Written with One Lobo
NC-17

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Click...Chhhshhhhhhh....

  "Well, I'll be damned.  I can't believe they were worried about your shooting.  You're dead bang Wild Thing, as usual.  The only thing I'm wondering is how will Ops like your sense of humor?"

  "Well frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.  I think he should be pleased that I have both my sight and my sense of humor intact.  This proves both, does it not?  Take it to him Walter, let him choke on it."

  Kristie brushed a kiss across Walter's cheek, and started towards Nikita's office.  Walter turned to Brianna and saw the sheer amusement her face held.  She stepped forward and unclipped the paper target from the clip chain that Walter had pulled up from the range's far wall.  Still smiling as she held it out, Walter couldn't control his own grin as the light shone through the nearly perfect heart-shaped hole.

***

  "What's the good word Kita?"  Kristie peeked her head in, hoping for a smile.  She was rewarded with one, albeit a weak one.

  "Come on in, and shut that for me, will you?"

  The door clicked as it secured in it's lock, and Kristie watched as Nikita first slid out a small panel, then punched a sequence of numbers on a tiny keypad.  A low hum emanated from the ceiling, the floor, the walls . . . seemingly everywhere and nowhere.  Nikita watched Kristie as she looked around the small office.

  "Hummph.  You never realize how loud that white noise shit is until your ears are suddenly turned up to Pepe's range.  I bet he hates this," Kristie waggled a fingertip inside one ear to further demonstrate her displeasure.

  "Sorry, but I really need to talk to you in private."

  "It's okay, as my eyesight improves even more, the hearing will return to the normal range.  What's so secretive?"

  "Casey . . ."

 "Oh man, what now?  Let me guess...he broke someone's arm...groped another female recruit..."

  "He's dead Kris."

  Kristie's mouth snapped shut, her eyes betraying her for a second before the calming glaze fell over them again.  Guarded, shutdown . . . Michael-style.  Nikita stilled a shiver that threatened to climb her spine as she watched the transformation.  Kristie and Alex had both mastered this, but Nikita couldn't get there herself.

  "Tell me."

  "After the training sessions with you were cut off, Madeline sent him up for evaluation and reprogramming.

His new trainer was Kala, transferred in from Section Five, to train only Casey.  There was a mission on the pad that called for . . . well, him.  He fit the profile totally, and there was no second choice.  His training was basically started over from scratch, but Kala was merciless.  I always thought there should be a certain amount of enjoyment in Valentine training, but she drove him Kristie."

  "I don't understand.  What do you mean by 'drove him'?  How do you force someone, especially a man, into Valentine training if he's rebelling against it?"

  "There are always drugs available for . . . " Nikita started.

  "Drugs!  She drugged him up?  What the hell kind of trainer . . . "

  "The kind that produces the end result that Madeline wanted Kristie.  He was basically an automaton that was fueled by foreplay and sex.  Where she failed, was in the loss of his natural instinct for self-protection.  Someone forgot to remind him that the fairer sex can be deadly as well."

  "So, he was sent on this mission unprepared, and fucked up on drugs."

  "Basically."

 "Okay, no more interrupting . . . give me the whole thing, cliff-note version."

  "Sent to LA, simple intel gathering.  The target in the end game is a cartel king running coke from Nicaragua.  The link was his west-coast mistress.  From our intel, we found that he has different women in several different location, but treats them all as if they are the only one.  His wife is elderly, old money, that provided him with the initial seed-money for his small business front.  As the coke business took off, and he gained more contacts, more routes to launder the money, he stayed away more and more, and she's grown ill with cancer.  The mistresses were just a dalliance at first, but the girl in LA was smart as well as beautiful. She became a direct partner as she proved herself worthy by first seducing, then eliminating some of his biggest competition.  She had the goods on him, all we needed to shut him and several others down, but she was loyal.  That's where a little planted evidence came in, along with Casey.  E-mailed photos with him and some of his other women in very compromising positions, videos dropped from undisclosed locations so she could see that those were indeed his moves, and not some cut and paste job . . . and she was . . . "

  "Ripe for the picking," Kristie finished.

 "Exactly.  Casey was sent in, made it into her circle, into her house, into her bed . . . and into a hole in a very remote mountainous location.  We don't know exactly when or why it went bad, he was dark for most of the mission, but when it went bad . . . it was really bad."

  "Do I need to know this?"

 "You do, and you'll know why in a moment.  She is brutal.  He was eviscerated.  He was split from throat to groin, his intestines pulled out and fashioned into a noose that was looped around his own neck.  A mob touch was added too, the final insult for a snitch . . . his penis was cut off and shoved into his own mouth."

  Kristie felt her stomach tighten, the sting of bile at the back of her throat.  She met Nikita's gaze and steadied her voice before she spoke again.

  "We know she did this to him . . . herself?"  

 "This is her standard MO.  Her boyfriend's competition was taken out the same way, and she

filmed it for him.  We were able to obtain a five-second loop of it if you . . . "

  "God no, I believe you."

 "Kris . . . we have to send someone else out to get her."

  "Stephen."

 Nikita felt her throat tighten as she looked at her friend.  Kristie's eyes again held the controlled fury, turmoil held inside her barely contained.

  "I know your going back active, and I wanted you to have the heads up on this."

 "Get me on that mission Nikita.  I don't care who I have to go through, I will be on that mission."

  "I'll do what I can."  Nikita looked down at her keyboard, before she watched it bounce on her desk from the force of Kristie slamming her hands onto the tabletop.

  "No!  You'll do what it takes!  Whatever it takes, or you'll be minus not only one operative when you lose Stephen on that mission; but you won't have to worry about buying Christmas presents for Operations, Madeline, or me.  I will cut their fucking heads off before anyone's able to kill me!"

  Nikita didn't have time to close her gaping mouth before her door slammed shut again, this time as Kristie left her office.    

****

"Why you?"

  "Kris, this is what my training initially focused on.  This kind of mission was my forte."

 "Was."

  "Look, we knew that something like this would eventually come up again. Michael helped move me more out of that and into cold Op work, but this is still part of my job."

  "She's dangerous."

 "If anyone knows how dangerous women can be, it's the men in this place. I have only to look at you, Alex, Nikita, and even Kim to know that.  I'm not going into this cold, or fucked up like Casey was.  I didn't like that little punk, but I saw the loop of what this one is capable of, and no one deserved that.  He was still alive when she started on him."

  "I just don't understand how she could totally incapacitate him that easily."

 "With a good blow-job, and quick moves with handcuffs that he didn't see. They were already fastened to the head-board of the bed.  Once she has their hands secured, the legs are really no problem.  She keeps short linked ankle cuffs at the other end ready to go."  

  "I'm going to be there.  Come hell or high water, I'm going to be there."

  "If Nikita can find a way . . . "

 "She WILL find a way, she has no other choice."

  "What did you say to her?  Kris???"

 "Never you mind about that.  Just know that I'll have your back on that mission.  I'm ready."

  "Operations showed me the target from your session with Walter earlier. Cute."

 "Is that what Ops said?"

  "Not quite, but he did crack a bit of a smile when he thought I wasn't looking.  He knows you're ready...he did say that in no uncertain terms."

 "Damn good thing he knows it.  I've reviewed the schematics of her house. She has two rotations of ten guards, five in each rotation.  She also has six trained Rottweilers...happily for me."

  "Uhhh, what are you up to?"

 "Gotta go honey, lots of work to do.  See you tonight?"

 "Seven, my place?"

  "You got it."

****

"Michael," Alexandra said softly, as she walked into his office, "I'm on Ryan's team for this mission coming up tonight."

Michael didn't nod, didn't blink, didn't do anything but look at her. Alexandra sighed and closed the door she'd just walked through. She walked closer to his desk, and leaned forward, balancing on the two hands she'd placed on his desk.

"Can you stop psychoanalyzing me for 5 minutes and listen to what I'm concerned about?" Alexandra asked him.

No reaction from Michael, he simply said, "I'll listen."

"He shouldn't be leading a team. He's cocky, arrogant, and not a team player. We all hate him, we all resent him, we have no confidence in him. I've worked under him twice before. The rest of Section calls it the 'screw-up' team. I'm beginning to wonder if it's an abeyance team, but we're being sent on low level crap," Alexandra told him.

"You're not in abeyance," Michael told her, calmly.

Alexandra stood back, sighing, "Like they would tell you if I was."

Michael typed up something, and turned the screen towards her so she could read it. Alexandra pulled the chair closer, and sat down.

It has the basic stuff. Age, sex, physical stats. Training sets she'd mastered. Current status - level 3. Michael was listed as her mentor. Alexandra looked up at Michael, as she reached for the mouse. Michael gently grabbed her hand.

"What? It's my file," Alexandra argued.

"What do you think the notes of other people will tell you?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra pulled her hand out of his grip, "What don't you want me to see?"

"You're will-full, stubborn, defiant, but you follow orders on missions - for the most part. You have a habit of going off profile when you feel strongly about something. Consummate actress, handles high stress situations well. Adapts well. Has the ability to think on her feet. That sums up the three years of active status. You were being evaluated for Level 4 when you were sent out on the Carlson mission. While on the Carlson mission, you had a miscarriage. You're performance on the mission was evaluated as above expectations. During the months that followed, some of your performance scores dropped, at one point they dropped by 5. They've reached optimum levels again - over the last three months. However, you are no longer considered will-full, stubborn or defiant. You always follow orders. You're performance is always good."

Alexandra sat there, listening to him.

"So when I'm pissing them off, they're happy. When I'm not pissing them off, they're not. What's the deal here Michael?"

"If you don't figure it out over the next week, come back and tell me. I'll make the appropriate arrangements."

Alexandra frowned, "What appropriate arrangements?"

Michael just looked at her. No expression, no comments. But it spoke volumes. If she couldn't figure this out, she really had no place, and no future in Section.

Alexandra stood up, and walked out. Playing it safe had never worked for her in the past. It certainly wasn't working here.

*****

Darren was sitting at a desk in planning when Alexandra walked in. He looked up, nodded to her, but that was it. Alexandra gave him a quick smile, and sat down to pull up the mission schematics for the mission she was being sent out on tonight.

The actual mission would take place tomorrow night, in Amsterdam. The target frequented a particular club for business and pleasure. Their job was to tag the target, then take him when he was away from the club, after he'd conducted his business.

Alexandra knew who'd be doing the tagging - she would. But then she saw another woman's name on the roster - Wanda. Alexandra knew of her, but didn't know her well. She'd been a cold op for a year, and she'd been one someone else's team. Her mentor had been killed two months ago - and everyone who'd worked under her trainer was absorbed into other level 5 cold op's rosters. Apparently Michael had gotten her, and put her under Ryan.

Alexandra hated working with Ryan. He was always more interested in being crude than anything else. The beating he'd taken two weeks ago from Darren hadn't helped any. He'd come out of the experience even more surly than before. If someone asked Darren about the fight, Darren said Ryan gave him a damn good fight. Ryan said Darren got lucky. Ryan was a poor loser.

Alexandra sighed, and looked over at Darren. He had maps spread out in front of him, a tactical display on the holo screen.

She got up from her chair, and walked over, and stood behind him.

"Iraq - lucky you," Alexandra commented.

Darren looked up briefly, "Unlucky me, unlucky team. We're set back to back for the next two missions. Twelve hours of down time on the plane in between them to sleep, on our way back from Iraq."

Alexandra frowned, "That's pushing it just a little - we don't have another fiasco like Seattle going on again, do we?"

"No, we're just that short," Darren sighed, "Nikita is out, Dante is out - I've been having my follow up meetings with Nikita over the web. The woman hasn't slept with her husband in a week."

Alexandra opened her mouth to comment, but then closed it.

"What?" Darren asked.

"Nothing - what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure every last thing had been covered," Darren replied, glancing up at the tactical schematics in front of them.

"I don't see one way you could possibly cover this better Darren," Alexandra told him, looking at the screen, "When do you go out?"

"Tomorrow morning, we just got in an hour ago," Darren told her.

"Michael is going out tonight, different mission than I'm on. I've been stuck with Ryan, again."

"Enjoy," Darren said sarcastically, "Be careful Alex, he'll be looking at your ass more than the mission."

Alexandra nodded, "I know - believe me. There are two female ass's on this team too right now, so I don't know if that means twice the distraction, or what."

She looked at her watch. She had four hours before the mission briefing. She leaned in closer to Darren, leaning forward so the v of her blouse would fall forward, giving him a view of cleavage,  "You know, I've got four hours before the briefing - we could go to your place, or mine."

