This story is set as a prelude to the first episode of Series One of LFN.

ONE

"I guess the 'Dublin Twilight' roses must be out by now?" he asked, deep voice echoing down the telephone line.

"Yes they're beautiful, as always. You should come out and see for yourself," she replied coolly.

"I'd love to, but, ... well, things are a little unsettled here at the moment."

"Aren't you the one who told me that no-one is indispensable and what was the other, oh yes, there will never be a good time to leave."

"Touché. I'll try, maybe next week."

"I'll look forward to it. Now that we have the obligatory 'how are the roses' chat done with, shall we get down to the purpose of your call.'

"Of course. Perhaps you could start by explaining your sudden desire to swell the ranks of those in your employ?"

"There's nothing to explain. I'm just getting in some people to help around the place. It's too big for me to look after by myself. I told you that when you put me here."

"Adrian!"

"Yes George?"

"Whatever you are up to - STOP."

"I'm not up to anything. I'm retired now, remember."

"I won't ask you again."

"Then don't continue to put me in a situation where you might have to."

A sigh then "Adrian, disengage, now, let me take care of it."

"All evidence to the contrary. Those two are running the Section like some gothic horror version of the Cleavers. Pun intended, by the way."

A stifled laugh. "I'll be sure to include that in my next update to Oversight, if you'll tell me which one's June."

"I'm sure you'll work it out, if you can take time out from this asinine assignment you've committed the Beaver to. Do you have any idea what you are doing, what you are asking him to do? And then of course we have the dilemma of how you could do this to your ..."

"Enough. For better or worse the sequence is in play. Let it go. Don't make me regret my decisions regarding your 'retirement'."

"Is that a threat, George?"

"No." A pause. "Not yet."

"I see. Let me know when it is."

"You'll be the first to know."

"Thank you. I'll see you next week."

"I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"We won't be having this discussion again."

"That's entirely up to you. Goodbye George."

**************************************

TWO

Relax. He tried it again, his memory working to recall the precise inflection Madeline had used. Re-lax? Rel-ax?

"The last few months have been ... difficult for you, Michael. I'd like you to take some downtime. Time for yourself, to relax."

"Relax?"

"Yes, relax. Within current mission parameters, of course."

"I am curious that you would regard my current situation as one where opportunities for 'relaxing' will arise, Madeline."

"We do what we have to, Michael. I'm sure you'll find a way to make the most of this opportunity."

"Yes, of course."

Coming from Madeline the word seemed even more foreign. Relax. It lingered clumsily on his lips. Se détendre, je me détends, je suis détendu. No, in any language, not relaxed. Anything but. Try instead tense, afraid, guilty. Better words, rolled more easily off the tongue, more germane. He sighed, again.

"How long?"

"Twelve weeks would seem appropriate."

"Three months?"

"Yes, Michael, three months, twelve weeks, eighty four days, whichever unit of time you prefer. As of 19:00 hrs today you are off the active mission roster."

"With the exception of current ..."

"... mission parameters. I think we've established that point."

Michael closed his eyes, leaning his head against the armrest of the lounge as he stretched out. He wished he could shut down all his senses with the same ease.

"Why now?"

"I thought it would have been obvious."

"You're response to the 'obvious' in the past would tend to suggest this is unusual."

"It's an unusual situation."

"Yes, Madeline, I'm glad you concede that fact."

"I'm not conceding anything. It's merely an observation.

Something was going on and they wanted him out of the way while it was happening. Of that much he was certain. The idea of Madeline showing compassion towards him had him vacillating between incredulity and queasiness.

"I expect to receive your report on the Bejing mission by midday. You can spend the afternoon tidying-up whatever loose ends you have, I'd be grateful if you could find time to finalise the Jenkins Review. Send any other work in progress to me. I'll reassign the remaining items on your current work schedule."

"To whom?"

"That's not your concern. You will check in with me every day, Birkoff has reconfigured your cell phone and laptop security codes for remote access through my sector."

"Your sector? I won't be using primary access?"

"No. An L1 Sentinel Link has been set up on your remote system, it will provide you with incoming access to my server."

"Meaning what?"

"You will report only to me and I will supervise your access to information while you are on downtime."

"I see."

"I hope you do, Michael."

"Surveillance?"

"We'll be maintaining an alpha three pattern. You'll be notified if I consider there is a need to upgrade."

"Of course."

He could find out, he had certain resources he could draw on. Or he could sit back and stay out of it, as they intended. There was more than enough to occupy his mind, just dealing with the situation at hand. He felt a deep sigh escape his lips.

" Is that all?"

"Not quite. Report to medical before you leave, I've ordered a complete physical and your clock needs to be updated with the new cycle frequencies I've assigned you."

"New frequencies? Why?"

"Research. Birkoff has secured a new DOD link that may allow for a faster download and retrieval. We'll be using your current situation as an opportunity to undertake a field trial."

"So I am to be ... the laboratory rat."

"Don't be melodramatic, Michael. Make sure you allocate at least two hours."

"There's no need to waste time in Medical. If you give me the frequencies, I can do it myself."

"No. They need to remove the unit to make the correct adjustments. I've instructed them to sedate you."

"That won't be necessary."

"Maybe not from your perspective. Most of the Medical staff are terrified of you. It improves their efficiency levels if you're relaxed while they're working."

"It seems excessive."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you gave that technician a concussion during your last visit. Anyway, it's not negotiable. You'll do as instructed. I'll be there to make sure."

He took a bite of the apple he had been unconsciously squeezing in his hand. An apple for his teacher, just as hard, just as inflexible. But just as juicy once you broke it open. He had already found a way to hack into Madeline's system. It had almost been too easy. As far as he could tell he hadn't been detected. Better to wait a bit, some gentle probing, see if they pick it up before he started looking for the information he needed. Too many years living in the shadow of suspicion had taught him that nothing should be easy. But then, sometimes it was.

"A point of clarification, if I may?"

"Of course"

"This is ... downtime. A holiday, so to speak."

"So to speak, within current ...."

"... mission parameters."

"Yes. ... Why the smile? You find this amusing?"

"No, just ... intriguing."

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke him from his reverie.

"Michael, I'm home."

"I'm in here Elena" he called out.

A hand rubbed soft fingers against his cheek and he grabbed it, holding the palm to his lips, pressing softly. He swung around and sat up, guiding her down next to him.

"Did you enjoy the play?" he asked affectionately, massaging her neck.

"Yes, very much. Kate and Sarah send their love. Did you find something to eat for lunch? There wasn't much here."

"I went to the market and picked us up some groceries." He kissed her hair and ran his fingers over her stomach, slowly undoing the buttons of her shirt. As his fingers gently kneaded the taut skin he felt a sharp kick.

"It's been like that all day" she murmured, placing her hand over his and guiding it over the huge swell of her stomach. He felt another kick, and then another. "I think our baby wants out" she laughed.

Michael pressed lips against her temple, fingers splayed across her stomach. Stay inside little one, he thought, where you are safe from me, and them. He pulled her hair back, brushing his lips against her ear.

"Come upstairs Elle, I'll give your back a rub, then you can sleep while I get some more painting done."

"That sounds good" she sighed, "I am tired." As though he had reminded her, she yawned as Michael helped her stand up. He grabbed her hand and led her towards the bedroom.

"I like having you home Michael" she mumbled as they climbed the stairs, slowly.

