hour time frame.

Nikita noticed that Tony occasionally glanced up at the city of Cairo - beyond the facility that was hiding above on the ridge.

Tony looked over and Nikita, and past Nikita at Darren as well, "I was just thinking that I'd love to take Kim through Cairo - as tourists, not on a job."

Nikita smiled. Tony was just one of those guys that she'd once thought didn't exist. They were a rarity in the real world, even more rare in Section. She was glad he worked under her.

"Kim would love Cairo, all the architecture, the history," Darren agreed, "I'd have to peel the camera off of Alex' face, but I'm sure she'd enjoy it. At this point I'd settle for any time at all with Alex that wasn't work related, " Darren joked.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Alex like a sister - but with all the water under the bridge, do you think there is anything left?" Nikita asked him, "Between the two of you?"

"I love her," Darren replied gently, "Wish to god sometimes I didn't - but she gets to something inside me that no one else does. So . . . yeah, I do."

"Then get aggressive," Tony told him, "Let that woman know you want her."

Darren drew in deep breath; "I don't want to make things worse . . . when I talked to Michael-"

"Michael isn't always right," Nikita interjected, "We don't have a smooth sailing romance. We disagree on a lot of things."

Darren immediately remembered what had happened in the room he and Alexandra had sparred in. He couldn't be too aggressive, but he could move in on her a little faster.

"I've never been through Cairo as a tourist, but I've seen a little of it on Missions. I'd love to tour through a pyramid," Nikita commented, bringing the conversation back to the city they were overlooking.

They were quiet for a few moments.

"Miss the Bahamas?" Darren asked Nikita softly.

"Every day for the rest of my life," Nikita replied, but she smiled, "I'm just glad we got to go."

Another few minutes of silence passed. While they watched and waited, their eyes were constantly scanning. Darren was still training as a level 4. Tony did it because he should. All three of them saw Nick - another operative, almost reveal his position.

"Nick," Nikita said tersely, "If I can see you, they can. Lay down."

Nick flattened out again. Nikita flicked her transmitter off again.

"He was a problem while I was gone, wasn't he," Nikita sighed. It was more of a statement, than a question.

"Nick is always a problem," Darren replied calmly, "He's still pissed that he's here. He almost got Tony killed."

"Only the good die young, so I survived," Tony replied, "And Kim does like her boys bad."

Nikita laughed, "I can see that. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to Kim - how's she doing?"

"Good," Tony replied thoughtfully, "Finally talked to Dr. Marc about her blood sugar. He's treating her. So far, so good. Scared the living hell out of me one day."

Nikita raised an eyebrow, "What happened.

"Kim, Kristie and Alex all went out and got plastered. Kim was hung over, they all were - and her blood sugar got way too low. All of a sudden, she just started spouting off; telling me what was wrong with everyone who she laid eyes on.  She was beyond irritable, and very, very shaky. Kim has a temper, but this was different. I thought she might take her cane to the next person who walked by her," Tony replied, "but it's under control."

"Good," Nikita said, "I like her, I want her on my team - on Darren's team. I also want her to help me pick out some plants, but that can wait."

Tony groaned, "Christ Nikita - it takes me over an hour to water all those plants she has. I swear to god she lives in a damn jungle. I have to keep plants at my place too - otherwise she feels out of place."

"She gave me a cactus," Darren mentioned, "Not so sure what that means . . . I think it might have been a subtle jibe, but I'm not sure."

"Pricks for the prick?" Tony chuckled.

"Oh, I see," Darren sighed, "She was pissed about the whole Beth thing."

"She was protective about you and Alex. That was more heart ache waiting to happen," Tony told him.

"I heard this little rumor, and I shouldn't even bring it up," Nikita began, already grinning ear to ear.

Darren looked over at her, "Go on."

"All of Data thinks you're into kinky stuff," Nikita told him.

Darren groaned, "Christ. Tony, you can tell Kim she was right. I should have bought a doll."

Nikita giggled softly, "Anyone know what the deal is with David and Kristie?"

"Good friends who can enjoy some casual sex," Darren replied, "I like him. She'll get bored with him eventually, but he's a nice guy."

"Stephen needs to seriously work on that girl, or he'll never get her back," Tony added.

