Madeline felt her teeth grinding involuntarily as she nodded her head in his direction. "Of course, Michael, I'm aware of who you've been contacting within our agreed framework." She strolled slowly around the bed, coming to stand in front of him. "What I'm interested in is any activity outside that agreement."

He looked at her, shrugging his shoulders indifferently in response to her statement. She wondered, idly, if he might finish off the gesture with a yawn. He didn't.

"Do you have anything you would like to tell me?" she asked, clasping her hands in front of her, knowing he would identify these words and the stance as her standard beginning to an interrogation.

He did. The corner of his mouth twitched, in what she recognised as the precursor to a smile. He stopped it there, almost breathing his response. "No." A slight shake of his head accompanied this succinct declaration, eyes meeting hers to support his negation to her question.

Madeline took a step closer, eyes boring into his. "You'd like me to believe that."

He shrugged his shoulders again. "You'll believe whatever you want, Madeline," he stated calmly.

"I'm not looking for a dupe, Michael. I just want you to tell me the truth."

"Perhaps it would help to speed things up if I knew what ... sort ... of truth you were looking for."

Madeline smiled, as much at his statement as the look of earnest ambivalence he directed at her. She had her lips poised to reply when a buzzer sounded. She walked across to the intercom and picked up the handset.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, watching Michael.

Birkoff's voice boomed in her ear. "Madeline, I'm tracking a series of personal calls going to Michael's cell phone, they began about three hours ago, coming in every half hour or so. I've tried to call him a couple of times. He's not answering."

"Thank you Birkoff, I'll take it from here."

She disconnected and dialed another extension, eyes still on Michael.

"Bring his clothes in and have a car ready" she commanded, replacing the handset on the wall.

A few seconds later the door opened, an operative walked in carrying a plastic box which he placed on the bed before turning and leaving. Madeline walked over and rummaged through the box, pulling out a cell phone and switching it on. She glanced across to Michael and gestured towards the box with a flourish of her hand and a smile. Sitting on the bed she watched his approach, each step measured with suspicion and distrust.

He peered in to see his clothes, neatly folded. With a glance towards her, he took them out of the box and placed them on the bed, tossing the box on the floor. He pulled off the Medical issue pants and top, scrunching them into a ball and throwing them into the box. He stood naked, rummaging through the pile of clothes for briefs and jeans. Glancing at her, Michael dressed slowly, deliberately, searching each piece of clothing meticulously before putting it on.

"If there is anything going on I'll find out, sooner or later," she said, arms propped either side, legs swinging carefree beneath her. He zipped up the fly of his jeans, pensive, ignoring her words, pulling out socks and boots, checking thoroughly before sitting to put them on.

"Probably sooner" she mused. "You should know by now, rather than discouraging, your silence serves only to aggravate my curiosity."

He was reaching for his shirt when the shrill ring of the cell phone finally drew his attention to her. She held it out in the palm of her hand, smiling as he took it from her. He pulled his shirt on as he answered.

"Yes?" he answered. She watched his face as he listened, eyebrows and forehead creasing into a frown.

"Ralentis, chérie. Where are you now?" he asked softly, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear as he buttoned his shirt and tucked it in.

"Yes, I'll call the doctor ... half an hour? ... oui ... I'm sorry" he whispered, pulling on his leather jacket and moving towards the door. Madeline moved swiftly to head him off, guarding the door. Michael stopped, turning his back on her as he finished his conversation.

"Yes ... soon... of course ... je t'aime" he concluded, folding the phone with a sigh and placing it in his pocket.

Madeline seized his arm, forcing him around to face her.

"Are we done?" he asked, irritatingly calm all things considered.

"Just do the job, Michael, because that's all it is" she decreed, fingers digging into his wrist. "Whatever illusion you have going through your head to help you get through this, understand that this isn't real." She leaned in close, each word deliberate, "disengage from the emotion without loosing your focus."