"Yes" he sighed, a sad smile on his face. "I'm sorry I have not be here for you as I should."

He led her into the bedroom and held her hand as she awkwardly lowered herself to sit on the bed. Pulling off her shoes he rubbed her swollen feet and ankles, then helped her out of her clothes. He pulled his shirt off and leant forward to kiss her belly, running a finger around the swell and the soft curves of her breasts.

Rearranging the pillows, he sat on the bed with his legs splayed, pulling her towards him and bunching the pillows around her. He moistened his fingers with the massage oil they kept by the bed. He heard her sigh contentedly as his fingers worked the tired muscles in her back and shoulders.

"Better?" he whispered in her ear.

"Mmmmm, relaxing" she answered.

*********************

THREE

"I've just been on the phone to George. Again! He wants a real time link to monitor Michael's daily reports."

"Did you agree?" Madeline asked, looking up from her screen.

"I told him you'd send the reports to date and I'd get Birkoff to look at the security implications of changing the current transmission protocol."

"He'll know you're stalling."

"Of course. But he also knows I'm aware he can tap into any of our secure channels if he chooses to. Asking 'permission' is merely a formality."

"You think he's suspicious?"

"No, he's just probing." Operations pulled a cigarette out, hesitating a moment before lighting it. Madeline looked away with a disapproving expression.

"He's been interfering in the Vacek mission from day one. The original profile Oversight sent through has George written all over it. I'm still uneasy about why he asked specifically for Michael" she declared with just a hint of irritation.

"I thought your analysis confirmed Michael had the highest POS?"

"Yes, but only if you run the numbers in isolation. We don't operate on singularities. Having to take him out of play for these extended periods reduces our overall percentages. We're lucky there's not much on the pad this time."

"Then we'll have to work something out. As soon as he returns I want him back on full rotation."

"Up till now he's been carrying a full load in addition to the Vacek mission, we need to be cautious we're not overextending him."

"Overextend Michael!" he scoffed. "He can handle it."

"That remains to be seen."

"It's a moot point. I want Michael leading the teams and keeping our numbers up. George wants him in play and he wants Vacek, badly. As we both know, George gets what he wants, failure is not an option."

Madeline smiled. "That's at least one thing you have in common."

"Is there anything in Michael's reports that might compromise us?"

"No. He's angry, frustrated and suspicious of this setup, but so far he's sticking to the protocol. George will, no doubt, find the transcripts of our 'discussions' entertaining, if not informative. I've been thinking we might archive them and use them for interrogation training. Today he answered every question with a question of his own. Yesterday it was a terse 'yes' or 'no'. The day before he simply remained silent. When he finally deigned to respond it was a brief, and colourful, outburst of French. Although I'm not altogether familiar with the particular patois he was using, I think it's safe to assume his commentary was non-mission related. I couldn't find the phrase 'allez vous faire foutre' in my dictionary to confirm."

Operations raised his eyebrows and looked at Madeline, a smile breaking out on his face in recognition of one her, very rare, jokes. She gave him a coy look which elicited a soft snort of laughter from him.

"Michael's generally at his laconic best when he's pissed-off" he quipped.

"Yes."

"It could work to our advantage" Operations continued.

"I've already factored it in."

"Has he logged any unauthorised system probes yet?"

"No, but he will. His routine codes have been disabled so his primary access privileges are restricted. I also have Birkoff monitoring his entry pathways, any attempt to probe outside the established path to my system will trigger a shutdown procedure."

"No wonder he's a tad frustrated. Good! Now, where are we with the other issue?"

"I have a reconnaissance team in place, we should have a clearer picture by tomorrow morning."

"Can we keep George distracted with the Vacek profile alone?"

"Yes, I think so. If not the secondary profile is in place to pique his interest."

"Is Michael aware of the secondary?"

"No."

"We can't risk collateral damage."

"Agreed, but briefing him on the secondary will compromise our broader objectives. I've taken precautions. Michael's been fitted with a Somnolent Unit, so we can pull him out without exposure if the need arises. The dosage has been adjusted to well beyond his tolerance levels, he won't be aware of the details of the extraction or our involvement. He'll do whatever is required to protect the daughter up until that point. What happens to the child is still a variable I'm working on."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Oversight is watching us on this, if they even suspect we're tampering with the approved profile there will be hell to pay" Operations cautioned.

Madeline smiled in response. "Everything can be considered a means to an end if it's managed correctly."

"The only end I'm looking for is Vacek out of play and Michael back in, sooner rather than later. I don't want him being in George's focus any longer than is absolutely necessary."

"So you've mentioned. Oversight has made it clear that they're willing to take time, build the correct environment to lure Vacek out. They want Michael to build trust. As long as we don't do anything to compromise that, it should go undetected. If you want to go ahead with an accelerated timeframe you have to accept the additional risks."

"This is, perhaps, the most important mission we've ever been involved in Madeline. I have a lot resting on the outcome."

Madeline merely nodded in agreement.

"I also want to ensure that if they catch the slightest whiff of failure the scent will not be around me." He tapped out a cigarette and glanced across at Madeline. "Or you" he added as an afterthought.

"Of course" she smiled serenely.

********************

FOUR

Adrian's fingers drummed impatiently against the table. Behind her bodies moved in quiet deference to her sullen mood. The shrill ring of the phone perched on the table in front of her brought a relieved smile to her face. Let it ring, she thought, better not to let him sense her anxiety. After a satisfactory length of time she picked it up.

"Yes?" she answered calmly.

"Your suspicions are actual, they have initiated the surveillance" the heavily accented voice replied.

"Your impressions?"

"They will soon know enough to create a complication. You were wise to not be underestimating them."

"Indeed."

"How to proceed?"

"I'll revise the schematics, probably judicious at this stage in any case. Have you been able to identify a potential target?"

"Your specifications were ... precise? It will take time."

"I don't need to remind you that ..."

"We don't have much of time" he interrupted. "I understand urgency, but if you are wanting the correct material then you will be patient."

"Don't lecture me." She heard the hiss of a sigh from him.

"I apologise if you think this. I am just stating facts ... as I understand."

"You already know more than you should. Keep me informed of your progress."

"Da."

She folded the phone and placed it back on the table, wondering again what Petrosian would ask in return for this favour. He would let her know, when it suited him and the time was right. For now she sat back, considering the significance of their brief conversation.

Crossing paths with the Section would make it all the more interesting. The chance to test Paul's performance to enticing to pass up. As she had told her former pupil many times, there is nothing he knows they she does not know first, no move he makes that she does not anticipate.

She could no longer rely on George to help her reign things in, he was becoming as bad as Paul. Indulging in his own petty, ego building, crusades. Myopic to the extreme.

She tried to reign in her anger as her thoughts shifted to the Vacek mission. Squandering the skills and psyche of their best operative on an ill-conceived personal vendetta. What a foolish waste! She was certain the fallout when the mission reached its endgame would be far-reaching and monumental. They underestimate Michael, another foolish mistake. She was figuring him into her plans. However, before she brought him in she needed to know if George would show his hand, his connection to Michael now irrevocable. Until then a cryptic message here and there should help to maintain the conundrum. Another distraction to keep his superiors guessing.

Restoring balance required a more calculated and methodical approach. After much consideration she had identified the wildcard, the primary threat to all she had worked so hard to build. The succubus prowling the halls of her empire. She turned to the file lying on the table and flipped it open, studying the contents again.