"Words of wisdom from Sections 'Mr. Romantic'. What would you suggest?" Nikita asked him.

Tony grinned, "Invite her out - aggressively 'court' her. Cut back the possessive crap - just a little bit is fine with most women. He should have asked her what the deal was. Speaking of that - why is Section keeping that little puke Casey around? His temper is out of control."

Nikita sighed, "Cannon fodder. We got a lot of ops that are borderline. They stay in line if they think their superiors are ruthless. So we gotta appear that way. I let you guys have a lot of leeway - but not with tempers."

"That Ike guy needs a good attitude adjustment," Tony replied, "Lock him in a room with Kim, Kristie, Alex and you, and if he doesn't come out a new man, cancel him."

Nikita chuckled, "He'd never make it out alive."

"That's the idea Kita," Darren laughed softly, and then shivered, "Jesus, it's cold out here in this desert. How can it be so damn hot during the day, and here we are in light thermal gear at night? How does that work?"

"You know," Tony began, "Kristie and Stephen are out living in this - outside of Vegas. I think a little shared body heat might do wonders for them."

Nikita grinned, "And you know she's just loving the whole Harley aspect of this assignment."

"Targets approaching from the south," Kim's voice came over the comm system. She was 100 yards back, the van concealed from all views. Nikita almost squealed with delight when they found it.

All conversation ceased. They waited, poised, ready for Nikita to give the order.

Their targets were delivering a key element needed to create a chemical weapon. By itself, it was harmless. Combined with the other elements, it was lethal - and fast acting. They had two parts to this mission. Capture the deliverymen then incinerate the substance.

"Wait for the people picking them up?" Darren asked Nikita softly.

"Kim - got any other traffic in the area?"

"Nothing," Kim replied, "Two supply trucks, looks like six people all total. I'm watching 10 miles out - and they are all I see. Intel showed they might have to wait for the pick up crew."

"Sloppy delivery if you ask me," Nikita sighed, "Keep your eyes open everyone."

A few minutes later, the two trucks rolled in. Three people jumped out of the back of one truck, one of them started up the ridge.

"Nikita?" Lloyd, one of the other cold ops asked, his voice sounding nervous, "He's gonna trip over me in a minute."

"Take him out on three. Tony, driver of the lead car. Nick, driver of the second car. Darren, Morris, Pete and I will take out the stragglers . . .. One . . . two . . . three."

Gunfire erupted. Tony and Nikita were using tranques, so they'd have at least one live target to take back.

It was over fast. They started down the ridge, quickly taking the two remaining live targets. Nikita gave the order for the charges to be placed. They raced back up the ridge, and were well over it on the way back to the van when Nikita gave Kim the order to detonate the charges. The sky lit up brightly, just as they were scrambling back into the van.

"All of Cairo knows we are here now," Kim commented dryly.

"Go," Nikita ordered the driver, "Kim - keep scanning for surrounding hostiles. I don't want this trip to be an extended stay."

Kim chuckled, "Already on it . . . Operations is asking for you. I'll put him through to your comm unit."

Tony had managed to seat himself across from Kim. He glanced over at Darren while they listened to Nikita's one-sided conversation.

"Doesn't sound to bad," Tony said quietly, looking from Darren to Kim.

Kim nodded, it was OK. Status report only.

It was a few moments later that they felt the van driving up the belly of a plane. Darren went back to check the prisoner's restraints, before he followed the rest of the team up into the passenger compartment. Nikita was a step behind him.

"That went really well," Darren commented.

"I like the ones that go well. No innocents lost, small exposure . . ." Nikita nodded, "of course, Operations knows this. The next one will be a mess."

Darren laughed, "Probably."

*****        

"Convenient, how missions seem to be going just opposite of each other lately," Walter pointed out, as Michael and Alexandra walked into munitions to gather their gear.

"Kinda what I was thinking. Keep the newlyweds apart, see what happens . . . sounds like Section to me!" Alexandra agreed with Walter, and then her gaze shifted to Michael, "But they'll handle it. They always have."

Michael felt a slight stir of pleasure hearing Alexandra remark that way on his and Nikita's relationship.