Michael shook his head slowly, an incredulous look on his face, emotion glistening in his eyes.

"Do you even understand what is happening here, Madeline? Do you have any idea what you are asking?" He unlocked her fingers from his wrist, blinking rapidly. "Disengage?" he repeated bitterly, spitting the word out as he looked up at her, "I am not a machine to be switched on and off at your whim."

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Shaking his head in disgust, he brushed past her, opening the door and all but running down the corridor to make his escape.

Madeline watched him go, an uncomfortable sense of foreboding clinging to her in his wake. An old cliché sprung to mind - what goes around, comes around. With it came a sudden clarity of thought that revealed to her the brutal simplicity of what Adrian had been attempting. They were slaves of the past as much as the present. Emotion was the bond that kept them shackled. She had long ago found the switch that allowed her to cut off, disconnect, avoid the discomfort.

If he was to continue to meet their requirements, Michael would have to learn to do the same. She wanted him disconnected, completely. With a smile she felt her mind move into overdrive. Perhaps the weapon Adrian was preparing to use against her would be the perfect vehicle to teach him this valuable lesson. There was a certain symmetry in this approach that appealed, deliciously.

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

FIFTEEN

Michael sat down with a weary sigh, eyes enthralled as he watched Elena. She looked up at him, exhaustion giving way to another intoxicated smile. He brushed at the hair falling around her face, loosening the band struggling to hold it in place. Using his fingers as a comb he fashioned her hair into a plait then retied it. He leant around, kissed her tenderly on the cheek, arms encircling her to pull the small bundle in her arms closer.

"You should get some rest, it's been a long night" he whispered against her cheek.

"Yes, for all us." She turned her face to him, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. "I'm glad you were there, and, I'm sorry I said those ... ummmm ... things ... to you." She blushed, glancing down at their baby, shaking her head in amazement.

Michael laughed softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I wasn't the one doing the hard work, Elle. I'm surprised you didn't call me much worse."

"You were so sure it was going to be a girl. You're not disappointed?"

Michael just smiled and shook his head slowly.

"The name you chose will have to wait till next time." She leant down and kissed a tight little fist. "Here, hold your son, " she grinned, passing the baby to him.

Michael received the baby from her, holding him in the crook of his arm and unwrapping the blanket that had been securely fastened around him. He inspected the tiny fingers and toes, the small tubing tying off the umbilical cord, wrinkled skin, button nose and exquisite pink lips.

"He's beautiful" Elena whispered.

Michael could only nod in agreement, not trusting his emotions with a verbal reply. He rubbed his fingers over the fuzzy dark hair, stunned to see blue eyes open as the face contorted into a huge yawn, arms and legs flexing for a moment before relaxing. With a smile he wrapped the blanket firmly around again, then held him out in front of them.

"Welcome Adam, we're glad to finally meet you" he smiled. "On your way to join us you made your mother call me some very bad names." Adam let out a soft whimper which quickly developed into a throaty cry. "It's alright little one" he crooned, "she apologised."

Elena laughed and gently slapped her hand against his arm

"She also beats me, Adam. We will have to stick together" he whispered conspiratorially. Elena burst out laughing and tried to thump him again, but he was too quick for her, rising and stepping out of reach in one fluid motion. With a smile he returned to her side and she looked up at him, shaking her head, grinning. She wrapped an arm around his hips, fingers tucked inside the waistband of his jeans, head resting against his warm stomach.

"I'm very happy" she said softly.

"Yes" he agreed, cradling the whimpering baby in one arm and Elena's head in the other, "very" he whispered. He leant down and kissed her then walked slowly around the room, rocking gently until the baby quieted and settled back into sleep. He walked for a while longer before placing Adam in the bed provided, pulling the woolen cap down around his head and securing the blankets around his tiny body.

Michael wheeled the trolley supporting Adam's bassinet closer to Elena's bed. He sat down beside her, running the back of his hand over her cheek, taking her hand in his. Her eyes blinked slowly, fighting off sleep.