She shuffled through the various reports and pictures that catalogued Madeline's life, her eyes finally resting on a photo she had studied intensely over the last few months. Two pretty girls, sisters. One a teenager, maybe 14, slender, long auburn hair framing an elegant, too serious face that housed intense dark eyes. The other tall for her age, maybe six, lanky, long blonde hair streaming in the wind, a contented smile on a face that shone with sparkling blue eyes. The older girl held her hand rather formally, a doll dangled towards the ground from the other. Not a care in the world, oblivious to the horrors that lay just around the corner.

**********************

FIVE

Birkoff sat back in his chair, a deep smile of satisfaction obscured by the vigorous movement of his jaw. He stuffed another handful of chocolate in his mouth. Well deserved too, he thought. He had just beaten Sections top Op in another game of Quake. No, annihilated was more like it. He was trying to picture the look of impotence on Michael's face at being beaten, once again. Hmmm...no need to be delusional about it. Impotence? He'd settle for a momentary sense of inadequacy.

The trajectory of Michael's improvement during their daily workouts over the last month was freakish, though not unexpected. It made him remember a time long ago when he had been assigned to Michael for a brief period during his training. It had been a mystifying two months. He'd spent most of it locked in a small, windowless room, working in tandem with Michael, running sims and developing profiles. Michael would sketch an outline and then send it to him. He'd complete it and send it back. Only to have it returned within the hour, the corrections astounding, as much for their ingeniousness as the astute simplicity of the approach. He learned a lot over that short time, even though he only saw Michael three times. When he showed him to the room, again when he retrieved him, and once, just towards the end, when Michael sent back a profile with no corrections. His enigmatic instructor stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of him, a slight nod of the head and then a single word "good", before he pivoted and disappeared.

The computer beeped and Birkoff grinned at the message on the screen.

**I'll be back....**

"No shit sherlock, you're mine. I'll be waiting" Birkoff chuckled as he typed in the words.

**Waiting to die, frag bait**

"No, just waiting to whip your spy boy ass, again." Birkoff hit the send button with relish and then started the sequence to erase the link from the system.

He didn't know the location of Michael's remote site, or even what mission he was on. He only knew that Michael seemed to have plenty of free time on his hands. Must be something big to keep him out in the field for three months doing nothing much, he figured. He shook his head, resisting the urge to trace the location. What you don't know can't hurt you, he repeated to himself.

Madeline had been very vague about it all, other than the precautions she asked him to put in place to limit and monitor Michael's access into systems. She was on his case, that's for sure. It's not enough they made him eat humble pie every waking hour, he was supposed to say thank you very much and then roll over and ask politely for another shit sandwich to be rammed down his throat. Surely she wouldn't begrudge him an hour or so of entertainment each day. Then again.

They'd had him on a grueling mission schedule ever since Simone's death twelve months ago. Maybe this apparently cushy assignment was meant as some sort of token gesture to make up for that. Nah, he reconsidered, the terrible two had been given a compassion bypass, probably at birth.

Anyway, what's so wrong with challenging the poor guy to a friendly game of death and mutilation to help while away the hours. They should look on it as valuable training opportunity. He smiled and looked up to find Walter standing in front of him.

"What's up?" Birkoff chirped.

"Absolutely nothing amigo. No mission's on the pad, the beast and his mistress are ensconced in her cave, all's quiet in hell and I'm thinking we make ourselves scarce with pizza and a movie."

"Sounds good, just let me call for a relief op and we'll be on our way."

"Your place or mine?"

"Mine, your munchable stockpile sucks. I'm still feeling queasy at the thought of those tofu and artichoke burgers."

"You gotta get out more Birkoff."

"So you keep telling me."

******************

Birkoff sprawled in his favourite chair, a bowel of ice-cream balancing on his chest. Walter was sitting on cushions on the floor, leaning up against the bed. Pizza boxes and empty beer bottles dotted the wasteland between them.

Birkoff hit the pause button and turned to Walter, a frown evolving slowly on his face.

"Walter?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Something's going down."

"Yup, we're in the eye of the cyclone, that's for sure. Only questions are when the other side is gonna hit and ... who it's gonna hit."

"Can't shake the feeling that it's going to be Michael."

"Certainly seems that our wonderboy has suddenly developed a bulls-eye on his forehead."

"Seem's unfair."

"Birkoff, you've been around long enough to know that there's no entry under 'fair' in the Section dictionary."

"It still sucks."

"Big time."

"What are we going to do?"

"Finish the movie and then I'm going home to bed to dream about that cute little redhead in Medical."

"... and then?"

"Tomorrow morning we're going to start monitoring the weather reports."

"Good."

"Birkoff, I'm not getting any younger."

"Huh?"

"The movie Birkoff, can we start sequencing again?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

**********************

SIX

Michael scanned through the information he had downloaded while he and Birkoff had been engaged in todays battle to the death. He had beaten him, just. He didn't want Birkoff losing interest too quickly. He noticed a couple of mail messages that had been sent to his secure account. Probably Birkoff.

As he heard Elena coming down the hall he filed today's information with the information he had collected from hacking into Madeline's system. He stood and met her as she entered the study, pulling her into his arms. Her skin was warm and smelt faintly of roses.

"I was going to help you out of the bath, why didn't you call?" he asked.

"I'm not an invalid Michael" she smiled, "but thank you for worrying."

"I'm not worrying, I'm fussing."

"Ahhhh... I see. There's a difference?"

"Yes." He smiled and kissed her softly, running fingers through her damp hair.

"Have you finished your work? Are you ready to come to bed?

"All done" he said, taking her hand.

Once inside the bedroom Michael took his clothes off and tossed them in the clothes hamper on his way to bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later he found Elena sitting on the edge of the bed, a trail of tears down her cheeks. He sat beside her and took one of her hands in his, pressing it to his cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, wiping gently at her tears with his thumb.

"Ohhh... nothing. Just raging hormones sparking off another weeping session."

He cupped her jaw with his hand and turned her face towards him.

"Tell me, please" he urged.

"Do you find me ugly, like this, Michael? All puffed up and teary, I ..."

Michael placed his fingers against her mouth to stop her words.

"Shhhhh ..." he breathed against her lips as his fingers caressed her moist cheek. "You have never been more beautiful to me. Tell me what you need me to do to show you this Elle.'

Elena rested her head against his shoulder. She sat quietly for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Michael's arms circled her, pulling her firmly against him.

"I don't want to sound like I'm nagging, I know I've brought this up before, but it's as if you keep me locked out. I know you care for me, maybe you even love me, but just now I need to know I have you Michael. I need you to connect with me, with what's happening to us."

Michael took her hand, his thumb absently stroking her palm. With a sigh his shoulders slumped, his head hung low onto his chest, his cheek resting against her hair.

"I'm sorry" he whispered.

"No, please, don't say that. Just ... trust me, Michael. Tell me what you are really feeling."

Michael took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wavering on the brink of an emotional precipice that threatened to suck him into oblivion. He closed his eyes, focusing on controlling his breathing and the pulse throbbing in his head.

"I am afraid" he finally whispered.

"Of what?" she asked softly.

"... of the emotions I am feeling, for you and our child."

"Why do you always have to be so in control of your emotions?"

"It's how I survive." His voice barely audible.