They were dressed in formal wear. Michael had on a tuxedo, with a vest instead of a cummerbund. He had a shoulder holster on under his jacket, and he slid the Berretta into the sheath carefully. He needed to be inconspicuous.

Alexandra was wearing a floor length, dark jade satin gown. It had a split up one leg. She carefully slid the dress up and to the side to strap on the thigh holster, and slid her gun into place. She stood up, and straightened her dress, "How do I look Walter - Brianna? I'm going for classy here."

The dress was a floor length affair, Satin - jade green. It had thin spaghetti straps that held up a bodice that was snug and cut to show some cleavage, but not be too extreme. The skirt was just full enough to allow the flaps of the skirt to almost close when she stood still. When she walked, it revealed a long shapely leg, but again, not so extreme that it looked trashy.

"Lovely," Brianna answered, "Not to much makeup - just enough. I like this look much better Alex."

Alexandra smiled, "So do I - I think. Thanks!"

She turned on her heel, and strode out, matching her pace with Michael's. Michael felt a little bit of pride. She walked with a confident stride - despite all the things that Madeline had been throwing at her.

"You do look nice," Michael told her.

"Thank you," Alexandra replied.

*****

When he pulled back onto the road, Stephen felt her hands come to rest on his hips, and it felt . . . intimate. Stephen smiled. She wasn't as immune to him as she'd like him to believe.

It was late afternoon when they reached the area they'd meet the targets at. They were arriving a day early, to scout the area out. There was a flat ridge to the North - and to the south of them was another cliff. The ridge to the north angled around to the east as well, and there was a small cave in the ridge -just barely tall enough for Kristie to stand in. The ridge had an area that created an overhang as well.

They explored the area, then went a few miles back to a spot they'd passed earlier to camp out for the night. They gathered up tumbleweed, dry wood, and anything else that would make a decent campfire.

As the sun started to fade behind the ridge, they had a fire roaring, and while Stephen fed the fire little pieces of fuel, Kristie warmed up dinner for them. They had slipped into their roles, just in case someone came upon them.

"We should stay up on that ridge tomorrow - and watch. I don't want to be taken by surprise," Stephen commented to her.

"We'll hear them long before we see them," Kristie told him, "Especially out here."

"True," Stephen replied softly

*****

Nikita and Darren rounded the corner, ten paces back from their team, talking about how the mission went. Just as they went around the corner, they both almost walked right into Michael and Alexandra. Michael was dressed in a formal tux. Alexandra wore a floor length gown.

"Hot date?" Nikita asked, laughing.

Both Michael and Alexandra stiffened slightly.

"Embassy party  - Tela Armand will be there," Michael replied.

Nikita nodded, "Good luck. I'll be home when you get there - at least, if nothing comes up."

Alexandra smirked, "And in this place, it always does. Did you get your bad guy?"

"Always," Darren replied, "He's even alive."

Alexandra laughed, "Madeline will be so glad she has someone to play with!"

Darren shook his head; his eye's straying over to Nikita and Michael, the two of them seemed to be devouring each other with their eyes.

"Hey, you've got a minute right? I wanna show you something Alex," Darren said, turning back down the hall he'd just come from.

"I'll see you at egress," Alexandra said over her shoulder, walking away, "I'll be there in just a minute."

She strode off before Michael could argue. He had no intention of arguing though. His attention was all on Nikita - his wife.

"You know what they're doing," Michael replied.

Nikita nodded, "I can hazard a guess. I'll be going, you'll be coming back in, you'll go out, I'll be coming back in. I'll see you in a few weeks I guess."

"They're going to make this difficult," Michael reminded her.

"Michael," Nikita began, "We got the mole - what are they going to do to us?"

"Punish us for the favor I called into George," Michael replied.

"But -"

"I did call in a favor Nikita," Michael replied, "When we got back from the Bahamas, and I found out the mole had been discovered, I called George."

Nikita felt a mixture of joy and anger. It made her heart sing - to know that Michael would go that far - and it frightened her. They were playing a dangerous game.

Nikita glanced around, and seeing neither the king nor queen of Section in view, pressed a quick kiss to Michael's lips.

"I love you," She whispered, then strode on towards debrief.

*****

Darren walked slowly with Alexandra, "I just wanted to give them a minute - and talk to you solo."