"I'll go home, have a shower and change, be back in a couple of hours." He kissed her again, then held her palm against his cheek.

"Will you call my family, let them know?" she asked, her voice sleepy and low.

"Of course, chérie" he replied. "It's been such a perfect day, who knows, maybe even your father will be in contact."

She shook her head regretfully, letting out a gentle sigh.

"Sleep, I'll be back soon" he said softly, kissing the palm of her hand.

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

SIXTEEN

The clouds cast shadows across the perfectly manicured lawn, a stencil of brilliant colour emerging where the sun illuminated the garden. George watched, entranced, as Adrian moved methodically, tending to each plant with the precision of a surgeon and the tenderness of lover.

"I didn't expect to see you back here so soon" she remarked, snipping delicately at some yellowing leaves.

"I didn't expect to be back so soon" he responded.

"So I gather this isn't a social visit" she stated, glancing up at him with a smile.

"Yes ... and no. It's always good to see you."

"Of course. Would you like another drink, perhaps something stronger this time?"

"That would be nice, maybe a whisky?"

"Come inside, I'll see what I can find."

Adrian led the way inside and directed him to a comfortable chair overlooking the garden. She joined him a few minutes later, passing him a glass of whisky as she took the seat opposite.

"Thank you. Shall we get our business over with first. I've been monitoring activity at the Section over the last few weeks. It seems you've been keeping Paul and Madeline quite busy. I thought I asked you to stop whatever you were up to, it appears you have chosen to ignore me. Not a wise decision, Adrian."

"That's not exactly my recollection of the discussion, but let's not quibble over semantics. There's nothing going on now George, you can relax."

"Relax? Hmmmm ... I'll need to borrow your dictionary a bit later. So can I be clear, you're telling me you are no longer engaged in any activities that are in conflict with or would compromise the current Director of Operations of the Section."

"Well, now, that's a rather grand statement. 'A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory', I can't remember who said that, can you?"

"I'll take that as yes, shall I, and we'll call this affair closed."

"If it will help with your busy schedule, then yes, the 'affair' is closed."

"Good." He swallowed the last of his whisky and placed his glass on the table.

"Another?" she asked.

"Yes."

Adrian nodded and a young man brought a bottle over, poured some more whisky into his glass and then left the bottle on the table.

"Thank you Malcolm" George smiled. He gazed out the window for a moment before turning his attention back to Adrian. "You wanted to discuss recruitment approvals, why?"

"There is a girl they will be seeking approval to recruit. I came across her a while ago. I'd be interested in keeping track of her progress."

"Why?"

"A casual interest, nothing more. She befriended one of the girls that helps me out on occasion. She didn't seem like Section material, it would be interesting to monitor her progress. Something of a check to see how their current procedures are working. It's always useful to have an outsiders perspective on these things."

"I'd hardly characterise you as an outsider."

"Still, you value my opinion."

"What's her name?"

"Nikita."

"Yes, unusual name for a woman, Nikita. It made me think of our friend Ingyan. If memory serves I remember he used to have a cat by the same name, back in training. Made quite a fuss when I directed him to get rid of it." George stared at Adrian, one eyebrow raised in reproach, a brittle smile on his lips.

"Amazing, what a coincidence" Adrian commented glibly. "Have you received her dossier yet?" she pressed on.

"Yes, it's on my desk at the moment. She was interned a couple of days ago, Section wants to pull her out in four weeks. Would you be recommending recruitment?"

"Yes."

"I see. And you want me to believe all the lies you've just told me?"

"Yes."

"Alright" he sighed, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

A quiet beep interrupted their conversation. George reached inside his jacket and withdrew a cell phone. "Do you mind?" he asked, looking at Adrian.

"Not at all" she replied.

George flipped the phone open and answered "yes ... put him through."