Darren swallowed hard. He wanted to, but he had so much to do . . .

"Come on - you could use the break I'm sure - think of it as tension release."

Darren drew in a deep breath, looked at the maps, the holo screen, then back at her.

"OK," Alexandra sighed, "I know, you're busy."

She turned away, and headed out the door. She'd go the gym, and get in a good work out. She had a different type of tension to burn off.

*****

Hours later . . .

Kristie walked into the locker room, after having a martial arts lesson. She spotted Alexandra, standing in her bra and panties, looking at something on the wall. While Kristie watched. The red head pulled her bra off, then looked back toward the wall again.

Kristie laughed, and walked up behind the redhead, "They're called breasts."

Alexandra laughed, "Dumbass - I know that. I think the bra makes them look smaller."

Kristie laughed, "Uh . . . no, not really - I mean, not that I look at you're breasts all that much, but I think I'd have noticed if they looked drastically smaller in a bra, versus out of one - you'd bubble out or something."

Alexandra nodded, then turned a little, and looked at the view of her butt in the mirror."

"Alex," Kristie laughed, "Stop it! You're cracking me up here! I work out with you! You're butt looks good, your tit's look good. You're hair even looks good, which is a miracle, considering what you did to it."

Alexandra sighed, and opened up her locker, "Then why can't I get Darren's attention? There was a time when I'd look at him, and he'd get a hard on. Now, I ask for sex, he turns me away."

Kristie watched her friend quickly dab on some makeup, and frown at her reflection.

"Is this like a one time occurrence, or what?" Kristie asked her.

"I've blatantly asked 4 times over the last two weeks, and I've been shut down all four times. I drop hints like bombs. He's so obsessed with planning. I guess I should be more sympathetic - but he's been like this for months. A few hours ago, I did all but shove my tits in his face, and he still shut me down." Alexandra told her, and zipped her makeup bag closed, "I wanna go harass Walter and Brianna before my briefing. I'll catch ya later."

*****

Alexandra slid onto the bar stool, and watched Brianna carefully finish the final inventory check for one of the missions.

"Anything new and exciting here?" Alexandra asked her.

Brianna shrugged, "New Rifles - Walter has been adjusting the sites all day," Brianna told her, "They came in high - really high."

As if on cue, Walter walked in from the back door, and patted Brianna's butt as he walked by. She looked at him, "child."

"You love it," Walter sighed contentedly, "Red, what can we do for ya?"

Alexandra sighed, "Nothing, I'm just here to shoot the shit."

Some of the people on Ryan's team walked by, obviously heading up to the briefing room.

"And there go the sheep," Walter sighed.

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "Sheep?"

"Yeah," Walter said, "Sheep - they all need to be led - no independent thinkers there. Always simple missions - for a reason. It's like Ryan got the bottom of the barrel - because he really shouldn't be a level 4 cold op, but he is, and he can do the minor stuff."

Alexandra groaned, "Walter, I've been stuck on that team."

Walter almost gagged, "You? Temporarily, right?"

"For this one, I don't know about any other ones. Michael has me assigned to one of his teams later this week, but this came up just this morning."

Walter sighed, "Whatever you did kiddo, don't do it again."

*****

Kristie watched Alexandra follow the rest of the team out. She had her mission face on, but Kristie couldn't help but think about what her friend had told her earlier, and how bummed out she'd been. It was late, the most of the people still in section were just the night crew.

Kristie walked into planning. Darren looked up, and nodded to her. She walked over, pulled a piece of paper out of the printer, and wrote on it. Then she walked over, pulled Darren's chair back, suddenly, and sat on his lap, straddling him, "Do I have your undivided attention?"

Darren sighed, "Christ Kristie!"

Kristie held up the piece of paper.

Darren read it: Fuck your girlfriend

"Uh . . . what the hell is going on here?" Darren demanded.

Kristie pointed to her chest, "These - are called breasts. Alex was just sizing hers up in the locker room, thinking that maybe you hadn't noticed them when she leaned forward and asked you for sex a few hours ago."

"Jesus, she's pissed because I didn't go home with her for a quickie? I've got work to do here Kristie!"

Kristie sighed, "When was the last time you even sought her out to say hello Darren? How long has it been since you spent the night with her, or an afternoon, or anything?"

Darren sighed, he couldn't remember.

"My personal life has to come last Kristie, Alex should understand this," Darren said bitterly.

Kristie stood up, "Fine. Then you'll understand when she moves on to someone who has time for her."

Kristie had reached the door when he stopped her.

"Are you telling me she's seeing someone else?" Darren snapped.

"No," Kristie said, "Not yet, but eventually someone in here is bound to notice she's been rather . . . unattached lately."

*****

It was late when Nikita got home. She knew Michael's team was out, she knew she had about four hours to sleep. She could have stayed at Section - but she wanted to sleep in her bed - their bed. She pulled one of Michael's t-shirts off the top of the laundry pile. He'd worn it for all of three hours last weekend. It smelled like him, but it wasn't dirty. She pulled it on, and slid into bed, snuggling his pillow to her chest. She was asleep in minutes.

The next thing she knew, the alarm clock was going off. She sat up, and reached for it. The four hours seemed only like 4 minutes. She took another deep breath from the t-shirt, and slid out of bed. A quick shower, and it was back to work. These back to back missions were a nightmare.

*****

Alexandra was not the person tagging the target. She was on the periphery - just watching the club, watching for hostiles. Wanda was the one who was working on the target - or at least, trying too. She'd approached him twice. He'd turned her away twice. Tonight, the target apparently liked to watch. Alexandra had seen him watching other couples - mainly a lesbian couple that had just left the club. Ryan wasn't any help at all. He told Wanda to try harder, be more seductive. Alexandra offered to go in, he told her no. To top it all off, Ryan was on his fourth mixed drink. Two other guys on the team were not far behind him. Had it been one drink, to blend in - that would have been fine - and you nursed it along slowly. Ryan was drinking - and drinking hard.

This was not the first time Alexandra had seen this either, but it had never gone this far.

Alexandra sighed. Operations was gonna be pissed when this mission fell apart. The sheep would be auctioned off and butchered.

Alexandra didn't want to be a sheep. She stepped out of position, and walked over to Wanda, slung her arm around the other woman's shoulders, and planted a wet kiss on her check, "Hey Baby? You didn't have to wait for me long, did ya?"

Wanda looked at Alexandra like she'd gone stark raving mad. Alexandra stepped in front of her, blocking the targets view of her face.

"He's not watching you, or me, or any other single woman in here. He was eyeing the lesbian couple like a fiend though. Play along, I'll do the eye contact work, and he'll come to us. If not, I'll approach him."

"Alex, what the fuck are you doing?!" Ryan's voice demanded angrily in her ear.

"Saving the fucking mission," Alexandra said softly, "Why don't you watch and take notes."

Several snickers were heard over the comm units. Alexandra ignored them. She pulled Wanda out onto the dance floor, and started to make it blatantly obvious they were together, and a couple. She had to remind Wanda few times to play act along. Alexandra took them back to the bar, and started to give Wanda sips of some kind of drink - non-alcoholic, and she held the cup to Wanda's lips. When Alexandra let her eye's wander the bar, with her arm around Wanda's waist, her hand resting suggestively on Wanda's hip, the target met her gaze.

Alexandra smiled, and raised a challenging eyebrow, and then turned again, and pressed kiss to Wanda's neck.

"Please do not kiss me on the mouth, I'll die," Wanda whispered, but her expression didn't convey her agony.

"Relax, I really am acting," Alexandra told her, "Just ask Darren and Michael - I like men - a lot."

Another half an hour of long glances, and the target sent one of his men over to invite them to his table.  A few minutes later, Alexandra was on his lap, and Wanda was sitting next to him.

Two hours later, when the target was leaving, he'd given Alexandra the name and hotel room number he was staying in. He asked them to come join him - in half an hour.

Alexandra waited until he got into his car, before she climbed into the waiting van.

"A fucking hotel room! It's too public!" Ryan yelled at her.

"I didn't exactly tell him where to go. We'll just get him quietly," Alexandra told him, "Relax. This is still workable."

"How the hell are we going to work this, we have to abort!" Ryan told her, "Everyone in."

"No, we don't," Alexandra argued, "Wanda and I can-"

CRACK!

Alexandra's head snapped back and around, and Ryan brought his hand back to slap her again. Alexandra hadn't seen the first one coming, she'd anticipated his hand drawing back as him being a little tipsy. But she saw the next one. She blocked it, grabbed a fist full of hair, and slammed his head back into the van wall, once, twice, and a third time. Ryan slumped to the floor.

"Oh my god!" Wanda gasped, "What are you doing? They'll cancel you!"

Alexandra grabbed Ryan's comm unit, and switched it with her own, "I'm taking over this mission, we are not aborting, everyone to the van now."

"Alex," Simons voice came over, "I'll have to inform Operations, he'll want a reason why Ryan is not leading the team, and why his comm unit was switched.

"He's sick, he passed out," Alexandra told him, seeing several of the other team members watching her warily, "We're altering the profile. The route to the targets hotel is all very public. Our intel was not accurate at all. We're going to take him from the hotel. Wanda and I will go to his room, incapacitate him, and a room service cart and a laundry cart will be brought up to us. We'll smuggle him out that way. By the time his body guards know something is wrong, we'll be out of the hotel at least 6 hours."

Alexandra knew the rest of the team heard her plan as she relayed it. She turned and told the van driver to go to the hotel.

Alexandra turned her comm unit to monitor only, and looked at the rest of the team, "Jake, and Warren - you stay in the van, keep Ryan from getting out of it and messing things up, and I won't tell Section all three of you got fucked up on a mission. Barry and Paul, one of you goes to housekeeping, one of you gets a dinner cart. When I say come up, you come up. You'll have 15 minutes to get your carts, and swipe a uniform. Victor and Henry I want you to cover the elevators, and the stair, and be ready if things get out of hand. Everyone got it?"

There were several yes's, several murmurs.

"He ain't gonna just let this go," Jake told her, "Ryan's a vindictive bastard - and it ain't like Darren's around to watch your ass all the time."

Alexandra lazily played with her shoe, and then, lightning quick, she had a small blade in her hand, with sharp edge up against his throat. Nikita had told her how she'd once had to do something similar.

"I don't need anyone to watch my ass," Alexandra said to him, her voice menacingly quiet, "If you can't handle your task, tell me now. I really don't need two people to baby-sit Ryan."

A trickle of blood started to ooze down Jakes throat.

"Fine bitch, you wanna play it this way, just fine," Jake said, "You win, for tonight."

Alexandra smiled coldly, and looked at the rest of the team, "Any questions?"

*****

"Barry, Paul, status," Alexandra said softly, turning her back away form the target.

"Ready," came Barry's voice.

"Ready," came Paul's voice.

Alexandra turned around, and sauntered back over to the target, who had the hem of Wanda's short dress up to her panties.

"Oh no, I got a treat for you," Alexandra cooed, hiking her skirt up, revealing black lace panties, "Lay on your back for me baby, and Wanda and I will give you something you will never forget."

The target was only too happy to comply. Alexandra moved over him seductively, and jammed the tranque dart into his neck.

The target thrashed around for a few moments, then went limp.

"Barry, Paul, get up here, tell the guards we called for more wine, food, blankets and towels," Alexandra ordered.

Alexandra grabbed a towel from the bathroom, pulled the straps of her dress down, and carefully arranged the towel so she'd look like it was all she had on, when they got to the door. It would validate why housekeeping was coming up.

A few minutes later, Alexandra heard a knock at the door, and she answered it, giggling madly as she let Barry and Paul in, and smiling wickedly at the bodyguards outside the door, "I spilled wine on everything!"

She closed the door, dropped the towel and quickly pulled her dress back into place.

"The target goes into the laundry cart, Wanda and I will climb in on top," Alexandra announced.

Barry and Paul started to lift up the target, "Why did I get a food cart then?"

"Because they think there's a wild party going on in here, and that I've spilled the wine everywhere," Alexandra told them as she climbed into the laundry cart, curling up into a ball on top of the client. Wanda climbed in next.

"Pour wine on a blanket, and toss it on top of us," Alexandra told them.

They did as she ordered. A few minutes later, they were being rolled away.

*****

"You're back," Nikita said, surprised, seeing Michael standing in comm.

Michael turned to look at her, "I was in DC last night, I just got back two hours ago. There was a problem with Ryan's team."

Nikita took a deep breath, "What happened."