Alexandra managed a smile; "Section is going to make them pay through the nose."

"I know," Darren sighed, "I hope it's worth it. I hope it doesn't destroy them."

Alexandra shook her head, "It won't . . . Nikita is where the sun rises and sets for Michael. He is her reason for breathing. They'll be fine. It won't be ideal, but I think they'll be just fine."

Darren grinned, "Optimism . . . we have changed, haven't we."

Alexandra nodded, "Yeah . . . older, wiser, stronger . . . at least, I hope we are."

The reached a point just out of the camera range where the teams loaded into the vans. Both of them stopped.

"Have we changed to much?" Darren asked her, his fingers brushing hers, as they both looked up and down the hall.

Alexandra drew a deep breath, "I hope not."

They watched each other for a few moments.

"I'll be waiting Querrida," Darren said softly, tightening his fingers in hers. He saw Michael coming down the hall.

"You look good by the way. Who has Pepe?"

"Walter," Alexandra told him, "Are you gonna take him home?"

"Yeah," Darren replied, "When I come back in tomorrow, I'll take him back to Walter. Good luck."

Alexandra nodded, and turned into the mission loading area. It was time to go.

*****

Darren let himself into his apartment, thinking that by now, Alexandra was sipping a glass of champagne, watching for her target. His thoughts must have been away too long for Pepe's satisfaction, because the little 6 pound ball of fur squirmed under Darren's arm, and then barked up at him. Darren didn't even try to guess what was offending the Chihuahua this time. Alexandra pampered him. Pepe was spoiled.

Darren set him down, and set about putting out food and water for the little dog. Once that was done, Pepe dove right in. Alexandra had been trying to control his intake of food. She was convinced all he did was eat, sleep and use the litter box. She worried he'd get too fat, and make himself sick. Darren hadn't seen it happen yet, but he didn't want to list a sick Chihuahua on his list of experiences either. Of all the transgressions Darren could commit, he was sure neglecting her dog would earn her hatred forever.

So just enough food was set down, and Darren wandered off into the bathroom. A nice hot shower was in order. A few moments later, he heard little noises telling him Pepe had followed him into the bathroom. Darren reached out, and grabbed up the dog. Pepe squealed and barked at him. He didn't want a bath, but Darren figured he could kill two birds with one stone. Pepe got a good scrubbing and then Darren let him loose to go run around the apartment and be irritated. He'd get over it quick. He always did.

Darren finished his shower, and pulled on a pair of boxer's, and headed back out into the living room. Pepe had dumped over his water bowel, and his food dish. Two magazines were pulled off the lower part of the coffee table. At the moment, he had a blanket in his teeth, and he was trying to pull it off the bed.

"Getting even you little shit?" Darren snapped, going after the dog.

Pepe barked in protest, raced over to his dog bed, leapt into it, then rolled over on his back, exposing his stomach. Darren knew that always worked with Alexandra. He stopped, and watched the little dog. Spoiled. That was a good word for Pepe.

Darren reached down, and scooped him up. He towel dried Pepe, then set about cleaning up the messes he'd made on his little revenge streak.

He was just climbing into bed, with Pepe carefully pushing around the blankets to make himself comfortable, when the phone rang.

"Shit," Darren swore, then snatched up the phone, "Yeah?"

"Darren?" Beth's voice asked.

"Beth," Darren said surprised, "Hi . . . what's up?"

"Nothing," Beth replied, "I . . .I was just wondering if you were busy tonight is all . . ."

"I just crawled in bed, I'm exhausted from that last mission," Darren replied, "As soon as I can get Pepe to calm down, I'll pass out."

"Oh," Beth said softly, "Pepe - that's Alex's dog . . . right?"

"Yeah, the Chihuahua," Darren replied, "You met him."

"Is She there too?" Beth asked, her tone a little sharper.

"No," Darren answered, smiling to himself, "She's out on a job - DC I think."

"I see," Beth said, "Well . . . another time?"        

Darren didn't know what to say. He had no intention of dating her, "Beth . . . I think we both agreed that you and I weren't compatible."

"I see," Beth said shortly, and hung up abruptly.

Darren groaned, and hung up.