He placed his drink on the table and gazed out the window as he listened. The conversation was brief, started with a curious "hello" and ended with a polite "thank you". George took a deep breath and poured himself another drink.

"Bad news?" Adrian asked.

"Depends on your point of view. That was Michael, informing me that I'm a grandfather. Elena gave birth to a boy this morning."

"You told him?" Adrian said, unable to keep the amazement out of her voice.

George looked across at her, one eyebrow raised in a deadpan stare. "What do you think?"

"He's good, you have to give him credit."

"Indeed. Too good, some might say."

"Well, this should be entertaining."

"There's no need to gloat."

"You must have realised this was a possibility. No doubt it's one of the reasons you chose him in the first place."

"Yes. I trust Michael, in so far as you can trust anyone in this business. He'll keep it to himself, information is power, after all. He knows its value."

Adrian leaned across, a wicked grin on her face. "He's got you George" she said smugly.

George stared off into the distance for a moment. "Yes, it would seem so" he finally whispered. He took a sip of his drink, looking across to Adrian thoughtfully.

"Not only did he work this out" George contemplated, "he's moved us further ahead on the Vacek profile in the last 12 months than we achieved in fourteen years of intense surveillance. He's opened up Vacek's inner circle, the contact is letting small things slip in their phone conversations. It may still be a while before we get him, but we can start to close in on his network while we wait."

"And while we wait, you get to ease your conscience over Elena."

"Yes, there's that too" George acknowledged sadly.

Adrian took another sip of sherry, swirling the remains in her glass. "She's had a difficult life, but from what I have observed she seems to be very happy with him. You've given her that, at least. A baby wouldn't have been my recommendation, but then, it's hard to know how these things will pan out. It could make it easier, or harder."

"It's more than she would have had if she'd been pulled into Vacek's net following her mother's death. At least I was able to offer an alternative." He sighed and gazed out the window again. "I'll make sure she's protected" he said quietly.

"Pity you can't do the same for Michael" Adrian whispered, her light tone edged with disapproval.

"That can't be helped. This is what he is trained to do. He knows how it will end."

"I'm sure that's a source of great comfort to him" she said patronisingly.

"It's too late for recrimination and soul searching. We need to bring Vacek down, it's not negotiable. If you have an alternative that delivers that and a fairytale ending I'd be happy to hear it, Adrian."

Adrian finished her drink and poured a drop of whisky into her glass.

"You could set something in place now, a life line. Since Paul has conveniently taken Simone out of the picture he needs someone else he can trust, on the inside. Someone to help him through this when the time comes, someone close."

"What are you suggesting? I find him a mistress?"

"No" Adrian laughed, "though it's an interesting idea. I'm sure Madeline would offer her services. No doubt she'd be the first to volunteer to lie on her back for King and country, and Michael, and ..."

"Adrian" he warned, cutting her off.

"Yes, I digress. I was thinking more along the lines of someone he can focus his attention on, something solid outside the fantasy life you are forcing on him. It could be something as simple as a new challenge, perhaps ... a recruit to train?" she said enthusiastically.

"Why do I feel like you're leading me through a maze blindfolded, again" he smiled.

"I think your eyes are well and truly opened" she smiled in response. "It's a solution to both our problems."

"Or perhaps it will just create another problem I'll have to deal with."

"Don't be such a pessimist."

"Sorry, comes with the job. Paul hasn't allowed Michael to take on new material since he reached Level 3, and because of his accelerated program he didn't take on the usual number while at 2. Paul likes him focussed, at his beck and call."

"Yes, he does see him as his beck and call boy. He also sees Michael as a threat, that's why he keeps him so close."

"Yes, interesting, isn't it. The perception in Section is that Michael is being groomed to take over, when, in fact, Paul is working as hard as he can to make sure that never happens. He at least has the good sense to recognise a threat when he sees one. You know the old saying about keeping your enemies close."

"Yes, I learnt that the hard way."

"I'm sorry my dear, I didn't mean ..."