Michael's expression remained calm, "Ryan apparently became ill. Alexandra took over the mission, and changed the profile. Right before Ryan became ill and subsequently passed out, he was heard yelling at Alexandra for stepping out of position, and calling to abort the mission."

Nikita took a deep breath, "Did the mission meet it's objective?"

"Yes," Michael replied.

Nikita sighed in relief, "Well, it isn't a total loss then . . .

*****

Alexandra sat near the front of the plane, away from the other cold ops, and she sat in a seat where she'd be facing them. She had her coat over her legs, and once everyone else went to sleep, she felt safe enough to doze off herself.

That was a mistake.

She woke up, when something hit her in the face, and knocked her to the floor. She twisted and rolled to get away, but she still couldn't avoid the foot that was aimed for her side. She felt a rib pop and break.

She reached up, for her face, pretending to protect her face, and instead, turned her comm unit back on. She'd had just a glimpse to see some faces watching, but no one here was going to help her. Just like Walter said - sheep. These sheep were afraid of Ryan.

"Fucking bitch!" Ryan snarled, "Take over my god damn mission and make me look bad!"

He kicked again, but she managed to roll out of the way. She'd gotten up to her knee's and dodged the next kick, and grabbed his leg, yanking hard and dumping him on the floor.

"What the fuck is your problem!" Alexandra demanded. She knew what the answer would be, but she wanted to goad him into saying more, so the transmitter would pick it up. If no one was listening, it would at least trigger an auto-record function. Jake ran up, and came at her while Ryan was getting up off the floor. Alexandra had just made it to her feet, and she was backed into a corner. She knew she was in a really bad position.

"You, little bitch, are the problem!" Ryan snapped, "Section does not need to know what goes on when we are out in the field, we're going to make sure you don't feel like telling them."

Alexandra struggled, blocked and fought to defend herself. But Ryan was reasonably good, Jake was reasonably good, and after a few moments, Ryan yelled at Warren to come help them. Two of them held her still, while the Ryan beat her until she passed out.

The last thought Alexandra had was that at least Kristie would take care of Pepe.

*****

"What happened to her?" Dr.Marc asked, as the gurney with Alexandra was brought in.

"The target worked her over," Ryan told him.

"Has she been given anything?" Dr. Marc asked, feeling for a pulse. It was strong and steady.

"Nope," Ryan said, as he walked out the door, "Let me know when she comes too. Call me first."

Dr. Marc watched Ryan go, something in the back of his mind telling him something wasn't right. A few moments later, Kristie came rushing in.

"Where is - oh shit!" Kristie said, seeing that the person she was looking for was there - and looking just as bad as she'd heard.

Marc didn't look up and greet Kristie. He was giving two techs orders to start an IV, and take vitals while he cut away her dress.

Kristie watched silently as Marc carefully prodded each area where there was bruising.

"She's rigid here - just under the diaphragm," Marc announced, "Prep an room to operate, and tell Claudia to send Operations a message that she will be in surgery."

"What's happening?!" Kristie demanded.

Marc didn't look back at her, but he answered, "The target apparently beat her up before they got to him. She's got some internal bleeding here. It can't be a huge bleed, considering how long she's been like this, but it will kill her eventually if I don't stop it."

He started to push the cart back towards surgery.

Kristie stood there, feeling helpless.

*****

Michael stood up, to leave the debrief. He'd finished most of his reports on the plane. Nikita would be back in three hours. He could go home, shower, have dinner prepared - breakfast . . .

"Michael," Madeline said, just as he reached the door, "About the mission to Amsterdam - Ryan's mission. There are some inconsistencies we're addressing."

Michael stopped, "I'm aware that Alexandra broke profile. I haven't seen the report yet though."

"Apparently she was careless on the return trip, and the target got loose. She was beaten badly. She's been out of surgery for two hours," Madeline told him, but she hasn't regained consciousness yet."

Michael felt alarm bells going off in his head. Why would the target have not been restrained?

"She's your material," Madeline told him, "Handle it. I've sent the reports to your queue - separately. There are some inconsistencies in Ryan's report as to time frames. I didn't press him. I expect your full report, soon. The target does not have any memory of beating her. Nor does he have any bruising on his hands, no scratches, no trauma to suggest he attacked a operative with Alexandra's self defense skills. Ryan however, along with Warren and Jake, all explained their injuries to be caused form subduing the target."

***

"Birkhoff," Michael said, pushing his weariness back, "Pull the transmission for the Amsterdam mission, along with any auto-record obtained during the return flight."

Birkhoff nodded, his fingers flying over the keyboard, "Seems kinda odd to me. Alex isn't the type to go back and release a target, out of sympathy or to torment him."

"It does," Michael replied, his eye's tracking around the main floor, watching. Ryan was no where in sight.

Birkhoff handed him a disk, "It's all yours."

***

Michael picked up Alexandra's chart, quickly glancing over the notes. Multiples contusions, two broken ribs. Soft tissue facial trauma. Initial plastic correction had been done already. Surgery had taken care of internal bleeding. The bleeding was not consistent with the time frame though.

"Michael," Dr. Marc said quietly, walking up from the back hallway, "I have some concerns."

Michael set the chart down, "Yes?"

"You probably just read that the bleeding I found was not consistent with the time frame Ryan gave me. Had she been bleeding that long, at the rate that she was bleeding when I operated, she'd have been dead. I had to transfuse three units of blood. There are also some bruises around her forearms, almost at the shoulder - almost identical pressure bruising, as if she'd been held down, or held still - consistent with two people holding her. The target did not do this."

"No, he didn't," Michael replied, "Who's been in here to see her?"

"Kristie, Walter, Brianna, Ryan, and Jake," Marc told him, "Ryan has been adamant about being notified when she wakes up. He's asked twice if there is a chance she would die."

"I didn't see anything on the chart to indicate severe brain trauma - your notes say pupils were responsive, with some minor drag."

"She should have a helluva headache when she wakes up, mild concussion. I'll need to do some laser treatment to the skin around the stitching on her cheek. The ribs will need time to knit and calcify. I'd roughly estimate that she will be out of the field for two months."

"Do not notify Ryan. Move her into a secured room. Don't let anyone from the team she was on in to see her. When she wakes, contact me immediately."

***

Nikita walked into Michael office four hours later.

"I heard this nasty rumor," She said, "But I haven't been to see her yet."

"What have you heard?" Michael asked.

"That Alex released a target, and he beat her almost to death," Nikita replied, "Which doesn't sound like Alex."

Michael sighed, "She didn't."

Michael keyed something in.

Nikita listened to a short transmission. It was Ryan and Alexandra, then Jakes voice, something from Warren. She heard Ryan say they were going to make sure Alexandra didn't feel like telling section what went on in the field. She heard Ryan order Warren to help Jake hold her down. There were several sounds that told Nikita someone was being beaten - hard.

Nikita swallowed hard, "Where is Ryan now?"

"On a mission," Michael said, "Due back tomorrow night. They'd been sent out before I found this."

"Does Operations and Madeline know yet?"

"No," Michael replied, "I just found this. I'm going to make my report to them, and then check on her again."

***

Nikita had been let into the secured surveillance room, Pepe in her hands. Alexandra was still asleep. Nikita sat down in a chair next to the hospital bed, and carefully set Pepe down by Alexandra's head, on the side where she hadn't had anything stitched up.

Pepe whimpered, and started to lick Alexandra's face.

Nikita sat there, watching him. A few moments later, Alexandra started to wake up.

She groaned as her eye's opened, and flinched back when she saw Nikita move.

"It's ok, it's just me," Nikita said softly.

Pepe gave Alexandra another big lick on the cheek, "Pepe . . . auto record - did it pick up-"

"Yes," Nikita told her, "Michael's gonna come in soon and ask you some questions. Just rest till then."

Alexandra turned her head into Pepe a little. Pepe curled up, snuggled into her hair and cheek.

The sound of the door opening drew everyone's attention. Pepe jumped up, barked once, and growled.

Nikita couldn't help but laugh at Pepe's show of being ferocious. The little Chihuahua stopped when it was Michael that came into view.

Slowly, Alexandra's eyes slid open.

***

Michael was standing in the white room, off to the side, observing the interrogation. Ryan was strapped onto the metal chair, and a table with several syringes sat next to them. Ryan was covered in a sheen of sweat, he was pale, and looked like he'd been suffering.

Just then, Operations walked in, and slammed his fist into Ryan's face, making his head snap back and bounce of the back of the chair. Operations followed it up with another hard punch to the gut, making Ryan cough and gasp for air.

"What are you doing?!" Madeline asked tersely, her tone of voice conveying indignation.

"The lab results came back on the blood found on Alexandra's jacket. Ryan's blood, with a blood alcohol level of 2.1. He was roaring drunk on the mission. So where two other operatives that took part in the beating. Nine out of his last 12 missions have had some component fail. We've lost 3 operatives during those missions!"

"Brute force is not effective with our operatives. They've been trained to resist torture," Madeline said, her tone angry, defiant.

"They've also been trained to not get drunk on missions! Thanks to him, one very good operative is out for two months, and we're down 11 Operatives already!"

"You make it sound like she is asset we can't afford to lose," Madeline said indignantly, "We're wasting resources."

"She salvaged a mission! Her performance has been exceptional for months. I think you're to busy looking for faults in her performance to see what's really going on here! We have an operative of Michael's caliber on sick leave for two months because you put her on team that was out of control."

"She is insubordinate! We will never be able to control her! She's a risk we can ill afford right now! She is nothing like Nikita! She can't draw strength from the experiences she survives the way Nikita does!"

"You forget that Nikita suffers from feelings and a conscious...personality faults that Alexandra apparently can turn on and off at will," Ops rage fully felt as hot breath hit Madeline in the face, "You're wrong Madeline. I'm promoting her to Level 4," Operations snapped.

He turned and looked at Michael, "She begins training as soon as she's able. When she comes off medical leave, I want her leading a team."

***

"To me."

"Wait."

"To me."

"Lie."

"Good boys, to me!"  Kristie was swaddled in black fur and doggy kisses as six huge Rottweilers mobbed her.  She scratched an ear here, a tummy there, her hands flying from dog to dog.  She rose from her spot where she had knelt down and grabbed the small treat bag she held.  Cinnamon cheerios were tossed and caught, a simple snack, and one that many people wouldn't think of.  The past two weeks with the dogs had been great.  Kristie worked for the first two days in conjunction with their previous trainer, gaining the dogs trust and loyalty.  She learned all of their commands and signals, noting how no words like: stop, halt, no, and down were used.  Also, there were no words in German.  Too many people knew that guard dogs were trained in a foreign language to prevent people from using the correct commands, and had made sure they learned those as well.  The cheerios were her idea, and the trainer approved, letting her only dole them out.  The dogs were ecstatic, even over this limited treat, and willing to do their best just to make the little bag come into view.

  "Okay Matt, come on in," Kristie yelled over her shoulder, and the door whooshed open.  Matt entered, completely covered in a step in padded suit, head cover and face guard.  Kristie looked to the dogs, all lined up and poised, waiting for a command from her.  They would not move unless instructed, or attacked.  Matt waited for Kristie's next word to him as well.  She turned slightly toward him, and spoke only one word.

"Now."

Matt charged toward her, arms outstretched as if to strike or grab her. Kristie did not look at the dogs, she knew they held their positions.  She let Matt get within a arms length of her before calling out to the dogs.

"At 'em!"

Matt was flattened to the floor, over six hundred pounds of snarling, biting fury on him at once.  Each dog grabbed a limb and bit down, shaking him, literally moving him across the floor with their movements.  The two who didn't get an arm or a leg found the most vulnerable regions.  One was on his neck, the other his crotch.  The pads were thick, and Kevlar lined on the interior, but Kristie knew the pressure of the dog's weight would become an issue as well if she left them on Matt for too long.  She stepped to the far side of the training room, watched the foam flying from the dog's frothing

chewing mouths, and smiled.

"To me," she spoke it, not yelling, not getting excited.  Immediately, six dogs released, and came to lie at her feet, a neat line formed the killing machine in front of her.  The tiny bag came into view, and six cropped nubs started wagging vigorously.  Cheerios were given out all around, and Matt slowly gained his feet again. He fought with the gloves, finally able to shake one of them free so he could tug the padded helmet off.

"Damn Kristie, that's amazing.  And they do that for fucking cheerios?  I'd hate to see what they'd do for steak."

"Nothing.  You can wave it in front of them, and they won't move.  A cat can twine around them, and they won't move.  We've done all that, and more."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious.  Try it if you don't believe me.  Take off the pads, walk in between us."

"Uh, I don't know..." Matt hesitated.