"And what do you think will happen if you do let go?"

"You will be hurt."

"Maybe, that might turn out to be the sweetest sort of pain."

Michael let out a sorrowful moan and buried his face in her hair. Elena pulled him closer as she felt his body start to tremble with emotion. Reaching around she pulled the covers down, easing him backwards as she followed him under the inviting warmth.

She hummed softly, a lullaby her mother used to sing to her a long time ago. When she thought he had fallen asleep, she stopped her humming and turned the light off. As she pulled the covers up around them, his voice floated softly across the quiet room.

"I want to give you all that you deserve."

"What you give me is enough" she whispered.

"No, it will never be enough."

"It's enough" she said emphatically. "Just love me Michael, that's more than I've had before. It's all I've ever needed."

"I love you" he sighed, gathering her body against him.

"Then I have everything I ever wanted. There is nothing to fear."

Michael felt the softness of Elena's lips against his. Her gentle charm deftly navigated through the emotional barriers he enclosed himself in. Not enough to pull them down, but just enough to create a fragile pocket of calm as the tide of fear washed over him, in guilty wave after wave.

******************

SEVEN

Adrian paced slowly behind Petrosian as he sat quietly, smoking a cigar.

"Must you?" she snapped irritably.

"Life offers so few of pleasures" he laughed.

"What do you have for me?" she said quietly.

"We have identified potential materials." He emptied the contents of an envelope onto the table and spread out four photos.

Adrian took the seat beside him and stared at the photos, all of the faces similar yet different. She glanced at the computer generated image on the screen beside her, impressed with the striking similarity to the photos in front of her.

"Very impressive" she nodded, taking her time to examine each photo in turn. "This one" she finally pronounced, indicating the photo closest to her.

"Yes, this one also being my choice." He tapped his finger on the photo and shook his head. "Unfortunate that the father is politician in British parliament. I worry concerning too many questions to explain."

She considered his comment for a moment, then changing tack she asked, "which of the four will be easiest to extract?"

Petrosian studied the photo's, considering her question. He finally slid one of the photo's closer to her and jabbed his finger at the face.

"This one, I am thinking."

"Background?"

"In my report. Lives with mother. Poor, not much of contact with outsiders, has been thrown from house or runs away from mother many times." He paused for a moment, grinning, seeming to search for the right word. "The mother is ... suffering from excess of western decadence."

"Meaning?" she asked, barely able to keep the amused grin from her face.

"She's liking too much of alcohol and man."

"I see."

Adrian stood and resumed her pacing. "Is there anyone other than the mother?" she asked.

"Nyet. Other than this mother, she has nobody."

"Good, we'll need to remove the mother from the equation. Canceling her may create too many questions, in conjunction with the disappearance of the daughter. We don't want to risk police involvement."

He shrugged. "Maybe, I am not expert on how these matters work in country of this girl."

"You say the mother is fond of men?"

"Yes, most fond."

"Then we'll send someone in to form an attachment, create friction between the mother and daughter. Having someone inside will also give me a chance to start the modification treatment. Based on your report it shouldn't be to difficult to force the mother into choosing between the girl or a new lover."

"... and her choose will be?"

Adrian smiled and patted his shoulder. "Once the girl's out it should be easy to pick her up without detection."

"I am becoming familiar with these street peoples. Faces are quickly forgotten, questions are never asked."

She turned to the computer screen again, momentarily lost in thought. She turned to him abruptly and asked, "what is her name?"

"Nicola" the word sounded harsh and guttural with his accent. "But they are calling her Nikita" he announced, raising his eyebrows in a questioning smile.

"Nikita" she tested, staring at the photo. "A man's name?"

"Not always. Can also be, how you call, affection name? Mother's grandparents was Russian. Very good, da?" he beamed.

She sat down again and placed the other photo's back in the envelope. She pulled the small photo of Madeline and her sister out of her pocket and placed it on the table. Petrosian leant down to study it, fascinated.

"I am not knowing the history between you and the lovely Madeline, but this seems much trouble to go to." He stood and wandered over to the window, gazing out the window at the garden. "You have very beautiful garden." He turned to face her. "Me personally, I think now I would focus on Michael, very interesting the relations between him and Operations, and Madeline. Very good to be bait, I think." He lit a cigarette, eyes focussed on Adrian. "What is it Madeline has do to make you so angered, Adrian?"

"Madeline is merely an effective weapon to use against my intended target. Far more effective than Michael. It's why I asked you to help me, I understand you tried a similar strategy a while ago, Ingyan."

"So you have been hearing about this" he sighed. "I should know that you hear, George was most unpleased with me."

"George prefers the more ... abstruse approach to procurement of his needs. Storming in and bedding the queen in an aborted attempt to seize the throne from the king was, perhaps, a touch too blatant for him."

"Your thinking my approach lacked ...ahhhh ... subtlety?"

"Only to someone with my delicate sensibilities. Although from what I can gather, George appreciated the finesse with which you carried out the manoeuver, even if he disapproved of your purpose."

"Perhapsed I achieve one purpose, but not all. Madeline provided plenty of the warmth, for one who is so often out in the cold."

"To each according to his need, Ingyan."

"Yes, this is true. I do not doubt my time will be come, now that I have your help." He directed a knowing smile at her, inclining his head. She nodded in response.

He stood up with a sigh. "Patience is what I have of plenty. Well, I best be going from you now to watch over our girl, Nikita. You will be wanting to move quickly now there is decision, yes?"

"Yes. I'll assign someone immediately, we can have them in place in a day or two. If you could stay until then I would appreciate it."

"Of coursed. The climate is being so ... tolerable here. At home is much snow. I'll be leaving the details of what to be doing about the Section people up to you."

"Yes, I'll take care of that" she agreed with a nod of her head. "Well, that's all then. I'm looking forward to meeting 'our' Nikita."

He laughed as he walked slowly from the room. "If you manage to keep her alived, she will be sending them all crazy."

"Yes, I do hope so" she smiled. "That is the point, after all."

*************************

EIGHT

"Do they have a location?" Operations asked, the instant Madeline stepped into his office.

"Pearson is sending it through now" Madeline replied. "They were also able to intercept and download the beta oscillation log from their transmission vector." She waved a disc in front of her, smiling.

"Sloppy procedure or a deliberate blunder?"

"Unknown, the contents should give us an indication."

"You can never be sure with Adrian" he grinned, removing his glasses. "Do we have a preliminary analysis?"

"Nothing more than a scan, but enough to confirm an approach to a Section address."

"Interesting. The recipient?"

"We'll need further analysis to verify."

Operations swung around and depressed a button on his desk. "Birkoff, my office now" he dictated to the intercom. Turning back to Madeline he asked, "do we have artwork on the people she's using?"

"No."

"Why the hell not? What have they been doing out there all week?"

"It appears we've been experiencing problems with our optical feedback channels. We have image, but the quality is poor."

Operations glanced around as Birkoff entered the office, then turned back to Madeline. "Try an enhancement?"

"I'll send it down to analysis, but I doubt they can do anything with it."

Madeline stood and loaded information from the disc onto Operations computer. With a nod of confirmation she took a seat across from him.

Operations finally turned to Birkoff. "I want you to search the transmission log Madeline has just loaded and identify any Section based location codes."

"One of ours?" Birkoff asked.

"No" Operations replied, supplying nothing further.