Pepe sat down then, and blinked a few times, his gaze on Darren.

"I wish to god your mama would get over things and come back," Darren told the Chihuahua, "Fast."

*****

Brianna was sitting at the main worktable when Darren walked into munitions the next morning. She looked up, and smiled, her eye's immediately settling on the small bundle of energy and fur that was Pepe.

"Out I go again," Darren replied, "When Alex picks him up, let her know he had a bath last night."

Brianna nodded, and took the little tan Chihuahua, nuzzling him, breathing in the scent of something . . .        

"Sandalwood?" Brianna asked, looking up at Darren.

"That's the shampoo I had. He wandered into the bathroom while I was taking a shower, so I grabbed him, and bathed him. I doubt he'll make that mistake again."

Brianna laughed, and called over her shoulder, "Walter - Pepe doesn't smell like gunpowder anymore!"

Walter walked out from behind a rack - far in the back of munitions, "Why not? No one in their right mind wants him to smell like a dog."

Darren held up his hand in self-defense, "All I did was give him a bath. I wasn't objecting to gunpowder or anything. It was just spur of the moment."

Nikita walked in at that moment, "Darren - pick someone to take Tony's position."

Darren turned to look at her, "UH . . . where is Tony?"

"Being sent out on a solo," Nikita told him, "Who do you think can replace him?"

"No one," Darren replied, "but I'll settle for Greg."

"Why not Brian?" Nikita asked.

Darren knew she was evaluating his methods of assigning people.

"Greg handles high pressure better."

"Brian is a better shot," Nikita pointed out.

"On the range," Darren countered, "His scores are right in line with Greg's under pressure, and Greg doesn't distract as easily. Tony usually goes in on point with me."

"You're team will be waiting," Nikita replied, turning on her heal to leave.

"Whoa! Wait a minute - My team? Where are you going?" Darren asked her.

"I'll be providing technical oversight," Nikita told him, "This is part of your training."

"Then I want Tony back," Darren replied, "My team consists of-"

Nikita sighed, "Darren - you can't have Tony. You're team will always have fluctuations. I can't give you any concessions - not at this point."

Darren sighed, "Bri - Give me Pepe."

She handed over the Chihuahua. Darren made as show of rubbing the dog on his chest.

"I need all the luck I can get," Darren commented dryly, and handed the dog back. Then, he left munitions, and went into the briefing room.

Tony wasn't the only person missing. Simon was there, instead of Kim.

"Hey," Greg said, just as Darren took his seat, "No Tony, No Kim - what's going on?"

"They're on another assignment," Darren replied, "You'll take point."

Simon squirmed. Darren wanted to kick him. His team was. Loyal, but rowdy. They'd crucify him in a heartbeat. Kim somehow managed to command respect with her personality as well as skill.

"Just as long as they aren't sending our girl out on no valentine shit like that one time," Tyrone popped up, "She's the shit, but she ain't no cold op."

Darrren had to smile. Loyalty ran real deep. It had to be one of the best lessons Nikita taught him.

"She's hacking something," Simon volunteered, "Some kind of financial stuff. It's kind of a unique talent for her."

"So what's Tony doing then?" Brian asked, looking over at Simon.

"Don't know," Simon replied, "I just see the comm assignments."

Operations and Madeline both walked in. Operations did all the talking. Madeline was silent. Darren knew why she was there; she was judging and evaluating Darren and his team. Darren hoped the team knew that.

It was while they were heading out to the van that Tyrone asked Simon when the last time he'd been out on site was.

"A while ago," Simon said carefully, "Busted my leg - long story."

"Don't fall this time then," Tyrone commented pushing past the computer tech.

Darren ground his teeth. Kim had never expressed anything good about Simon. She thought he was an idiot in fact. Darren just hoped he was competent enough to track hostiles.

*****

"I don't like it here," Kristie announced after a moment.

Stephen nodded. There was a natural bowl - which would conceal their transaction. But it also prevented them from watching their backs - especially with just the two of them.

"You know what I don't like? With what little I know of bikers, why the hell would they be dealing with the kind of people Section goes after?" Stephen commented, "They're supposed to be the fiercely patriotic types, right?"

"Used to be," Kristie sighed, "People change, the rules change . . . money is a powerful incentive."