"I'll do it, I trust you," Stephen stepped into the room.  The dog's heads never moved, their eyes glued to Kristie and the little bag she held.

"Come on then, I trust them," Kristie gestured to the dogs still lying in front of her. Stephen strolled across the room, walked between Kristie and the dogs, and circled around to stand behind Kristie.  He reached up and placed his hands on Kristie's shoulders, slid them up and around her throat, then back down again.  Matt stood stock still, watching this display.

"If I told them to, they'd rip him apart, but you see how they're reacting," Kristie motioned to the dogs again.

"What if I said it? I heard the command, I know the word to use," Matt was only questioning, not threatening..

"They only listen to me, and they're old trainer.  And besides, you don't have the goodie bag.  She shook the small bag again, and watched the nubs waggle happily again.  She tossed a few more cheerios to each dog.

***

Alexandra looked in the hand mirror Kristie brought her, and grimaced, "I still look like a truck hit me - and it's been six days!"

Kristie smiled, "Relax - you're not worried about that little thing on your cheek - I saw Marc take care of that cut on your stomach once, remember?"

Alexandra nodded, "I was just . . . I haven't seen Darren in a week - I was hoping I would look a little better by the time he got back in . . . probably won't come to see me anyhow."

"Oh please," Kristie groaned, "The moment he hears, he'll be in here."

Alexandra shrugged, "Wanda was in here earlier today, apologized for sitting back, doing nothing. Wanted to know if I could ever forgive her."

Kristie laughed bitterly, "The bitch is lucky I wasn't here. No forgiving that! She shouldn't have just sat there, and done nothing!"

Alexandra sighed, "Kristie - they're sheep. Just like Walter said. I told her I didn't want any visitors. Which wasn't totally a lie. I didn't want visitors like her - or anyone else they're sending down to level 2."

"I still can't believe that happened here - in Section, you know? I mean, did they think they could scare you into shutting up? That or they thought you'd be dead, but why not make sure before they sent you here?"

Alexandra stroked Pepe's fur, "My first trainer, my very first trainer, beat up his material sometimes. He raped and beat me nearly to death. If Michael hadn't come along, who knows? I'm sure he did it to a number of recruits, but no one said anything out of fear."

"You told me about that once," Kristie said, "You've got the worst luck. Pepe is slacking off, or you need two Chihuahua's."

"He wasn't with me," Alexandra offered in explanation, stroking the Chihuahua's back, "They might spring me this afternoon. Can you take me to my place later on?"

****

Alexandra heard Pepe growl. That's what woke her up. She was still taking pain pills. Everything still ached. Her hand slid under the pillow, her fingers closing around her gun.

The door opened, and Darren stepped through.

Alexandra relaxed.

"What are you doing here?" Alexandra asked him.

He'd left the light off, as he shrugged off his coat, and set a grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

"I just got back in two hours ago," he said, "And before I left on this marathon week of missions, Kristie walked into planning, sat on me to get me to pay attention, and reminded me that I had a girlfriend who has needs - and that there were plenty of other men in section who'd be willing to take my place if I was gone too long."

Alexandra groaned, "Oh god, meddling bitch. She's a good friend, isn't she?"

"One of the best," Darren told her, and reached into the bag, "I bought stuff to make breakfast with, and I brought you a bag of M&M's."

Alexandra laughed, and then felt a twinge of pain.

"What I really need is a glass of water," Alexandra told him, "Bring me one?"

Darren nodded, filled a glass that was sitting in the dish drainer. He brought it over, and sat down next to her.

That was then he saw the medicine jar. He looked at Alexandra, and even in the dark, he could see some discoloration to her face. He reached for the light, and turned it on.

Alexandra blinked, and gingerly sat up.

"Jesus Christ Alex! What the hell happened to you?!"

Alexandra took a deep breath, as she opened up her jar of pills. She shook one out, put it into her mouth, and swallowed it with some of the water.

"The mission in Amsterdam went really bad. The short version is that Ryan, Jake and Warren were drinking in excess. I took the mission over, and we finished it. Got the target. On the plane ride back, I waited until they all fell asleep before I went to sleep. Ryan woke up, and he, Jake and Warren decided to beat me into not telling Section what happened. They were telling Section that I released the target, and that the target did this to me. But the target didn't have any trauma, they did. Ryan, Jake and Warren were cancelled two days ago. The rest of the team is in retraining and evaluation."

"This happened a week ago? I've been in and out of Section three times since then?! Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Alexandra drew a deep breath, "Kristie didn't see you, Nikita didn't . . . I guess no one else thought to go and tell you."

"Am I that unapproachable?" Darren asked her.

Alexandra closed her eye's, "Sometimes . . . Darren I don't want to argue any of this. Just get naked, and get into bed."

Darren sighed, "You're in no condition to do anything involving me being naked Alex, that's why you're home, taking whatever that stuff is."

Alexandra sighed, "I know but . . ."

Darren picked up the pill jar, and read the contents. It was a narcotic pain killer.

"But what?" Darren asked her.

"Nothing," Alexandra said, looking away. Darren knew she wasn't looking at anything in particular - just not him.

"These pills Alex - Marc gave them to you?"

"Yeah," Alexandra said, "Don't work real well, unless I don't move at all."

Darren stroked her cheek gently, "But what? You said you knew, but . . . and your voice trailed off."

Alexandra sighed, "Nothing, really. Just, maybe you could just hold me."

Darren started to shed his cloths, and caught a glimpse of pure longing in her eye's. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew what she wanted - his touch. It didn't have to be frantic sex.

He slid into bed, his mind going in a million directions. There was another mission coming up in 36 hours, with a profile he hadn't seen. His team needed to rest - that was the one and only thing he'd handled before he left. He ordered them all out of section - home to their own beds. No training classes, no in house assignments. Just rest. After-all, they'd been out and running for a week, with small opportunities to sleep on the plane.

The conversation he'd had with Kristie regarding Alex had weighed heavily on his mind for the past week. He'd vacillated back and forth between anger, frustration and worry. He'd walked out of section resolved - resolved to at least make an attempt to salvage what they had left - with a little bit of down time, shared between them. He'd been shocked to find out that a week ago, she'd been beaten up and hospitalized by another cold op  - and he'd never heard about it. He'd been through Section three times - and no one had said anything, he'd never heard anything. He hadn't had time to seek her out. Or, he'd convinced himself he hadn't had time.

So tonight, or this morning, he'd been shocked to walk into her apartment and find her still bruised, bandaged in bed. She looked like she'd been run over by a truck. The bruising was now turning brown and yellow. Her face was still a little puffy where Dr. Marc had done some stitching. Darren had no concerns about Dr. Marc's skills as a doctor - or in plastics. Darren had seen his work. But he did have some concern over the pain pills he'd given Alex. Granted, he'd given her some extremely low dose pills, but the jar said take 1 to 2, every 4 to 6 hours. Darren quickly assessed the amount of pills left, and looked at the number indicated on the jar about how many bills she'd been given. It looked like she wasn't taking anymore than 1 every six hours.

"Querrida, does Doc Mark know you got addicted before?" Darren asked, as he shed the last of his clothing, and climbed into bed.

Alexandra's attention was elsewhere, her fingers trailed along the flesh of his stomach, but she answered him.

"Yeah, Section has it in my medical files, remember?" she replied, her gaze on him hungry. Darren could almost read what was going on in her mind. She wanted that insane frantic abandon they had together, but she couldn't, her body couldn't, not right now.

Darren slid his fingers around hers, stretching out next to her. He continued to hold onto her hand, "What about that other time, the time Section doesn't know about."

Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "I don't tell anyone about that - you're worried about the pain pills, aren't you?"

"A little," Darren said, "I took that stuff once, knocked me into oblivion."

"I'm only taking the small doses," she told him,  "I won't let it get out of hand."

Darren felt his stomach twist into knots. He'd heard that out of many addicts before. I can handle it . . .

"OK," he said, not convinced, but not willing to argue the point with her. Time would tell. Darren would talk to Michael. Between the two of them, they could watch her. . .

"Can I at least get a kiss?" She asked softly, "I'm just going nuts here Darren . . ."

Darren leaned over, and brushed his lips against hers, his tongue stroking along her upper lip. She kissed him back, lifting her head a little, wanting more. Darren's kiss became firmer, harder, and he slid his hand behind her neck, his fingers splaying, stroking.

"Alex," he whispered, reluctantly pulling his lips from hers, "I could just pleasure you - take it easy . . ."

She nodded, reaching up for him. Darren gently pushed her hands away.

"Just relax baby," he whispered, and he started to ease the hem of her shirt up.

He gently eased it up past her shoulders, and over her head. Her whole abdomen was covered in bruises. There was a thick bandage on her abdomen as well, covering another suture line.

Darren looked at her for a moment, sighing deeply.

"Ryan is a lucky man - that Section got to him first."

Alexandra reached up, sliding her fingers his hair, where it hung down,. "Darren . . ."

He hooked his thumbs in the waist band of her panties, and gently eased them down her hips, and then off of her. Then he positioned her legs so he knelt between them, and he carefully moved over her, on his hands and knees.

He took one aroused nipple into his mouth, and started to suck and stroke with his tongue. His other hand moved between her thighs, stroking the sensitive labia there, feeling them swell slightly and part as his touch aroused her more and more.

Darren felt her body's own natural lubrication build, wetting her, making her slick and so inviting. He knew she'd taste wonderful. Her own unique taste always drove him insane. He abandoned her nipple, and moved father down on the bed, and bent his head down to replace his fingers.

He stroked along the moist cleft, tasting her fluids, penetrating deeper between the sensitive folds with his tongue, until he found the sensitive bud of flesh nestled there. Back and forth, back and forth he'd stroke, and then he suckle her a little bit, and repeat the whole process again. She tasted wonderful! Her writhing and soft moans urged him on, and then he felt her body start to tremble with the release of her orgasm.

Darren reared up, and reached for the bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer to get to a condom.

But the box of condoms wasn't the only box in there. There was also a pack of cigarettes.

"Darren please," Alexandra said softly, and he felt her thighs moving on his.

Darren pushed away his irritation over the cigarettes, and pulled out one of the foil wrapped packages, ripped it open, and rolled the latex sheath down his rock hard shaft.

He carefully eased himself inside of her, watching her face, watching her body's reactions. He didn't want to aggravate the trauma she'd sustained a week ago.

Slowly he drew back, then pushed back in, reveling in the tight, hot, wet feel of her. It never ceased to amaze him, how good they felt together. It had never been like this with any other woman. But no other woman pissed him off and made him love her so intensely the way Alex did. It was an intoxicating combination.

Slowly, her body started to build back up that tension, and Darren knew she was getting close. He carefully slid his fingers down her body, to that place where their bodies joined, and started to stroke her clit. Moments later, her muscles spasmed around him, and Darren finally relaxed his rigid control, and let his own orgasm take him.

He relaxed, allowing himself a few moments to steady himself. Then he stood up, and walked into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he came back, he yanked open the bedside table drawer, and grabbed the pack of cigarettes. He walked over to the window, yanked it open, crushed the pack in his hand, and tossed it out the window.

"What is it with you and Michael, and cigarettes going out the window?" Alexandra sighed, watching him stalk back to her bed.

Darren lay down next to her, and stroked her cheek, "Querrida, If I find out Michael gets out of your bed, takes your cigarettes when he's reaching for a condom and throws them out the window, the cigarettes won't be the only thing going out the window."

Alexandra laughed, "Oh please! Like I'd ever - like he'd ever."

Darren kissed her neck, "I'm a possessive bastard Alex, what Kristie said to me just made my blood boil."

Alexandra turned her head, and brushed his lips with her own, "What exactly did she say?"

"Something about you moving on because I don't pay enough attention to you," Darren murmured, "We're not getting there, are we?"

Alexandra groaned, "No, we're not. I . . . I just get frustrated is all. I know your team is important to you, I know you take their lives and your job very seriously . . . but sometimes it just seems like you'd rather go over the profiles, instead of spend time with me. Then I start worrying if it's the way I look, or if someone else got your attention?"

Darren propped himself up on one elbow, "Who could possibly catch my attention?"

"Section is full of beautiful women Darren - Beth?"

Darren smiled, "Beth was pretty, but she's not you. She doesn't drive me insane with a hundred different emotions like you do."

"I sound like a disease," Alexandra laughed.

"And I don't want to be cured," Darren murmured against her lips.

Madeline and Operations stood in the observation deck, the glass darkened. They could see out, but no one could see in.

"It's done.  We have the dog trainer that was working for her, and had her notified that he will not be returning."