"OK, I'll transfer it down to Systems. I have access to a more powerful search engine and routines down there." Birkoff reached out a hand to take the disk from Madeline, but she made no move, other than to offer him a thin smile.

"No, you'll do it here, and now" Operations directed.

"Yes, Sir" Birkoff mumbled as he sat, scanning the screen to familarise himself with the data forms. With a flurry of fingers he started searching the file for Section codes. "Our Beta logs use a Fourier transform to compress the codes so they can be zipped and stored without corrupting data strings. Looks like this system does something similar. It'll take me a few minutes to identify what routine they're using. You want me to do it now?"

"Yes, Birkoff, if you can spare the time, so can I" Operations replied acidly.

Birkoff sighed and set to work. After fifteen minutes he had isolated three messages, all to the same address. One he knew well. He then went through the motions of comparing the codes against the Section account ledger.

"It's one of Michael's, Sir" Birkoff stated casually, fingers finally slowing on the keyboard. "A red address so it's secure. None of the messages have been opened yet."

"Has Michael logged in since they arrived?" Operations asked.

"Michael doesn't have access to his primary user accounts at the moment, he won't even know the messages are there" Birkoff supplied. "Do you want me to open them?"

"Will the sender know if they've been opened?" Madeline asked.

"I'd have to have a play with them to get property specs, but it looks like they've been encrypted so you could assume they've been flagged on their system. If you give me a couple of hours I can break the encryption codes and open them without detection. It doesn't look too difficult."

"I'll let you know," Operations responded. "That's all Birkoff" he added.

Birkoff shrugged and wandered out. Operations waited until he saw him return to his station in comms before continuing the discussion. "So Adrian is trying to contact Michael, or at least that's what she wants us to believe."

"You're assuming she hasn't be in contact with him before this."

"Michael would have informed us" Operations said cautiously. "Just to be sure, schedule a routine security review."

"Do you want me to call Michael in?"

"No, let's wait for the review. Adrian might just be blowing smoke and I don't want to bring Michael in on this, if we can avoid it. Can you get your people working on the contents of the messages, we need containment from mainstream."

"Of course. I'd like us to move immediately to arrest the activity Adrian is currently engaged in."

"It's obvious she's recruiting, to what end is unclear. I've already alerted George, but I think it's safe to assume he's unlikely to move with what we have so far."

"Then we need to take the initiative, intercept her targets and get to them first. If she has singled them out we can assume they will have skills that will benefit the Section."

"I'm disinclined to go up against Adrian without more solid intel."

"You're making more of this than is necessary" she stated calmly. "We continue to watch, and wait. As soon as we have a fix on her next target we move in and take them first. It's not inconceivable we would go after the same recruit."

"We could use the attempted communication with Michael as justification for monitoring her activities." Operations shared a smile with Madeline. "We wouldn't want anything to distract him at this critical phase" he grinned. "As a precaution, I think we should increase electronic surveillance."

"Agreed. It may also be useful to work Adrian's messages into one of Michael's reports. It will be beneficial, in the event George gets too curious."

"The secondary sequence you have in place may provide the necessary opportunities."

"It will also give us the opportunity to examine if there has been contact. I'll get started immediately," Madeline nodded as she headed for the door.

"Madeline" Operations called out as she reached the door. She turned, raised eyebrows framing her intense gaze.

"Adrienne will know, whatever we do" he said softly.

"You give her too much credit" Madeline tossed his way as she left.

********************************

NINE

"Which do you like better?" Elena asked, holding the colour swatches against the freshly painted wall.

"The yellow" Michael suggested.

"Not the turquoise?"

"Too dark. What about the rose?"

Elena laughed and shook her head. "Everything is pink with you, rose coloured glasses, Michael? How can you be so certain it's a girl."

"I am only 50% certain" he grinned. He climbed down from the ladder and folded it against the wall.

"It's magical" Elena smiled, admiring the mobile he had just hung. The small, crystal animal figures drifted lazily in the breeze, casting pale rainbows on the walls.

Michael smiled and sat on the floor, gazing around him. "Yes, it's perfect" he observed. He sighed and stretched out, resting against the floor.

"Elena?"

"Yes?"

"Should we contact your family? It won't be long now, you might like to have them near."

Elena sighed and leaned against the change table. Michael watched intently as her gaze swept around the room, finally settling on him.

"If my mother were still alive ..." her voice trailed off.

"And your father, should we try again?" Michael asked, moving the conversation on as he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

"He won't come, it's as if he refuses to acknowledge my existence. Though I get a sense sometimes we are being watched. Perhaps it is him, perhaps it is just my imagination."

"Do you want to talk about this?" he asked gently.

"Yes" she sighed, "I have no secrets from you."

Michael closed his eyes for a moment, a battle raging within him. He reached absently into his pocket and fingered the miniature scrambler Walter had provided him with. With a slow blink he opened his eyes to rainbows on the wall, the wooden crib where his child would sleep and Elena's questioning smile.

"What's wrong Michael?"

He smiled back at her and activated the unit as he sat up, feeling good, feeling ... relaxed.

"What was your childhood like, Elle?" he asked, voice quiet and low.

"Lonely."

"Tell me about it."

"My mother was very protective, very nervous, she kept me close. I hardly remember my father, we lived with him until I was about five. He was involved in many things, not all of them legal I suspect. It put a strain on their relationship, his business kept him away a lot of the time."

Michael blinked, exhaling slowly. "Like me" he whispered.

Elena gave him a patient smile as she bent slowly to join him on the floor. Michael raised his arms to help steady her descent.

"You are here as much as you can be. I understand."

She eased herself back and rested her head on his lap. He sat cradling her head, watching the soft colours as they floated around the room, fingers moving absently through her hair.

"But not as much as I want" he said dejectedly.

"When do we ever get all we want?" she smiled encouragingly.

He leant down and kissed her forehead, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. He felt a strange sense of exhilaration grip him as he gazed down at her.

"What is it?" she asked, almost laughing in response to the huge grin on his face.

"I'm not sure. I'm feeling ... strange" he replied.

"Strange?" she laughed. "Is that good?"

"Yes" he whispered, laying back down on the floor, settling her head on his stomach. "Tell me more" he urged.

"There's not much to tell. We moved around a lot. My mother seemed to be afraid of my father. I don't think he treated her well" Elena said softly.

"Did he ever ... treat you badly?" Michael asked cautiously.

"No, never. I can't say that he was a loving father, but he was courteous and gentle with me."

Michael rubbed his thumb idly against her cheek. "You deserved better, chérie" he said softly. He found his free hand irresistibly drawn towards her stomach, stroking gently.

"So did my mother" she replied sadly. "I only found out when I visited her in the hospital that last time how unhappy her life with him was."

"But without him she would not have had you. That must have made up for most things."

"Yes" Elena smiled, taking Michael's hand and weaving her fingers through his. "It's funny you should mention that. She told me about an incident that happened before I was born which surprised me."

"What was it?"

"My mother told me that my father made many enemies through his business. It's one of the reasons he leads such a secretive life. My mother struck up a friendship with a man who had been sent in to find out about some of my fathers business transactions. They became very close." Elena blushed and let out a soft chuckle. "You can imagine my surprise when she told me this. My mother was very religious, this man must have been ... special."

Michael shifted, curling his body around her as they sprawled on the floor.

"How 'close' were they?"