"I know what you meant. We all have to move on. It's fine."

"Michael will come into his own, eventually. With or without my help, I suspect."

"You're probably right, though a little push here and there never hurts. Leave nothing to chance."

"Yes, I'll keep watching. Speaking of which, Paul has been trying to tamper with the timelines on the Vacek mission. It's been quite entertaining to watch. Madeline is keeping me updated. It's seems he's had something a breakthrough. I'm informed he finally acknowledged the imprudence of pursuing this course."

Adrian laughed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I missed that discussion."

George grinned contentedly. "Perhaps, if you're a good girl, I'll send you the tape."

"He need's to be brought under tighter control."

"Yes, but not this way. Using Michael will be counterproductive."

"He's Level 5, they can't cancel him without your approval."

"You are talking about Paul and Madeline, aren't you?" he asked, amused. "The Cleavers?"

Adrian sighed. "Yes, of course, how silly of me to forget." She nodded her head slowly, gazing out at the evening shadows.

"I think Michael will realise the conundrum Paul is in. It should offer him a measure of protection, at least while the Vacek mission is in play."

"Yes" she said thoughtfully, "I see." She turned to George, "you will give my proposal some thought, won't you."

"Perhaps ... There was an interesting memo on training assignments Madeline included in the recruitment file."

"Good, that's settled then."

"Leave it with me."

"I'll call Malcolm, you'll stay for dinner, won't you. Perhaps a small celebration is in order."

"A grandson" he mused, "it doesn't happen every day. I'd love to."

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

SEVENTEEN

Michael prowled slowly through the corridors of Section, feeling a peculiar sense of detachment to the activity around him. Opening the door and entering his office, his hand moved mechanically to switch on the desk light and boot up the computer. He suddenly stopped, looking down at his fingers as they rested on one of the buttons of his jacket, one button already undone. With a smile he turned and went out into Comms, heading for Birkoff's station. The young man was talking to Walter, both of them turned at his arrival.

"Hello" he smiled at the pair.

"Welcome back, Michael" Birkoff said cheerily.

"Yeah, good to be home again, I'll bet" Walter added.

Michael smiled and shook his head non-committally. A buzzer sounded on Birkoff's desk and he picked up a handset, listening for a moment before replacing it.

Glancing up towards Operations loft he said "he wants to see you in his Office."

Walter and Michael both glanced up, seeing Operations and Madeline staring down at them.

"His masters voice," Walter murmured.

"I'd better go, leave you to your practice" Michael said quietly.

"What practice?" Birkoff asked, feigning confusion.

Michael smiled, then turned and left them.

"Yeah, well, I just felt sorry for you, that's all" Birkoff called after him.

"Sorry's the word. He whipped your sorry ass Birkoff" Walter laughed, heading off to munitions.

Birkoff sat glumly, watching Michael climb the stairs towards Operation's loft. It was true, despite his best efforts Michael had beaten him comprehensively in every game for the last four weeks. Glancing around quickly he hit the icon hidden in the top corner of his screen. He settled down in his seat, eyes glued to the screen as he moved swiftly down dark corridors, guns blazing, pleased to withdraw into this fantasy world where battles could be terminated at a whim. He glanced back up as Michael entered Operations loft. Not everyone was so lucky.

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

"Welcome back Michael" Operations announced smugly "and ... congratulations." He nodded, his mouth curved in a smirk as he pulled a cigar out and lit it. Blowing out a contented stream of smoke he glanced at Madeline before turning his attention back to Michael.

"Thank you" Michael replied softly, an imperturbable expression on his face, his eyes calm and fixed on Operations.

"How are Elena and the baby?" Madeline asked, coming to stand near him.

"Fine, thank you" he replied courteously, not shifting his gaze from Operations. "You wanted to see me."

"Yes, Michael. The Vacek mission. I understand you've made no real progress in drawing him out."