"What reason did you give her?"

"Family death overseas.  It worked out, he had a grandmother in Venice."

"Does Kristie have the dogs ready?"

"I've never seen anything like it.  She's bonded with them, and they are totally loyal to her."

"We may have to keep that in mind, for future missions."

"Of course," Madeline turned and exited the overhead perch of Operation's.

****

"...so then they plant me as the new trainer, I'll drug her dogs, and replace them with mine.  I can take out her guards whenever I'm ordered to using the dogs, and our other Ops will replace them.  The party is in one week, on Saturday night.  Tomorrow is my first day meeting with her, and seeing the house and grounds.  If there's anything different from the schematics that we have thus far, I'll fill everyone in," Kristie folded her mocked up dossier and slid it back into her briefcase.  The other Ops left the small briefing room, leaving just Stephen and Kristie to talk.

"Sounds like a good plan.  Have you showed your part to Michael or Nikita?"

"Both of them have reviewed it, and approved.  Nikita made a couple of cosmetic changes, Michael made one tactical change.  Michael suggested to Operations to make me point on this one.  You'll be inside, and I'll have the extra force of the dogs with me.  You'll be inside by the time it all goes down, so we'll have to communicate when we can."

"I'll have Walter work something up for me, something small."

"You're going to be with her most of the time, and by the time we start wrapping it all up, you're probably going to be naked.  Looks like you're going to have a sub-cutaneous put in again!  Don't you love those things?"

"Kris, how are you doing with all this?"

"It's a job.  I'm made more comfortable with my mission perimeters by the dogs, and my profile is perfect.  I'm just the kind of trainer that she needs, and will be comfortable with."

"I don't mean that part, I mean . . ."

"I know what you mean Stephen, but there's nothing I can say that wouldn't sound pissed or jealous.  Suffice it to say, that I am at this moment both pissed and jealous.  I have also grown up a lot, and knowing...if not quite understanding the ways of Section, I do know that there is nothing I can do to stop the mission.  The best I can do, is to do the best I can .  That includes training and gaining the trust of six very large, very cool dogs that I will use to help keep you alive."

"I guess you know that you just killed my plans of trying to talk you out of that part."

"I was expecting you to try, so I readied myself and my argument.  I guess I won."

"I guess you could look at it that way," he looked over his shoulder tossing a quick glance at the vulture's roost, and found it empty.  He stroked her hair, then pulled Kristie toward him for a gentle kiss.  When he released her, Kristie's eyes were still closed as a smile spread over her lips.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I was just thinking...between you, me and the dogs, this bitch doesn't have a chance."

***

 The house was the epitome of the brash, over-indulged, gaudy mansion. Kristie mounted the marble steps that led to the large set of double doors. She recognized the rich tone of the oak wood they were made of.  Instead of a doorbell, there was an old style bell rope leading indoors, and Kristie gave it a half-hearted tug.  Adjusting her jacket over her slacks, and pushing her hair behind her ears quickly, she waited for the door to open.

When it did a moment later, a harsh glare of white light assaulted her eyes. She watched the form of a large man fill the doorway and block most of the light.

"Yes?"

"I'm here to see Ms. Charlois, I have an appointment with her.  My name is Kristie Wolfe, the new dog trainer."

"Please step in, and wait while I announce you."

*****

TWO HOURS LATER

"It's going to be a pleasure working for you Ms. Charlois.  The dogs are wonderful and we should work well together."

"Well, I am quite impressed with the respect they seemed to give you immediately.  Normally, they answer to no one except Mr. Levin, my previous trainer.  I'm very pleased to have found someone of your capability on such short notice."

"Sometimes you just get lucky I guess.  I believe that everyone gets what they deserve, don't you agree?" Kristie narrowed her gaze.

"Indeed, I truly do believe that," Ms. Charlois answered her quickly.

*****

BACK AT SECTION

"I tell you Bri, she is so creepy.  I had bad vibes as soon as I crossed those gates.  The house is like something out of the Twilight Zone.  She showed me an underground passage to get from one side of the house to the other without weaving through the halls and rooms.  During her parties, when she has a large crowd, the dog handler can use the passage to move the dogs from one side to the other on patrol without disturbing the guests.  She showed me wall safe locations that I have to check for tampering on my rounds."

"It all sounds very strategic, and it helps us a lot since she's telling you

all of this information."

"Now, if Stephen can just cover his ass till I get in there."

"He's good Kristie, one of the best from what I've heard.  And, I know you'll work extra hard, and extra quick since you have your heart invested in this too."

"Now Bri, you didn't have to bring all that into it."

"I didn't, it's already there," the older woman smiled, patted Kristie on the shoulder, and went to retrieve the needed weapons.  Walter came from communications with Birkoff in tow, both talking in a low tone until they reached Kristie in Munitions.

"Hey, Wild Thing...we have some cool toys for you and the puppies, you want to go get one of them so we can try these things out?"

"Oh yeah, I've been waiting for the time for them to make their Section debut...be right back," she started to turn, then turned back to Walter smiling.

"Oh hell, I know that grin, what are you up to?"

"Walter, can you maybe find something interesting to show Operations down here?"

Walter's grizzled face split into a conspirator's smile as he began to nod his head.  Kristie headed for the kennel, pausing by the training area to let Alexandra and Darren in on the fun.  God knew they all needed a bit of a laugh.

*****

TEN MINUTES LATER/MAIN FLOOR OF SECTION

Kristie walked through the far doorway at a leisurely pace, her black mission pants making a quiet silk on silk rasp as she did so.  The sound her pants made was muffled by the tapping of trimmed nails on the concrete of Section's floor.  To each side of her, three Rottweilers formed a neat side by side line, trotting in unison.  She stopped, and the dogs stopped beside her, standing at attention, eyes forward.  All activity ceased as they stood in the center of the floor, facing Munitions.  Operations, standing at the end of the table, was looking over a small panel, oblivious to what was happening around him.  Walter, Birkoff and Brianna all stepped lightly backward to the far end of the counter and waited.  Kristie glanced to her right, and seeing Alex standing off to the side, threw her a quick wink.

Operations finally noticed the almost total stillness of the room, and turned his gaze toward Planning and Comm.  

Kristie cleared her throat and spoke almost imperceptibly, her tone to low for human ears to hear.

"At 'em."

Six streaks of black started for Operations, heads low, mouths open. Operation's dropped the unit he was looking at a millisecond after his mouth dropped open.  He stumbled back, slamming into the table behind him, catching his foot on one leg of a stool, and barely keeping his feet under him.  The dogs had closed to within five foot of him when Kristie spoke again, louder this time.

"To me."

The dogs skidded slightly on the floor, turned, and trotted toward Kristie, circling her before taking their previous positions to each side of her.

"Lie," Kristie spoke quietly and calmly again, and waited as all the dogs dropped to their bellies beside her, long forepaws out, heads up, ears erect.  She stepped out, then turned to face them, pulling the small bag from the pocket of her vest.  The tiny nubs of their docked tails started wagging vigorously in anticipation. Kristie reached into the bag, scooping a handful of the much loved Cheerios and sprinkling a few into each open mouth.

"Good boys."

"Good boys?!  What in the hell were you just doing?!" Operations raged, stalking towards Kristie.  Just as he reached to grab her arm, a low rumble emanated from the area of the floor, and he stopped in his tracks.  Kristie looked down to see Teddy Bear, her favorite among the dogs, with his ears flattened and his eyes glued to Operations.  The growl came again, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere.  Operation's dropped his arm to his side slowly.  Kristie turned on her heel to face him, just seeing him lowering his arm. She knew he had meant to grab her, and knew what would have happened if he had.  She didn't worry about any of the others, but she and Teddy Bear had become fast friends and she had no doubt that he would have broken formation and attacked to defend her.

"I was giving you a demonstration.  I think it went well.  You still have all your limbs intact, along with all other vital parts."

"I could have you cancelled."

"I could have your throat ripped out before you opened your mouth to give the order.  I am doing my job, just as I have been since I was brought here. I have a skill with these animals, but they do not answer to the Section, they answer to me.  Unless I stop giving you the end result that you want, let me do my job, and let me be," her voice had dropped to a whisper, but her eyes had darkened to blue fury.

Operation's looked down to Teddy Bear, then back to Kristie.  "And what of that one?  I thought you had total control over them.  Did you order him to growl at me when I came at you?"

"No, I told him to watch my back.  It's not all orders in this place, it's friendship . . .a concept that you still can't grasp."

"I'll overlook this little display this time, but you had better..."

"Watch my back?  It's taken care of, don't you worry about that," Kristie stepped toward Walter and Brianna's station and looked to her dogs.  She smiled at them, some knowing and understanding passing especially between she and Teddy Bear.  He started to pant, and you would have swore that you just saw him smile.

"To me boys," the six dogs rose to their feet and forming a line behind Teddy Bear, filed past Operations towards Munitions.

"Oh man Kris, they are so ready," Birkoff stood stock still as the dogs filled the small area around him.

"Hey, relax.  You can pet them if you want."

"Uh, no.  If it's not a mouse, I don't touch it."

"Kristie, this is something that I heard one of the other cold ops say the other day, and I think it applies to you as well.  I only hope that I'm saying it right...You must have huge balls to have just done that," Brianna looked around wondering if she was correct in her usage and was rewarded with laughter from everyone.

Kristie smiled and watched as Walter lowered a tentative hand toward one of the dogs.  His head never moved, his eyes never left Kristie as Walter's hand stroked the large expanse between his ears.

"Wait till you boys see what we have for you!  You're not quite ready yet, but you will be soon."

****

LATER...

Stephen had just reentered Section, and was greeted with a surprising sight. Kristie was leaving Munitions, and he watched as the dogs filed out of the small area to form three across on each side of her.  Kristie had on her regular mission clothing, the tight pants that normally would have held his attention for several moments were forgotten when he saw the dogs.  Their uniforms were what everyone was looking at.  Kevlar vests that covered their entire body area except their legs.  A small dot, the size of an earring stud gleamed just on the inside of one ear on each dog.  The black leather collars that surrounded their necks were covered with spiked studs protecting them from being grabbed, should anyone dare to try.  Walking in formation, they were a formidable group.  Stephen stopped just inside the main room, and waited as Kristie approached him.

"You're body guard team is ready for duty sir," Kristie smiled and snapped a salute at him.

"You're the only one I'd trust around here to guard my body," he whispered, then smiled back at her.

"How do you like our canine communication devices?  They'll let me guide them and command them from up to fifty feet away.  And these snazzy punk-rocker collars really compliment their hi-fashion vests, don't you think?"

"You are just all into this aren't you?  I think you have found your niche in Section my dear."

"Well, you know how it is in this place...have fun anyway and anytime you can.  This has helped me, and in the long run, may help a lot of ops if this maiden mission goes well."

"I have all the faith in the world in you."

"I know that, now.  Look, I have some training to work on with my boys here, get them used to the com sets...that sort of thing."

"I'm off profile for tonight, I've covered with an out-of-town business meeting, so she won't be missing me.  Dinner, eight o'clock?"

"Your place, Ops isn't appreciating my sense of humor right now."

"Oh hell Kris, what did you do?"

"Nothing that letting Teddy Bear sleep on the foot of my bed couldn't take care of.  It's okay, I just had to assert myself...ah, just talk to Walter, Bri, or Birkoff.  My boys and I really have to be going.  See you at eight," she formed her right thumb and forefinger into an L, and touched his chest.

Seemed that everyone had a secret way of saying 'I love you' in this place, and this was theirs.

"You too," he answered her aloud, and watched her leave with her boys flanking her

*****

Kristie walked into munitions, and found Walter working alone.

"Where's Brianna?" Kristie asked, looking around.

"Consulting on an arson job," Walter told her, "It's kinda her forte."

Kristie smiled, "So I heard. I'd have done the same thing though, you know?"

"I know," Walter said, "Same here. What can I do for ya, Wild Thing?"

"I need my gear for the Charlois mission," Kristie told him, "Should be a nine, lots of bullets, sub-cutaneous comm unit, and some doggy dope."

Walter grinned at her description of her gear, "Doggy dope is here."

He set a vial out on the table, "Six drops per dog - because of their size. Should take affect in 5 minutes. If you have to hit a smaller dog, say 50 pounds, three drops. Pepe size dog, one drop, got it?"

"Got it," Kristie said, dropping the vial into her bag.

Walter came at her with a syringe, "One sub-cue comm unit. If it goes bad, call me, I'll send ya out another one. We never know how long they will last."