Then, something drew Kristie's attention. It was off in the distant, almost imperceptible at first. But she knew what it was. Only one thing sounded like that.

"We got company," Kristie announced, looking east, "Harley's."

Stephen looked at her for a moment, then he heard . . . something.

They both ran up the ridge. Up there, they'd have a better view and wouldn't be trapped. If things got out of hand, they'd have a rather large rock to use as cover.

A few moments later, they saw them, the tail of dust rising in the air behind them announcing their presence. The noise that warned them got louder and louder, and within minutes, there were 6 bikes pulling up onto the ridge. Those six bikes brought eight people.

"You Wolfe?" One of them asked, looking at Stephen.

"You Crank?" Stephen answered him, sizing the other man up as he himself was being sized up.

"You're early," the one who obviously was leading this small group said, "Thought we'd come check the area out a little in advance."

"Nice spot," Stephen replied, "a little hard to defend, but a nice spot."

"Also hard to see into," Crank replied, "Which was why this spot was chosen."

Cranks eyes darted to Kristie, "That your bitch?"

"Yeah, she's mine," Stephen said, enunciating the word 'mine' - "good with a gun, sharp eyes and keeps her mouth shut."

"My kind of bitch," Crank said, laughing a little, and looking around at his group, "Last time I did business with a bitch though, she was on her back."

Then there was another sound that drew their attention. It was low at first, a faint 'whoop, whoop' sound - but it got louder - quickly.

The other bikers exchanged looks between each other. Stephen and Kristie both kept darting their eyes from the other bikers - and the sky. They knew what that sound was.

"It's a chopper," Stephen announced, "You expecting company?"

"No," Crank said, heading for his bike.

Stephen grabbed Kristie's arm, starting for the bowl again. That small cave was the destination he had in mind.

The sound grew louder and louder, and just as they got down into the bowl, they heard something explode. They both had their guns in their hands, and now raced for the cover of the cave. Kristie heard Stephen gasp suddenly - like the air had been knocked out of him, and he fell. She skidded in the dirt, and turned to reach him, but then there was a blinding light, and her eyes suddenly felt seared.

She cried out, her hands covering her face as she dropped to the ground, falling backward away from the explosion.

"Kristie!" Stephen's voice called out to her.

Gunfire sounded around them, and Kristie blinked several times, but she couldn't see anything. She reached out, feeling around her, finding only debris and dirt.

"Kristie," Stephen's voice yelled at her, now closer, and she felt two hands grab her under her arms. Somehow, she knew they were Stephen's. He dragged her back several feet, and then dropped her.

"Don't go anywhere!" Stephen barked at her.

Stephen had left Kristie inside the mouth of the cave, just far enough in to protect her from the overhead gunfire.

He'd seen her turn back for him, and he'd felt the powerful heat from the flash grenade, but he'd been facing away. She hadn't. He saw her hands fly up to her face, and fear set in right away - she'd been blinded.

So he'd ignored his own wounds, and dragged her back to relative safety - what little safety was available, and darted back out into the fray.

But the fight was over. When he came back out, all but one of the bikers were dead, and he was badly wounded.

"Who the fuck was that?" Stephen demanded, walking up on the biker, who was now pulling himself onto a bike.

"Fucking suppliers!" The man swore, "Bastards double-crossed us!"

The bike roared to life.

"Hey," Stephen snapped at him, "Before you haul out of here - who are your suppliers - I want to know who never to trust."

"Red Fucking Cell," The biker snapped, "Some fucking Eastern Europe bastards. I'm out of here!"

Stephen felt his gut twist. Red cell, attack and kill bikers? Not Likely - but it was likely that they'd attack if they knew Section was involved.

Stephen ran back towards the cave. They had to leave - now.

Kristie's hands flew to her eyes, as if somehow she could wipe away whatever it was that had blinded her. But instead, all she felt was rather sore, tender flesh on her face. What she heard were shouts, gunfire, and more explosions.

Then, suddenly it stopped.

She reached for her boot knife, palming it quickly, and lay very still, just in case it wasn't Stephen that came back for her.

She waited several minutes, before she heard footsteps. She remained deathly still, controlling her breathing, staying as quiet as possible.