"They had an affair."

"An affair" he repeated, bending an arm back under his head. "How long did it last?"

"Only a couple of months. He wanted to take her away from my father, told her a way that he could get her out without my father knowing. But before he could do that he needed her to provide him with some information to ensure my father wouldn't come after them."

"How did it end?"

"Their affair remained a secret, but my father found out about the move against him. It had many repercussions for my parent's relationship and my father's business. This man my mother was involved with was high up in a very powerful organisation. My father went into hiding after this. I was born later that year. An interesting coincidence, don't you think?"

Michael rolled, supporting her head as he shifted to lay beside her. Resting her head on his chest he asked thoughtfully, "you think this man might be your biological father?"

"Maybe. I couldn't summon the courage to ask my mother. It would have achieved nothing, what difference does it make now?"

"Did your mother see him again?"

She smiled, pulling his hand to her cheek. "I asked her the same question. Her answer was - only once. Just after I was born, he came to visit her at the hospital."

Michael shifted so he could face her. He kissed her softly on the lips, a hand resting gently on her cheek. She let out a soft breath as she watched him. He smiled at her, resting his forehead against hers.

"Was she happy with this man?" he whispered.

"Yes, from the way she described their relationship, he was everything my father was not."

"Did she ever find out who he was?"

"No, she only knew him by his first name, she never tried to find him."

Against his better judgement Michael asked, "and the name he gave her?"

"George" Elena answered.

Seek and you will find he thought, allowing the twitch of amusement playing on his lips to turn into a smile.

*********************

TEN

"That's all I've got till you're inside, Cavern," Birkoff repeated wearily into his comm set. "Make sure the transponders earthed properly, you have a live current running behind that wall" he cautioned again. He listened to the reply and mumbled 'loser' under his breath.

Madeline appeared behind him, picking up a comm set and placing it in her ear before leaning in to observe the data and schematics on the screen in front of them.

He swung around to access a screen with data scrolling rapidly as he waited for the next inane question, his answer ready to go. "No, the Gruneisen ratio's are still way off, are you sure you have it on the primary coupler?" He listened for a moment then added condescendingly "that's the big shaft, attached to the GEW. ... Yeah, I'll wait" he sighed again. He jumped as an explosion nearly blew out his eardrum. He turned to Madeline with an incredulous look, shaking his head. "That'll be the transponder blowing" he sighed.

He turned to Madeline. "Games over" he concluded, shrugging his shoulders.

"Cavern, abort sequence, get your team out of there" Madeline said calmly. She turned to Birkoff, removing the comm unit from her ear. "Ask Mr Cavern to see me as soon as they get back" she directed, rising from her chair.

"With pleasure" Birkoff replied, watching Madeline retreat towards her office. He entered a few keystrokes and then closed off the mission log, sending it to Madeline. Walter wandered by on his way to munitions. Birkoff couldn't help himself.

"Hey Walter" he called out, trying to control the grin leaking out all over his face.

"Yeah?" Walter answered, swinging the explosives casing he was holding onto his shoulder.

"You know that dipole transponder you've been working on for the last few weeks?"

Walter looked confused for a moment then nodded his head, "the one that went out on the Dubai mission, with Cavern. What about it?"

"It's probably passing over the substation at Riyadh about now, you want me to give them a call?"

"You want me to wring your scrawny neck? What are you talking about? No wait, don't tell me. Let me guess. That idiot Cavern didn't earth it properly."

"Bingo."

"Shit. I'm gonna kill that guy."

"I think Madeline's gonna save you the trouble."

"Ohhh... " Walter said soberly. He scratched idly at his cheek, taking a seat beside Birkoff. "Yeah, well, guess some things are inevitable" he mumbled. "What's that" he asked quietly, pointing at a flashing icon at the bottom of Birkoff's screen.

Birkoff glanced around then set his fingers to work on the keyboard. "Michael" he whispered, setting up a deep channel link.

Walter placed the explosives casing onto his lap, pointing to some circuitry on the cover and then to the screen, mumbling the words to a Rolling Stones song. Birkoff stifled a laugh and looked at the screen, nodding sagely. He pulled up the schematics of a whisky still Walter had asked him to download from the internet, as background.

"What did Michael think about that access anomaly you found?" Walter asked, tracing a piece of tubing on the screen. "Damn, I must of got the measurements wrong, that's why the chamber keeps boiling off. Suppose it's too much to ask for them to put a scale on these things."

"I can check and see if there's any more info on the site. That last brew was pretty good, though. Oversight, he thinks they're watching. He picked up the same flag when he was looking through Madeline's system."

"So they know Adrian's up to something?" Walter asked, fiddling with some wiring on the casing.

"As if they wouldn't! Michael hasn't returned the messages she's been sending him, as far as I can tell he hasn't even opened them. Wish I had his control."

"You opened them?"

"Of course" Birkoff replied, looking down at the relay unit Walter had pulled out and started dismantling.

"So?"

"Just a cell phone number and a contact time" Birkoff replied. "Very disappointing."

"Did you trace the number?"

"Nothing. No listing on any of the databases I can access." He turned to an adjacent screen and adjusted the parameters on a sim. "I saw Lewis going backwards and forwards from Madeline's office" he whispered, "you think he's in on it."

"Nah, I talked to Carter the other day. Lewis has them on scheduled extractions and review. Unless they're using a new team there's nothing happening there."

Birkoff glanced around again, finger's working swiftly on the keyboard.

"Did you tell Michael about the changes we found in the Vacek profile?" Walter asked.

"Yeah, he already found some of the revisions in a file Madeline was working on. They're trying to speed things up."

"Big surprise."

"I loved the line Madeline fed him about the new clock frequencies. As if. I wonder what else he has floating around in his body he doesn't even know about."

"Remember that guy, what was his name, Shaffer, Shlatter? Something like that. They thought he was working double and ended up with so much crap floating around inside he used to set off the alarms at airports when he flew commercial. They got him shot up early on and told him it was a bullet lodged in his skull, gave him a doctor's certificate and all. Dumb bastard."

"Yeah, I remember. Knowing Michael he probably has a x-ray unit set up at home so he can keep track."

"Nothing gets by that boy. Including trouncing the reigning master of idiot computer games. I hear you went back to Quake, that bandwith testing of UT didn't bring you any joy."

"He just got lucky" Birkoff mumbled.

"Better to be born lucky than good looking, hey Birkoff" Walter grinned. Looking across at Birkoff, he nodded at the screen. "Message is in."

Birkoff opened the message, sending back a response immediately and closing down the link.

"Whats he want to access some old files for?" Walter pondered, shrugging his shoulders and standing up.

"Don't know" Birkoff replied, "and at this stage, I don't really want to know."

***********************************

ELEVEN

"I understand we have confirmation" Operations stated as he swept into Madeline's office.

"Yes, Lewis was just debriefing." Madeline nodded towards Operations and then shifted her attention back towards the man sitting opposite her. "Please, continue Lewis" she smiled thinly, tilting her head slightly as she gazed at the images on her screen.

"I have a team watching the girl they appear to be targeting. You have the artwork onscreen. From what we can uncover she's nothing special, just some street kid. They've had a two-man unit tailing her, they're good. It was only luck that allowed us to intercept."

Lewis glanced up at Operations then back to Madeline. "Our profile shows an unstable background with a wino mother, she's been on and off the streets for years. A few convictions for petty crimes over that time. >From what we've seen she's resourceful and adapts well."