"What's happening with them?" Kristie asked him, rubbing her arm where the needle had gone in.

"Well, Alex's lasted for 4 months. Pepe's lasted for 3, but his chemistry is different. I've had some of them dissolve after two weeks too."

Walter set down the nine mm and six boxes of bullets, "This should do it."

Kristie slid the clip out, and started to load it, "I really want this bitch dead."

Walter had turned back to the project he was working on, "Because of Casey?"

"Because she's cruel," Kristie replied, and slid the magazine in. She started to load the second clip.

"Because she's getting a piece of Stephen?" Walter asked quietly.

Kristie's hands stopped, "I didn't say that."

"No," Walter said slowly, "But you didn't have to either."

"It's part of the job Walter, I can't get my panties all in a bunch over that," Kristie started, "I mean, he has to live with it when it's me with a target."

"But it's never been him, since you came here," Walter reminded her.

Kristie sighed, "Walter, I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to think about it. I just want this mission to go smoothly. No dead, chopped up cold ops with blue-green eye's."

Darren walked into munitions at that moment, having overheard the very last thing Kristie said, "Nice visual there Kristie."

Kristie turned around and looked at him, "Have you seen Alex yet? If you haven't, don't even talk to me!"

Darren held up both hands in self defense, "Saw her, took care of her. I got your message loud and clear last week. Who is getting chopped up?"

"Casey got done up real good by this bitch we're going after," Kristie told him, "Now they're sending Stephen."

"Damn! But Stephen isn't as careless as Casey," Darren reminded her, "Sounds like you're going too."

"Oh yeah," Kristie said, "I've been training the dogs that we're going to replace hers with. So how is Alex?"

"Looks like someone ran her over with a truck," Darren said, "Sore, frustrated. But she's doing ok. She's starting to get bored. I keep thinking Ryan worked over her because of me."

Kristie drew in a deep breath, looking for something to say.

"And I'm obviously not the only one who's thought of that," Darren added.

"I think Ryan finally snapped," Kristie told him, "You know how Alex is. She can drive a saint to sin. But I'd have done the same thing she did. The one mistake she made was falling asleep on the way back, on the plane. But I'd have also probably made that mistake too."

Kristie stepped around him, "I gotta go boys. I gotta go get my dogs ready."

Darren and Walter watched Kristie leave.

"Alex gets in more shit that anyone else I know," Walter sighed, "That the inventory?"

"Yeah," Darren said, "I added a few things the profilers didn't have. Nothing huge. A few more charges. I think the profile is a little to . . . theoretical . . . you know? She misses the human element."

"Met her yet?" Walter asked him.

"Not yet," Darren said, "She's new, new to us at least. She was at Section 6 before apparently."

Walter nodded, "I here she's a real dish."

Darren shrugged, "Most of the women here are - at least, the cold ops are - which is who I see the most of."

"Then there's that little DRV thing that keeps coming around," Walter pointed out.

Darren groaned, "Please, don't remind me. I've told her time and time again. I've been very direct. We're not compatible. Hell, she made that very clear to me at one point even!"

"Kinda makes you wonder what she got into this place for," Walter offered, "What did she tell you?"

"Computer related crime," Darren said, "got caught tapping into the DEA mainframe."

"Hm, I was thinking stalking, or something like that," Walter said dryly, "When was the last time you saw her?"

"When she was waiting for me in the hall, when I got back from Cairo," Darren told him, "About a month ago."

"I've seen walk across the central floor here, and look in planning to see if you are there," Walter told him, "During the last week."

Darren groaned, "She'll go away eventually."

Walter shook his head, "That one is gonna be a problem for a while, you wait and see."

*****

Nikita all but staggered into Michael's office. She was exhausted. The missions were almost going back to back. But today - when she and her team arrived back, she found that the board was only half as full as it had been before. By some miracle - the terrorist business had slowed down a bit. The question was, for how long.

"I just wanted to see if you were really in?" Nikita said, yawning, leaning against the doorframe, "I am going home and sleeping for twelve hours."

Michael's eyes seemed to glow a luminous green, "I should be home in about six hours."

Nikita barely nodded, "Haven't seen Alex in a few days . . . is she still here? Or did she get sent home?"

"She's at her apartment," Michael replied, "I'll bring you up to date when I get home. Sleep well."

Nikita nodded, and started to leave.

"Wait," Michael said, his voice soft, gentle.

Nikita turned back around. Michael was right there. His lips brushed hers once, then twice - soft caresses really - and oh so temping.

"Six hours?" Nikita asked.

"Yes," he replied, his voice held an undertone of lust, longing . . . promises of things to come later this evening.

Nikita smiled, "I'll be waiting."

She turned on her heel, and strolled out of his office.

*****

Alexandra had dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Michael had called her, telling her he was on his way over. Did she need anything from the grocery store?

Alexandra told him she was out of orange juice. But she knew grocery shopping was the real reason he called. His message - though unsaid - was very clear. He didn't want to arrive at her door and find her clad in panties and a tank top.

Things had been rather awkward sometimes between them since the Bangkok mission. Some things, should never happen.

So she'd put on a heavier T-shirt, and sweat pant style shorts. Certainly dressed enough to make both of them comfortable.

He arrived twenty minutes later, with a gallon of orange juice, and a disk in hand.

She watched as he pulled his coat off, little sprinkles of snow flakes on it. He hung it up on the coat rack by her door. Then he proceeded to make two cups of tea.

So this was going to be longer than a 5 minute visit . . . she thought.

She sat down on her sofa, content to let Michael make his own way around her small Kitchen. A few moments later, he was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, his cup of tea in hand.

"Operations was extremely happy with your performance on the Amsterdam mission," Michael told her.

Alexandra sighed, "I'd do cartwheels if I gave a rats ass and I could, but I don't, and I can't."

Michael sighed, "He's promoted you to level 4, against Madeline's recommendation."

Alexandra almost choked on the tea she just swallowed. Michael could have told her that Section was setting them all free, and she would not have been any more surprised.

"What?!" Alexandra gasped, "How? Why?"

"Because you can do the job, and we're running at 80 capacity right now," Michael told her, "This is a good opportunity."

"I'm not even close to ready."

"Do you think Darren is?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra took a deep breath, "He's . . . stronger than me. It didn't used to be that way, but . . ."

"It's not an offer Rouge, it's an order. I've brought over a disk for you to study. It's strategy lessons. He wants you leading a team when you return to active status. You have 7 weeks," Michael told her.

Alexandra sighed, "How am I ever going to command the respect of a team - after what just happened to me?"

"Do you remember the conversation we had, regarding your pysch evaluations and performance reviews?" Michael asked her.

"Vividly," Alexandra said, "You told me if I didn't figure it out, you'd make the proper arrangements."

"What have you figured out?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra took a deep breath, "When I was . . . a bit more  . . . rebellious - a little more outspoken - and didn't repress what I thought - my performance was better. They didn't like my attitude, they did like the end result. Then when I conform - the perception is that I've broken down a little - or that I'm starting to fall apart."

Michael took another sip of the tea, "Nikita always had her own way of doing things. Generally it was the exact opposite of what Madeline and Operations thought she should do. However - they also came to recognize the value in the perceived differences - even if the mission succeeds."

Alexandra sighed, "Go on."

"You can be outspoken. You can have an opinion. Pick your battles carefully. You insult to often, and you're a discipline problem. To little, and your team won't trust you. If you find the right balance - you earn the respect of your team, and you keep your position. But simply standing up for what you believe in won't be enough to hold a team. You can't be their best friend and champion. They have to fear you - just a little."

Alexandra shook her head, sipping her tea, "Michael, I am not ready for this."

"You don't have the luxury of waiting any longer," Michael told her, "If Madeline win's, your cancelled."

***

"Everyone looks as tired as I feel," Darren sighed, dropping down into his seat. The target was secured in the back of the plane. They'd even managed to pick up a secondary target. The facility had been taken out, no chance of anything left to be used again. A successful mission - with no problems. Darren was very relieved.

Tony looked over at him, "Woo - hoo, a whole whopping 36 hours off! It was barely enough time to wash the 7 pairs of underwear and 7 t-shirts I wear under my mission gear. We haven't had time to wear anything else. It was barely enough time to go out and get a real Italian dinner and a decent bottle of wine. It was not enough time for Kim to make sure all her plants were recovering from neglect."

Darren sighed deeply, "You figure out a way to make the terrorist slow down, you let me know."

"I say we just say fuck it, and blow the bastards off the planet. At this point, I'd agree to it," Tony sighed, "Even the mob gives their guys a day off."

Kim was in the seat next to Tony, fast asleep. Darren looked around the plane. Most of his team was fast asleep.

"I keep thinking about Alex," Darren said, and then yawned, looking back at Tony.

Tony had to struggle to open his eye's, "Tough cookie, that one."

Darren grinned, "Ok, nap time for all cold ops."

"Has to be," Tony mumbled, "God big plans for the next time I have time to leave the office . . ."

Darren let his head fall back against the seat, and closed his eyes.

It was dark. The moon was out, and he could see small furtive movements. He knew it was his team. The problem was, if he could see them, so could someone else. But according to Section's intel, the only security was at the gate. They didn't post guards outside. If they could get through the gate, they had the facility.

He gave the order for Kim to circumvent the alarm while they cut the fence. Tony started to cut. The fence was peeled back. Operatives started to go through. Just as Darren went through, Kim warned them that the alarm bypass was about to go down. A moment later, gunfire sounded. But it wasn't in front of them, it was behind them.

Some of his operative started to go down, Darren turned, and saw a team of hostiles coming up on them from behind. Someone shouted that there were hostiles coming at them from the plant too. He called to Kim for egress points. But she didn't answer. A moment later, there was a huge explosion, fifty yards back - it was the van. He knew Kim was gone. Darren heard Tony howl in rage, and when he turned towards his friend, he saw his body suddenly jerk and dance in the air, bullets ripping into him. Darren tried to track where they were coming from, but he couldn't tell. Operatives were going down everywhere . . .

Then, suddenly, it was light again, and he was on the plane. Darren blinked. Tony wasn't dead. Kim wasn't dead. They were both staring at him.

"What the hell were you dreaming?" Tony asked him.

Darren sat up, and rubbed his eye's, "You don't want to know, I don't want to remember."

Darren grabbed for the water bottle that he'd tucked into the storage pocket on the seat in front of him. He drank half of it down.

"Nightmare?" Kim asked gently.

Darren nodded, "Yes. That pretty much sums it up."

He looked at his watch. They should be landing in half an hour. He took a deep steadying breath. Kim and Tony watched him, though they kept their thoughts to themselves.

***

Kristie watched, a bit nervously, while the van from Section One pulled up. They had 6 minutes to switch the dogs. As soon as Birkhoff assured her the video loop was running, she tranque'd the Rottweillers that the target owned. All six of them went down very quickly. So quickly in fact, that Kristie was a little worried. She started to check for pulses when the van was pulling up.

"What?" The section trainer asked, "Stuff works quick, huh?"

"Very," Kristie said, taking a deep steadying breath, "We've got 5 minutes left."

He nodded, rolling out something like a gurney. The dogs were over 100 pounds each, so each one was rolled onto the gurney, and loaded into the van, into separate cages. Then, the six dogs that Kristie trained, were released.

The Section van took off, and Kristie started back towards the main security gate, six chocolate brown rottweilers pacing her, happy to be out of their cages.

She'd been here for 3 days. She knew Stephen had been working on the target for two weeks now. She'd become very very careful about who she let into her immediate circle of friends. She'd carefully checked on Stephen's background, as well as Kristie's. She'd found exactly what Section wanted her to find. Stephen was into money laundering - but the world thought he was a commodities broker. Hence, how he laundered money.

As Kristie came up on the house, her dogs trotting along side her, she saw the shiny black sports car in the driveway. It hadn't been there this morning, when she'd left for her daily training activities with the dogs, on the far side of Ms. Charlois's property.

Kristie reached up and scratched just behind her ear, activating her comm unit, "Birkhoff, Stephen's car is in the driveway. How long has he been here?"

"Two hours," Birkhoff told her.

"Great, thanks for telling me," Kristie snapped, "Leave me on. I want to be able to hear what's going on, since I'm on point - remember?!"

"We've been monitoring," Birkhoff snapped back at her, "Stephen has all of the bugs in place - except for the bedroom."

"Gee, good to know I didn't miss the important stuff," Kristie snapped back.