"No" Michael responded, a challenging glint in his eye. Designed to irritate, Operations noted. Mission accomplished.

"You've been in contact with one of his people over the last couple of weeks, has that produced anything?" Madeline asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against Operations desk.

"A measure of trust," Michael replied, looking at her for the first time since entering the office.

"That's something, at least" Operations said dourly. He started pacing, hands thrust into pockets, anger simmering on the surface. "I have Oversight breathing down my neck on this Michael, I want results, something more than a few chats over the phone and the promise of a Christmas card."

"Perhaps we could try for triplets next time, or an inoperable brain tumour, perhaps a long lost brother high up in the Mossad" Michael offered, voice soft and indifferent.

Operations turned and in two angry steps was in Michael's face. "I know you have been under considerable stress so I will let that comment slide, but don't push me Michael." He held the younger mans gaze for a moment, incensed by the cool, disapproving look her returned at this overt display of emotion. "You're profile is flawed, fix it" Operations whispered menacingly, struggling to reign in his anger.

"It is not my profile to fix," Michael responded smoothly. "If it was, I doubt we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"You are out of line" Operations hissed, a finger jabbing Michael in the chest. "Be careful, Michael" he warned.

"I think that's enough" Madeline said disdainfully, stepping between them and directing Michael towards a chair. He moved back, but refused to sit. Madeline sighed and turned to Operations who had retreated to the window, puffing mechanically on the cigar.

"I'll work with Michael to update the profile with this latest information, you should have it by the end of the day. Oversight can then review our suggestions. There is nothing more to be gained from discussing it now." Madeline turned towards Michael and he nodded his agreement.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"No, it is not all," Operations snapped, watching the activity below him as he focussed on getting himself under control. He turned to face Michael, taking his time to remove his glasses and place them in a pocket before leaning back against the window.

"I want to discuss your work program" he finally stated.

Michael nodded in assent, waiting for him to continue.

"You're back on the mission roster, as of now. You'll divide your time between field command, tactical oversight and training duties. I expect you to run oversight from here, unless it's absolutely necessary for you to be on site. That decision will be up to me. It's all in your schedule, I've sent it through to your station."

"Training duties?" Michael repeated, a small frown creasing his forehead. "This usually takes up very little of my time."

"Maybe in the past" Madeline smiled. "It didn't require much time because you were only approved to undertake inductions and, when required, assist with advanced combat training. Oversight has requested a review of our training procedures. As a result your involvement from now will be more ... hands on."

"Meaning what?"

"You've been assigned new material" Operations replied, grinning. "It will be waiting for you in the White Room at 16:00 today. Madeline has the paperwork. She'll be assisting you with the preliminary work-up. I want to see a training schedule on my desk by midday."

"Fine" Michael responded thoughtfully.

Madeline picked up a disc and a set of photos from Operations desk and handed them to Michael.

"I'll meet with you shortly to discuss a suitable program. Her name is Nikita."

Michael glanced briefly at the photo's then nodded at Madeline before turning and walking towards the door.

"Michael" Operations called out, watching him pivot and turn gracefully around. "You haven't done this in a while." He stubbed the cigar out and took a step closer, a feral grin spreading across his face. "I'll be watching, as will they. Another failure won't look good on your record."

Michael's eye's roamed sedulously, from Madeline to Operations, then back again. He held Operations mocking gaze for a long moment before he started to nod his head solemnly, drawing his mouth into a thin line, eyes narrowing.

"Yes" he hissed softly, "I understand." His face relaxed, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, eye's gleaming, enjoying the look of confusion and anger on his superior's face.

Operations moved restlessly, finally standing to attention, drawing his jacket back and thrusting his hands in to his pockets. "What do you 'understand'" he mimicked dismissively.

"Vacek."

"Your point?"

"If I fail ... you fail" Michael whispered, the smile disappearing from his face.

He turned and left, hearing the sound of Operations thumb striking furiously against the flint of his cigarette lighter.

Finis

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