"And your preliminary rating?" Operations asked.

"C grade suitability. We've selected from that pool before for specifics, usually valentine and undercover material" Lewis responded.

"Hardly worth the effort under normal circumstances" Operations sighed, taking off his glasses and leaning back against Madeline's desk.

"We could bring her in, see how she goes. With the right ..."

"We're not running a summer camp here, Madeline" Operations interrupted impatiently.

"If you'll let me finish" she responded icily, directing a withering smile at Operations. "With the right stimulus her psychological profile could be adjusted appropriately to give us what we need. The scenario in which we bring her in should be designed to create the illusion she is capable of performing for the Section."

"Alright" Operations agreed reluctantly. "I'd rather we have her and it could meet a number of objectives."

"It would need to be a significant hit to get her a maximum with no priors" Lewis remarked.

"Agreed" Madeline stated. "I suggest a police officer. Select someone clean, a young family and grieving widow would help expedite the conviction. I'll leave the details of a synthetic or substantive victim up to you. Use our legal people to defend her so it won't go to trial."

"How long Lewis?" Operations asked.

"We can be ready to go in two days. What timeframe do you want for the extraction?"

"Get her in quickly, especially if she's going around saying she's innocent," Operations reflected smugly. "The set-ups are usually more malleable if we bring them in quickly."

"Is that all?" Lewis asked.

"For now. Select your team from the abeyance pool again. Keep it small, we'll be sanitising once we have closure. Keep Madeline updated with your progress. Get the paperwork together and send it to me by the end of the day."

Lewis nodded curtly and left the room. As the doors closed behind him Operations let out a deep sigh and walked around to stand behind Madeline.

"She's very attractive, underneath the grunge" Operations noted, leaning in to rest his hands on Madeline's chair.

"Yes" Madeline whispered.

"Are you alright?" he asked, leaning in closer.

"I'm fine. What do you want to do about Adrian?"

"Nothing. This may be all the push she needs to withdraw completely. She knows we'll be watching. Keep monitoring Michael's incoming comms in case she tries to contact him again. Other than that ... we sit and wait."

Operations turned abruptly and left, the doors closing silently behind him.

Madeline sat quietly for a moment before reaching out a shaky hand to again bring up the profile Lewis had provided.

She stared intently at the image of the girl. There was no reason to get worked up, she instructed herself. It could just be a coincidence, a bizarre coincidence with neither artifice nor design behind it. She almost laughed out loud at such a ludicrous thought. Adrian despised her, even more than she despised Paul.

That she would expose Adrian's plan was not a variable that disturbed her. It was the timeframe that was at issue. She would uncover whatever it was Adrian was planning, and the sooner they had this girl inside the Section the sooner she could start. Although unusual, she would even suggest to Paul that she act as the girl's Mentor. Easier to contain the situation if she retained complete control. Adrian still commanded a certain loyalty that would need to be carefully managed.

*******************************

TWELVE

The tall blonde paced around the room, throwing or upending any object that came within her path. The shouts of a violent argument between the blonde and man several years her senior could be heard over the audio. Finally the man threw a solid punch at the girl. She wavered, holding a hand to her cheek. She waited for him to come into range again then brought a knee up powerfully into his groin as he swung at her again. The man rolled to the floor and the girl kicked him in the stomach before retreating to pick up some of the clothes scattered around the room and stuffing them in a backpack. An older woman ran towards the man as he lay groaning on the floor, screaming obscenities at the girl. The girl started crying and then ran from the room.

Adrian switched to another tape. This one, of a much poorer quality, showed the girl huddled in a doorway, damp clothes clinging to shivering limbs. She was passed a bottle by a greasy haired boy behind her and drank greedily. Wiping her mouth with a dirty sleeve she passed the bottle to an anemic looking girl in exchange for a cigarette.

Adrian clicked the video off and turned to the people around her.

"I think we need to speed things up" she stated affably. "What do you have Carla?"

"She's been on the streets for three weeks now, but I'm not sure how things are progressing. How are we supposed to know if it's worked?"

"Don't fret, we won't know, until the time comes" Adrian replied quietly. "Having Section interfere means we were only able to lay the foundations. What are they up to, Stephen?"

"They've been watching her for the last week. Lewis took over today. He was providing oversight from the van."

"So they're seriously thinking about recruiting her. How long do you think we have?" Carla asked.

"Adrian would know better than me, but Lewis usually comes in just before. So, maybe a week."

"Possibly less" Adrian replied as she stood and walked over to make herself a cup of tea. She wandered back, mind lost in thought as she resumed her seat with a deep sigh. "Let them take her" she finally whispered. "It's too soon to fully realise my plans, and having her inside may provide us with alternative opportunities that will be just as effective. Even with what we achieved to date, she will be effective in destabilising Operations and Madeline."

"She'll be vulnerable until we can re-establish contact after the blackout period" Carla stated, making no effort to disguise the concern in her voice.

"Agreed. If she lives up to our expectations she will definitely need protection. I'll think about what options we have for protection inside the Section, and we'll need to consider the best options for monitoring once she passes training."

"How can you be sure she'll get through?" Stephen asked. "Lot's of them don't."

"Because I know just the person to ensure that she does. It's just a matter of getting him to assist us, without being aware that he is."

********************************

THIRTEEN

Madeline sat working at her computer as the doors to her office opened. She waited till she heard a shuffling noise in front of her desk before looking up.

"What is it Birkoff?" she asked pleasantly.

"I have the analyses you wanted" he replied, fidgeting with the disc in his hand. He finally held it out, sliding it across the desk towards her.

"Thank you" she smiled, "you didn't need to bring it personally, is the mail system down?"

"Yes, ummm, no the systems working fine" he quickly corrected. "It's a big file, I included the simulations you suggested. It would have tied up your system for a while downloading. I know you're busy."

"Thank you. Can you give me a précis?" she asked distractedly, turning back to her monitor.

"Our log show's Michael's personnel files have been accessed. Whoever broke in knew our systems, both the utility and aegis files have been breached."

"I see. Have any other files been accessed?"

"Yes" he replied cautiously.

"My file" she stated calmly.

"Yes" Birkoff confirmed, unconsciously taking a step back.

"Do you have anything to go with?"

"No. I've already put a failsafe on the aegis system. Do you want me to update the codes?"

"I think we need more than just an update. This can't happen again, you understand that, don't you."

"Yes. I'll do a complete overhaul. I'm working on a new system that should protect the file system and allow us to shadow any attempts at access" he replied enthusiastically.

Her phone rang and with a smile at Birkoff she picked it up, listening. She thanked the caller and replaced the receiver. With a few keystrokes she locked her workstation and stood, gesturing for Birkoff to precede her as they left her office. She turned to face him as the doors closed behind them.

"How long will the modifications take?" she asked.

"A couple of days" Birkoff replied.

"You have twelve hours, Birkoff" she offered, heading off towards Operations office. "Be quick" she called behind her "and I'll make sure this remains our little secret. You'd be hard to replace."

Birkoff watched her go, taking a deep breath before he headed back to comms.

*************************

"I've just received word from Lewis, the preliminary sequence is complete. Extraction will be in four weeks" Madeline announced as she entered Operations loft.