She reached the Kennel area, but didn't lock up the dogs. She knew the other guards were nervous around the dogs.  Not knowing that the dogs had been switched, the level of nerves was still high as she and the dogs passed a group of the guards on the way back to the house.  They shuffled and sidestepped, putting on a poor false bravado, trying to cover their nerves with loud comments directed at Kristie.

"When you get tired of playing with those overgrown poodles, I got something that you can play with that doesn't bite baby," one of the guards bellowed letting his hand drift to caress his crotch.

"Yeah, from the way those tight pants lay flat against your crotch, I'd hazard a guess that it's bark would be worse than any bite that it could deal out," Kristie slapped one thigh calling the dogs back to attention and continued along the path to the house.

"Bitch," the guard growled as low laughter rumbled from the other men.

"And damn proud of it," Kristie shot back over her shoulder.  Watching the dogs take these guys out would be like an E ticket ride at Disney World.

Stephen felt a little out of sorts. His valentine work over the last 8 years had been confined to small one night assignments - and training of course. He caught a reflection of himself in the mirror, seeing himself the way the target did. Tall, handsome - with that good old American boy charm. It was that look that confined him to Valentine work for years - until Michael recognized his potential. Of course - at one point, Stephen was convinced that Michael hadn't brought him into the world of 'cold op' because he had potential - but because he wanted to destroy Stephen.

But that was all in the past. They'd both been wrong about so many things . . . but how did one know the truth in Section?

Stephen turned the charm on full force as he made the party rounds with the target on his arm. She was a beautiful woman, but cold and calculating. Stephen had figured that out very quickly. His actions were mechanical, but she would never know that. Stephen knew she felt real desire for him, but there was no emotion behind it. It was pure lust.

The party had been going for hours. Guests were slowly starting to leave. Stephen had heard multiple status reports all evening. Section had a very tight hold on the estate. They weren't taking any chances. If she wasn't going to talk for him, a secondary team would move in to work on her. That of course, was a last choice. If she disappeared - her boyfriend would get suspicious. That could and would throw a lot of Section's plans way off track.

While the target said goodnight to one couple, Stephen's eyes traveled around the room. He was always watching. It was second nature.

His eyes settled on a young woman - someone he'd judged as an innocent weeks ago. A relative of someone who knew the target. She attended classes near by. She also had no idea who or what Claire Charlois was. That had been painfully obvious the day Stephen had met her.

At the moment, a rather suave snake was charming the innocent in question. She was eating it up too. She obviously believed everything he said to her. She responded as he leaned closer, his hand brushing her arm.

As Stephen watched, he couldn't help but think about some of the innocents he'd had to seduce - in order to get to someone else through them. They'd all been devastated, and a good many of them had been cancelled for security reasons rather quickly.

As Stephen watched, he wished he could tell this girl to go home, leave this place, and not come back. But he couldn't. Acceptable collateral were the words of the day.

The party dragged to an end. Finally, the last of the guests seemed to leave all at once. The target slipped her fingers into his, and started toward the stairway leading toward the sleeping chambers.  Stephen felt his heart quicken, the flood of adrenaline making it pump harder and faster.  He pulled her hand back for a moment, stopping her on the first stair.

"You go on up, I'm going to grab another bottle of wine for us," Stephen brought the fingers in his grasp to his lips and brushed a quick kiss across them.

"What do you think I have servants for?  Come on, I'll ring for another bottle," she started to pull him again.

"It was such a long day, and the crowd at the party was so demanding that I dismissed the staff till early tomorrow morning.  I hope I didn't do the wrong thing," Stephen gazed up at her.  The look she returned at first was hard, but softened as she watched him.

"No, It's very out of the ordinary so I'm sure they're surprised, but I suppose a small reward now and again can't be very harmful.  I don't allow much leeway in my staff or my demands on them.  Too much slack in the rope and their performance could slip."

"I guess you're right, but I've found that a little reward every so often can foster loyalty," he smiled.

"So can a good paycheck.  For what I pay them, I should be able to ask them to lick the floor clean and hear no complaints.  Anyway, what's done is done.  I'll be upstairs, don't keep me waiting long," the last was followed with a smile that would have been at home on an executioner.

"Of course not," Stephen watched as she ascended the stairs, then turned to go to her room.  He stepped around the corner and started for the kitchen at the end of the long service hallway, and cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed. He turned back, started to take another

step, and nearly ran into Teddy Bear.

The dog looked up at him, his shiny black eye's watching him intently. He sniffed Stephen once, then his attention was back on the area around them. Ears and eyes alert.

"Kris," Stephen breathed softly, finding her a few steps behind Teddy bear, "I was going for a bottle of wine."

Kris nodded, "Be careful. It will take me about 30 seconds to get up there, and a lot can happen in 30 seconds."

Stephen nodded, and reached for a bottle of wine that sat on the rack. His gaze hardly left Kristie's face. He felt such sorrow, such loss. He hated that she was going to have to hear what he was about to do. He hated that she'd probably have to see him - catch him with someone else. It didn't matter that he was under orders, that the other woman was a target. It still felt wrong.

"I will be," he said softly, and quickly brushed a kiss across her lips. Then he turned away, and headed back towards the stairs, a bottle of wine in hand.

***

Stephen rolled Claire onto her back, pinning her body under his. He slid his hands into her hair, and brushed his lips across hers.

"Tell me about this connection you've got," He asked, shifting so his shaft pressed against her labia.

"Why do you need to know?" she asked him, "All you need to do, is clean the money trail."

She pushed him over onto his back, and pulled his hand up to the bedpost. Stephen tensed, but he allowed her to handcuff one hand.

"I can't clean up what I don't understand," Stephen told her, "What are you doing? How can I touch you if you tie me down?"

He'd said it, to let Kris know he was now becoming very defenseless.

"Do you trust me Stephen?" Claire asked, sliding her body down his, and then off the end of the bed. She started to coil a length of rope around his ankle.

"Claire," Stephen said, his voice stern, "Untie me. I can make it a lot better for you if I'm free."

She laughed, and climbed over him, sheathing him inside her. Stephen felt his stomach twist in a knot, revulsion threatening to make him ill right then and there. He felt like he was being raped. He didn't dare dwell on the fact that he literally was now.

She reached for the bedside table, and pulled out a straight razor.

"What the hell are you - AH!" Stephen yelled, as she ran the edge of the razor along his chest, just at his collarbone.

A red line instantly welled up.

She laughed hysterically, and started to rock back and forth on him, running her hand along his chest, smearing the blood. She ran the blade across him again, this time a little farther over.

"Fucking Psychotic bitch!" Stephen yelled as he felt the sting of the blade separating his flesh.

He heard orders being issued in his ear - through is comm unit. He heard Kristie yelling that she was at the stairs now. He heard the bark of one of the dogs as the blade sank into his flesh again.

He looked down where she'd been cutting him, and felt fear rise up in his stomach, seeing his blood flowing freely. There was so much of it - it didn't seem possible - the cuts couldn't have been that deep - but the razor was so sharp . . .

The door burst open. Stephen saw a dark blur leap at them, and a second later Claire was slamming into the far wall, Teddy Bear dragging her along by her arm. She shrieked hysterically, as Teddy bear pinned her down.

"She's got a straight razor!" Stephen yelled to Kris, "Get it from her or she'll cut the dog!"

Kristie was already moving in on Claire. She kicked the blade out of the woman's hand, and ordered Teddy bear to pin her. She gave the order for two more dogs to move in and pin her as well.

Kristie was on automatic pilot. All the blood made her stomach turn. She'd seen worse, but she hadn't been in love with the man who'd been bleeding in the past. She immediately set about freeing him, cutting the ropes at his ankles first, then releasing his hands from the handcuffs.

A moment later, a few more members of the team were piling into the room.

"Call in the interrogation team," Stephen ordered, yanking on the slacks he'd discarded a little while ago, "We'll interrogate her here, then make it look like someone got even with her. If she disappears, the pipeline will shut down, and we've lost our endgame."

Kristie stood over her dogs, watching them effortlessly keep the woman pinned, while she started to weaken.

The other three dogs continued to pace back and forth, until Kristie signaled for them to sit. They did instantly, but their eyes moved from her to the woman the other three dogs had pinned. Kristie took a deep breath, and watched silently as Stephen allowed one of the other operatives to start applying bandage's to his chest. The worst was over. But she couldn't help but look at the bed, and feel her heart twist in her chest. A few moments more, and it might have been too late . . .

***

It has been two weeks. Alexandra was still a bit sore. Her ribs still hurt if she moved the wrong way. She walked three miles, every day. Running was too much, the constant jarring made her ribs ache. Marc removed the stitches in her stomach, and on her cheek, and started the first part of plastic surgery to remove the scar lines. She walked out, with new bandages, an hour later. Marc walked with her. He had other business at comm, it was on the way.

When they reached the central floor, Alexandra immediately saw Darren. A blonde woman stood in front of him. She was perhaps five foot 8, her figure voluptuous. She was dressed in black. Black Skirt, black sweater. Her hair had been twisted up into some kind of roll.

Alexandra watched for a moment, seeing the woman lean in close to Darren, as they went over something on one of the computer screens.

"Who," Alexandra asked Marc, "Is that? I have not seen her, and I've seen most of the recruits."

"New profiler," Marc told her, "Works under Madeline of course. I just got her medical records about two weeks ago."

Alexandra watched Darren and the blonde, feeling a twinge of jealousy, especially when Darren laughed at something she said. She leaned in closer, as if saying something risqué, her hand resting on his shoulder, then sliding down his arm. It was a caress, a blatant invitation.

"I need to drop by Michael's office," Alexandra told him, "See ya in three days Marc - thanks."

Marc nodded, and watched her go. He knew what was going on. He knew all to well about the redhead's insecurities, buried deep below a show of bravado and teasing.

***

Alexandra knocked on Michael's door, and pushed it open when she heard him call "Come in."

Alexandra stepped in, closing the door behind her. She handed Michael the disk, "I'm done. I've been bored out of my mind."

"And exercising, before you were cleared," Michael added.

Alexandra groaned, and sat down on the sofa.

"Walking, just walking," Alexandra told him, "I'm pulling my hair out Michael. There has to be something I can do here."

"Comm has adequate coverage," Michael told her, and set another disk on the end of his desk.

Alexandra picked it up, "I should have known. When do you want it back?"

"End of the week," Michael told her.

Alexandra took a deep breath, "Tell me about the new profiler, the blonde."

Michael's face remained impassive, "What do you want to know?"

Alexandra groaned, "I want to know that she's got the personality of a toilet, because I just watched her flirt with Darren, and I didn't like it."

Michael expression didn't change, "She's friendly."

Alexandra managed a pained smile, "You're hysterical Michael. I shouldn't laugh right now, remember?"

Michael watched her for a few moments.

Alexandra watched him back, waiting for him to respond, say something.

"You're analyzing me again," Alexandra announced, standing up, "Find a lab rat to play with Michael. I'll see you in a week."

Alexandra walked out of his office, and started down the hall, towards Nikita's. Sure enough, the door was open, as it usually was. Nikita was had two holo screens up, comparing something. When Alexandra walked in, and closed the door, she dropped both holo screens.

"What? No Chihuahua?" Nikita asked her.

Alexandra sat down on her sofa, and tucked one foot under her other thigh, "He's at home, have you met the new profiler?"

"The voluptuous blonde?" Nikita asked her, "The one who likes to flirt with Male team leaders? I've met her."

Alexandra sighed, "I see. I just saw her stroke Darren's arm."

"She almost had her hand on Michael's ass yesterday," Nikita replied, "It's bad enough that I have to tolerate a target touching him, or another cold op under orders, but it pisses me off when someone - who knows he's married to a cold op - makes a play for him."

Alexandra sighed, "Lets line her up with Operations and watch Madeline boil over."

"She's not that stupid," Nikita sighed, "Unfortunately. I'm not real happy with her profiles either. Rather . . . theoretical."

Alexandra held up another disk, "More strategy lessons from Michael. I devoured the last disk out of boredom."

"I hated those," Nikita sighed, "At least you're not taking lessons from her."

"I don't even want to think about that," Alexandra groaned, "Kita, I'm bored to death. Do you have any time to go out?"

Nikita looked at the workload in her cue. It had slowed down, a lot. She was ahead, for a change. That was a rare thing around here too.

"Maybe it's time to do some shopping therapy," Nikita told her, "How are you feeling? Up to walking around the shopping district?"

"I'm always up to do some shopping," Alexandra told her.

"I'll find Kristie, you go grab Kim. I know she's off in ten minutes. We'll meet by comm," Nikita told her.

Alexandra nodded, and headed out the door. It had been ages since she'd gone on a good shopping spree.