"Kris," Stephen hissed, "Relax - it's me."

Kristie had never been so relieved to hear Stephen's voice.

"What happened?" Kristie asked him.

"One biker just left, the rest are dead, and the one that left told me the suppliers attacked us - and the suppliers are Red Cell. Why would Red cell kill off bikers?"

"Only if they were double-crossed," Kristie replied, "Or knew we were here."

"Exactly," Stephen replied, "Which means they'll be back for a body count, we have to leave, now. Can you walk?"

Kristie nodded, "If you guide me . . . are you OK?"

Stephen took a deep breath, "Singed my ass, but that's about it - took care of that nasty nick from whatever knocked me down."

Kristie held onto his arm with a death grip, her other hand flailing in front of her. She stumbled twice.

"Kris," Stephen said softly, scooping her up into his arms, "You can bitch me out later for just taking over."

"This time I won't bitch," Kristie told him, "Our bike, is it even ride-able?"

"I hope so," Stephen replied, striding quickly over to the overhang their bike had been stashed under.

He set her down, and quickly looked it over. Aside from a few scratches and a bullet hole tearing up the seat, it looked OK. He set her into the deep seat, and climbed on behind her. The engine roared to life, and Stephen tore down the road, going west.

She didn't question why he had put her in the front, but figured it out once they were moving.  With her sight gone, she had no sense of balance, and could throw the weight off if they had to make a sudden turn.  With Stephen behind, his arms on either side of her, he took her out of the equation.  He would be in control of the direction that they had to lean, and could give her a feeling of security at the same time.  While she leaned back into him as they road at a breakneck pace, she had time to think. She thought about her blindness - what it would mean to Section - all the things she couldn't do. She'd be useless to them. They'd cancel her. She prayed to god that this was just temporary, that her eyes would heal. After all, she'd only got a glimpse of the light, right? Nothing had hit her eyes. If the burns were minor, she'd see again . . .maybe . . .

She felt and heard the engine change... Stephen was slowing down. The feel of the road beneath them changed too, she felt the bike turn, and a moment later, roll to a stop. Stephen cut the engine.

"We're at a hotel and diner Kris," Stephen replied, "We're gonna go inside, and find us a doctor for your eyes."

Kristie swallowed hard. She remembered that town vividly. She hadn't seen any sign that read "doctor".

"We ain't got no doctor," The woman behind the diner counter said, "What did you say happened to you all?"

"Some idiots decided to blow some stuff up out in the desert, we just stumbled across them," Stephen replied.

"Jack boy - he's my kitchen man - he was a medic in the army or something like that. Let me go get him. Maybe he can help you all out."

Kristie listened to the exchange. She didn't want to ask what a medic was doing as a short order cook now. She'd hoped that there might be a vet nearby at least.

"I'm gonna bring you around to a seat Kris," Stephen told her gently, "Feel the edge, on the back of your legs? Sit straight back."

Kristie gingerly lowered herself down, her hands feeling around her as she went. It was a booth. She felt a table, and the back of the bench on either side of her.

"Hey, who here needs . . . oh gotta be you two."

Kristie turned towards the sound, frustrated with her inability to see, "Yep, that would be us."

She heard an felt something get set down on the table next to her rather abruptly, "Sue - Ann, get me a whole thing of napkins, and some of that bottled water in the jugs in back."

Stephen felt a hair bit of relief when the cook came out from the kitchen. He was wiping his hand off with a paper towel - having just washed them. He looked clean and tidy.

He pulled up a chair, and sat across from Kristie. Stephen listened in silence while the man gently gave orders to the waitress about what to get and bring to him.

"I am almost afraid to ask - but you just happen to keep medical supplies in your place here?" Stephen asked him, while he watched the men lay Kristie back on the diner table.

"Oh I get lots of folks like you all in here, some I help, some I don't. Depends," he replied.

Stephen took a deep breath, "On what?"

"Well, Vegas ain't so far away. I figure most people could get there in another day - if they needed a hospital. But folks on the lam tend to avoid places like Vegas, too many cops."

Stephen felt his stomach twist. He thought they were on the run. They were, kinda.

"I hate cops," the cook/medic continued, "Bastards think they own the whole god damn world."