"I just hope we haven't wasted resources to bring her in." Operations lit a cigarette and went to stand at the window. "I assume if Adrian saw something there we can find some use for her."

"We'll have to wait and see" Madeline replied. "I need to discuss the training roster with you, we're short of mentors at the moment. I know you dislike committing Level 4 and 5 Operatives to training duty but we may need to reassess in light of this shortage."

"We can go through it later in the week. Your suggestions are always welcome." He turned and smiled, stubbing out his cigarette and placing his hands in pockets. "Good work on this Madeline, quick and relatively easy" he smiled, "it should make Adrian think twice before she moves against us again."

"I wish she were that easily discouraged" Madeline replied.

She took a seat at Operations desk, keying in a sequence and pulling up an image of the White Room. A figure lay on a bed, unmoving. "I have something to attend to" Madeline stated as she rose stiffly from the chair.

"Of course. Were we able to extract him without incident?"

"Yes, the Somnolent Unit took him down instantly. Perhaps we should consider using them more extensively" she mused looking at the screen. She turned and looked down on Systems. "I arranged for Elena to be out when we moved. The search team found nothing conclusive on his remote system or in a thorough search of the house."

"Did they find the scrambler?" he asked, joining her at the window.

"No."

He let out a deep sigh and plunged his hands into his pockets. "So he hasn't been in contact with Adrian?"

"I've found no superficial evidence to support collusion."

"Why the hell is she trying to engage him now, at this critical time in the Vacek mission. It's to much of a coincidence for my liking."

"Yes, but that may be all it is. Maybe she saw an opportunity and took it."

Operations considered this, pacing furiously behind his desk. He glanced at the monitor and stifled a desire to sigh. "It doesn't make sense, she'd know that Oversight is also watching. I don't understand why is everyone wants him, now?" He walked around behind his desk and glanced at the image on the screen. "How long has he been out?"

"Five hours."

"I've reviewed the log. One of Vacek's people has been in touch with them" Operations stated.

"Yes, Michael has spoken to him twice this week. He's using a cover, distant Uncle on the mother's side. Birkoff was unable to trace the call, other than to identify a possible country of origin. The cover is solid, but not impermeable."

"Your point being?"

"It's possible Vacek isn't aware of the contact."

"If Vacek has a rouge agent, don't you think this is something we might like to know?" he hissed. He started pacing, anger spilling over into every movement. "This is moving too slowly, it's already been twelve months" he barked. "I thought we were taking steps to degrade the timeframe." He pulled out a cigarette, then crumbled it in his fingers and slammed his fist on the desk. "I want control back where it belongs, that includes getting Michael back" he seethed.

Madeline moved to stand in front of him, pinning him against the desk. Close, eyes boring into his.

"Pull yourself together" she whispered viciously, "you're acting like a child."

She waited patiently as he prowled the floor in front of her, his angry circuits gradually decreasing.

"I think you need to face the fact that this mission may be long term." Her voice this time soft and soothing. "I caution you against any further moves to accelerate the profile. The Agency has been after Vacek and his partners going on for thirty years. Oversight has him at the top of their list. They will do whatever it takes, including keeping Michael in place, for however long it takes to ensure closure. If you resist this you will put yourself, and the Section, in direct conflict with Oversight."

Operations sighed and slumped into his chair. "Surely the man would want to be there for the birth of his grandson? What the hell more can we do to draw him out?"

"If he doesn't respond to this we'll have to try something else. Each event helps us refine his profile, improving the probabilities of achieving our endgame."

Operations sighed again, attention focussed vaguely on the screen in front of him rather than Madeline's piercing gaze. "Get this over with and get Michael out of here. The last thing I need is to have George find him here, in the White Room of all places. I'll observe from here."

"Fine" she said calmly, a thin smile hiding her irritation, "I'll get it done, quickly." She turned and headed for the door. "You just sit back, relax" she added caustically as she disappeared out the door.

*****************

FOURTEEN

The door closed behind Madeline with a slight creak that heralded a sudden change in air pressure inside the room. She walked slowly, following the curve of the wall. Walked until she could feel her calm return. Michael was difficult enough to handle when she was in total control. Even coming out of the drugs he would sense her mood and capitalise on it. She couldn't afford to give him that edge.

With a deep breath she turned her full attention to the narrow bed supporting Michael's inert body. She hadn't seen him in the flesh in six weeks and was pleased with the change she observed. With a slow turn around the bed she traced a finger down his torso and leg, then up the other side. In sleep he looked relaxed and untroubled, in stark contrast to the exhaustion and black mood that had clouded his features for the previous few months. A light tan gave his face a youthful, healthy glow.

She noticed a smudge of yellow paint on his cheek and ran her finger along it, smiling at the fact that he obviously hadn't shaved in a few days. Michael hated shaving. In a lighter moment she had inserted this fact in his profile. This frivolous comment had led to a particularly nasty session at the hands of two rogue agents from the Agency he had been sent in to cancel. After completing the mission he had stood over her while she removed the offending line, just before he collapsed and was taken to Medical.

She laid the small black case she had been carrying next to him on the bed and opened it, extracting a needle. Placing a rubber tourniquet under his biceps she gently rubbed the inside of his forearm until a vein emerged. Sliding the needle in she slowly emptied the contents of the syringe into his bloodstream, loosening and removing the tourniquet with her free hand.

She glanced down at his fingers as they started twitching erratically, suddenly noticing the wedding ring. A fleeting emotion passed through her at seeing this, to quick to precisely define.

She leaned down next to his face, knowing it would disturb him to find her this close when he regained consciousness. His eyes moved rapidly beneath fluttering lids, then with a slow blink they opened. Taking a moment to focus he blinked again then glanced at her before his eyes swept the room. His eyes came back to rest on her, and she was amazed at how he could convey such focussed hostility without any perceptible change in facial features.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, running the palm of her hand across his forehead. His head sunk back a fraction into the pillow at her touch.

"What am I doing here?" he asked softly, ignoring her question.

"You collapsed inside your home, I sent a team in to check, they found you unconscious and brought you back here to Medical."

"This isn't Medical" he stated, his voice calm and measured.

"No, I thought it would create fewer variables to treat you here."

She could see he didn't believe her, his arms struggled for a moment against the restraints.

"Where is Elena?" he demanded.

"She wasn't home when it happened. I wanted to check what the problem was before I contacted her."

Michael glanced down at the restraints then back towards her, an eyebrow raising slightly.

"Just a precaution" she answered, retrieving a key from her pocket and releasing him.

He swung his legs off the bed and sat up, slowly, taking a moment to steady himself. He frowned as a hand went to his hip, pulling down the white drawstring pants he had been changed into to expose an adhesive dressing. He pulled it off, observing the neat row stitches a couple of millimetres long. He sighed and replaced the dressing, dropping his feet to the ground.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked, the hint of anger in his voice brought quickly under control.

"I'll get someone to bring them down when we're done" she answered agreeably.

Michael glanced around, eyes flicking up to the camera and then down towards the floor for a moment. He stood, stretching for a moment to regain his balance then walking slowly across the room to lean against the wall, directly under the camera, hands crossed in front of him, waiting.

"We've been monitoring a number of communications sent to you from outside the Section that, on the surface, suggest you have been compromised."

Michael stood perfectly still, studying Madeline intensely. "You have been monitoring all my activity, you know who I have been in contact with." His voice soft and lethal.