Nikita got Kristie on the phone, and then headed out of her office. She came upon Michael's, and stuck her head in, finding his door open.

"I'm going out with the girls tonight," Nikita told him, "I'll be home late."

"The girls?" Michael asked.

"Kristie, Kim, Alex. We're shopping," Nikita told him.

"The four of you . . . have a good time," Michael replied.

"I always do," Nikita said, already slipping out his door.

Michael wondered what had inspired this particular shopping trip. Shopping trips with the four of them usually meant that someone was upset. They'd hit a few shops, stop at an ice-cream shop, sit there for an hour, and then keep shopping. Generally, the woman upset ended up buying the most. Today, it would probably be Alexandra.

****

"Shopping?" Tony said, as Kim surrendered her chair to someone else, "So you're gonna be home late?"

"Definitely," Kim told him.

Darren looked over, "Did I hear - Alex! I didn't even see you come in."

Alexandra nodded, "I know."

Tony sent Darren a sympathetic look.

"Remember, I had my plastics appointment today with Marc," Alexandra told him.

"Oh yeah," Darren said, "So uh . . . who's idea was it to go shopping?"

"Nikita's," Alexandra told him, "I have no idea how late we'll be out either."

Darren nodded, glancing at from Kim to Alexandra.

"OK, I'll come right out and ask, which one of us fucked up?"

Kim and Alexandra looked at each other, their expressions curious.

"What makes you say someone fucked up?" Kim asked him.

"Because when the four of you shop, one of you is angry. Guys drink, the four of you shop," Tony pointed out.

Kristie walked up on the group then.

"We drink when we're mad," Kristie announced, "I'm armed with my visa. Where is Nikita?"

"On her way," Alexandra answered, "Are we drinking tonight too?"

"I hope so," Kristie said, looking around, and then she said softly, "The new profiler, Eva - I walk into Stephens office, and she's bent over, flashing him some of that cleavage. Thought her top might bust open."

Both Darren and Tony looked at each other, relief in their eye's. Stephen was in trouble.

Nikita walked up on the group, "Ladies? Are we ready?"

The four of them started towards the door. Tony sighed in relief, "I thought for sure you were in the hot seat again."

Darren sighed, "How come you're never in trouble?"

"Well, this time it's because miss Scandinavian profiler with the big cha-cha's isn't interested in anything but men who lead teams. But usually it's because I don't screw up."

Darren laughed, "She's friendly is all. That's a cultural trait. Kinda like Italians and that double kiss thing."

"Tell that to Kristie," Tony replied.

***

Stephen called Michael on the phone. It rang twice, Michael grabbed it up.

"Michael," he said.

"Why is my girlfriend shopping with your wife? Who's in trouble? Me, or you?"

"Must be you," Michael told him, "I haven't done anything lately."

"But Nikita called Kristie," Stephen told him.

"Could be Darren's the one in trouble," Michael told him.

"Could be . . . Could be that since the ladies are out shopping, the four of us should be going down to Tortelli's for some chow."

Michael glanced at his watch, "Give me an hour."

****

"I thought Nikita started this shopping trip," Stephen pointed out.

"Alex was asking questions about the new profiler, Eva," Michael announced, and he looked at Darren, "Alex swears she stroked your arm."

"She's touchy," Darren replied, "So am I. It's not like I bent her over a chair or something. Kristie walked up and told us how Eva bent over Stephens desk and flashed him some cleavage."

All eye's turned to Stephen. Stephen blinked, "She did?"

"Kristie thinks she did," Darren told him.

"So both Kristie and Alex are pissed," Tony reasoned, "God help you both."

Stephen sighed, "Oh man . . . I knew things had gone well for too long."

The waiter came by with another bottle of wine. Michael picked it up, and refilled everyone's glass.

"Alex has been promoted," Michael announced, "Level 4. She leads her own team when she's back on active status."

"Great," Stephen said, "She's good, she'll do well."

Darren sat back, "Ah joy - now she'll understand why I review the profiles over and over."

"Because you're Mexican and therefore overly emotional?" Tony stabbed at his friend.

"Because I'd rather not see 6 more people killed," Darren snapped at him, "Don't talk to me about emotional! I listened to you obsess about Kim for two months."

"Michael, what was she like before Section?" Tony asked.

Silence held the air for a moment. It came to close to a touchy subject among the four of them. At one point or another Michael had slept with all four of the women in question. Granted, two of them had been targets at the time, he was under orders on a mission for the third. But it was a taboo subject.

Michael sipped his wine, "When I first saw Kim, she was walking into this club. We staged a scene, so I could move in on her. One of our operatives started to slap around his girlfriend - another operative. She stepped in, broke his arm. When she walked into the club, the bar tender started to mix her drink for her. It was her regular haunt. She was . . . a little more aggressive than she is now. Very cocky. Definatly in control of her life. She was a little more confident in her physical appeal  - but the day I met her, she'd almost mopped the floor with one of our cold ops too. She'd stumbled across data we needed. I was sent to get it from her. Her profile suggested she wasn't likely to give it over to the authorities out of self preservation. Not really all that different that she is now.  Now, she is just a little . . . tempered."

"She resents the hell out of that cane," Stephen commented.

Tony nodded, "I know. Believe me, I know."

*******

It was late. Michael heard the key in the lock, and he knew it was Nikita. The door flew back, and Nikita walked through, her arms full of packages. Michael swallowed hard.

"Kita," Michael began, seeing her walk past him into the bedroom, "Do we have something to talk about?"

Nikita managed a tight smile, "I found this great dress."

Michael thought, judging from all the packages, that she must have found ten great dresses.

"Just one?" Michael asked.

He heard her laugh. He walked into the bedroom. She'd already peeled her boots off. She started to open up a box of shoes, and set them on the shoe rack. Then she pulled out another box of shoes.

He was really in trouble.

"Nikita," Michael began, "Is there something wrong?"

She glanced over at him, "Now what could possibly be wrong Michael?"

Michael drew in a deep breath. Oh he was in lots of trouble.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you. You bought a lot. You do that when you're mad. Last time, you bought 100 pounds wax to make candles with."

Nikita didn't turn to look at him.

"I looked for a shirt for you, one that said, "Hands off Eva, but I couldn't find one, guess they're all sold out."

Michael sighed, "What did Eva do?"

Nikita stopped now, and turned to look at him, "She damn hear had her hands on your ass Michael!"

Michael drew in a deep breath, "When we were discussing the profile?"

"Is that the excuse she uses? She was stroking Darren's arm right in the middle of Section, and she was bent over Stephens desk, flashing cleavage."

"Has it occurred to you that this is exactly what Madeline wants?" Michael asked her, "To see us fight?"

"Us? Because Alex is pissed, and so is Kristie," Nikita told him, "Just keep Eva at least an arms length away, OK?"

Nikita turned away, to hang up another dress. Michael stood there, at a loss of how to reach her. He didn't know if he should seduce her, try to talk it out, or let her steam for a while. Seducing her would be pleasurable for them both, but he also knew that they both tended towards that direction when they wanted to end a fight, but were afraid to address an issue. Talking it out right away wasn't always a good option, neither one of them saw reason when they were really angry or upset. But letting it go could allow the problem to fester into something far worse.

"Kita," Michael said softly, letting his French accent come out a little more, while he reached for her, sliding his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, "You are my one and only true love. Eva does not interest me."

Nikita sighed, relaxing back into him, "Well, it sure looks like anything remotely male interests her."

"I'll keep a little more distance between us," Michael offered, "Come downstairs with me? I want you to pose for me."

Nikita felt her temper melt away, just being in his arms, hearing him speak softly in her ear. She felt his fingers sliding into hers, and she couldn't help but let him draw her out of their bedroom, and downstairs into the basement.

He paused, to switch on the light, and then drew her into the room. On one side, was the area she'd set up for herself to make her candles. There were several shelves that Michael had put up for her to hold supplies, some to just hold candles that she'd made. Several weeks ago she'd been angry at something, brought home 100 pounds of wax and made an enormous amount of candles.

On the other side of the room, Michael had several canvases sitting propped against walls, and on various stands. There were lamps everywhere.

But sometime tonight, he'd set up the futon that she'd had in her apartment, covered in red satin, set up the small night stands around it, a chest at the head of the bed. Candles had been set on the night stands, and on the chest. Two red satin encased pillows sat on the bed.

Nikita stared at this in awe. It was a lovers bed - arranged to bring forth thoughts, memories and fantasies of passion and intimacy.

She felt the zipper at the back of her neck slowly being drawn down, Michael's breath warm on the back of her neck. The dress became slack as the zipper reached down past her waist, and Michael gently eased it off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet a moment later. His hands came to rest on the curve of her hips, hooking her panties with his thumbs, and drawing them down. They joined her dress on the floor.

Then he guided her onto the bed, arranging her so her legs were just barely parted, but not obscenely so. One arm rested across her stomach, the other over her head, her hair splayed out on the pillow. Then he lit all of the candles, and walked back over, turning off all the lights except the one aimed at his canvas. She was cast in the soft light of the candles only, making the whole scene that much more raw and sensual.

Nikita felt raw liquid heat rushing through her veins, just watching him move, his gate the sensual grace of a jungle cat. His eye's burned a luminous green, watching her hungrily, possessively, as he applied the brush to the canvas. Nikita could almost feel each stroke he made with his brush on the canvas as if he were stroking her skin instead . . .

****

The last of she pleasure induced shudders that wracked Stephen's body subsided. Kristie gently lowered her body to rest on his, and before she rested her head on his chest, she paused to press little kisses across his chest, moving from left to right over the area that Claire Charlois had started to carve into him. Now, there were just faint red lines, still healing, but the cuts were closed over with viable skin - not just angry scabs.

Kristie shuddered then, thinking about the scene she'd witnessed when she busted into the room. There was blood everywhere it seemed. Granted, the cuts hadn't been life threatening, but against the white sheets, and because of the situation, it had looked horrific.

She felt Stephen's hands in her hair. There was a soft, plaintive sigh that came from the floor - beside the bed. Kristie smiled. Teddy bear was light sleeper. He'd sleep on Kristie's bed if she was alone. If Stephen was there, the dog would sleep on the floor, next to the bed.

Kristie turned just slightly, dropping her hand off the side of the bed, and finding the dogs back, scratched him, just a little.

"We're not gonna become like Alex and Darren, sharing our bed with a dog, are we?"

Kristie laughed, "I'm afraid Teddy Bear is not quite the social creature that Pepe is - and he's a little too big to be snuggling with both of us."

Stephen stroked his hands down her back, "You did pretty damn good Kris. Operations was impressed."

Kristie laughed again, "Amazing, considering the parties involved!"

Stephen only smiled, and continued to stroke her back. The last month in Section had been hard on all of them. The weeks ahead didn't promise to be much better. But somehow, they always managed to survive to make it work.

He felt and heard Kristie's breathing change. Gently, quietly, she slipped into that void known as sleep. When she dreamed, she dreamed of the life she'd left behind, but when she woke, she wouldn't dwell on what she couldn't have. She accepted what she had, and got on with living life, on the best terms she could. It was the sleep of the just. Kristie had no illusions about what they did here. She hadn't come to them to repent for some crime.

Stephen's dreams were not always so trouble free. He thought back to the innocent woman he'd watched at the party a week ago. How many like her had Stephen hurt - for the greater good as Section dictated it? Then he thought about the woman who now slept on his chest. They weren't so different. Kristie had more experience in life - the version of life that Section gave to them. Yet she was very much an innocent in some sense.

She belonged here, and she didn't. She was a great operative, they needed great operatives. But lately, Stephen couldn't help but remember that she had been a target once - acceptable collateral.

Because she'd been in the wrong place at the right time, her life had been ruined.

But at the same time - his had been enriched.

It was a twisted thing. Heaven and hell at the same time.

Kristie stirred, shifting slightly on his chest, her fingers flexing.

"Whisky . . ." she murmured.

Stephen felt his heart break a little. Whisky had been the name of one of her dogs. The dogs she'd been forced to leave behind when Section had used her. Perhaps working with the dogs at Section had pulled Kristie's memory back to memories of the dogs she missed so much back in North Carolina.

Teddy bear chose that moment to stand up, and rest his head on the side of the bed, looking mournfully at Kristie. The dog sniffed for a moment, watching them carefully. Stephen suspected he was assessing the well being of his new mistress.

He reached out and scratched the dogs head. Teddy bear looked at Stephen, then back at Kristie for a moment. Then he laid down, satisfied that things were ok for the moment.

But it was just a moment. After-all, this was Section One.