"You will have to learn to look closer, Adam, or you will never see fairies and angels for yourself. Didn't you see the way her hair shone as bright as the sun, and with one smile the wind stilled and the clouds disappeared. She was an angel" Michael sighed.
Adam tugged at his sleeve, pulling him back from the scene that had been playing repeatedly in his head since their camping trip last week. "I did watch her Michel, you made us sit there forever just watching her. She was just a girl, I didn't see any of those other things. Now it's my turn, I want them to use my hair in the harps too Michel" he urged, leaning his head forward.
Michael smiled as he reached across and plucked a hair from Adam's head, rubbing a finger on the spot where he pulled as he placed the hair in his brothers outstretched hand.
"Now go and put them in place, then come inside and get cleaned up. Maman will be home from shopping soon and we will be going out to dinner."
"Dinner, yum" Adam beamed, standing carefully so as not to disturb his precious cargo. "Will mamie be coming with us?"
"Yes, I think grand-maman will come along. When did you start calling her that?"
"Just today, while we were playing outside. She gave me a big hug when I did and then wouldn't let me look at her for a little while."
Michael straightened Adam's shirt and retied the shoelace that had come undone.
"What is it Adam?" he asked, observing the troubled frown on his bothers small face.
Adam paused for a moment, his mouth screwing up in thought. "Why did mamie never come and visit us when we lived in the other place?"
"I'm not sure Adam, something happened a very long time ago, before I was born, before maman and papa were married even. It was something very sad, and maman left their home to be with papa. We should just be glad that they have this chance to make up for all that has happened" he smiled, smoothing the hair off Adam face.
"Yes" Adam returned his smile, " who could not love our maman." With that Adam sprinted from the room.
Michael followed his progress as he ran down the hall, then heard the clomp of his feet as he raced down the stairs. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could summon the same enthusiasm that Adam engendered for even the simplest things in life.
************************
"Awwgh ... don't feel bad sugar, it could have happened to anyone. We should just be grateful that no one was hurt" Walter said reassuringly as they found a parking space and Paul eased the car in. "And grateful that the smoke alarm worked" he added with a grin.
Paul had to suppress a laugh, thinking of the scene of chaos they had just left behind. The dinner Nikita had spent the whole day preparing lay in ruins in the sink. They had been sitting in the lounge room chatting when the smoke alarm in the kitchen sounded. He and Walter had burst into action, racing into the kitchen to find flames erupting from the grill, encircling the pot she had simmering on the stove, too late to save the curtains. After they had doused it all in water, the noxious smell had driven them from the kitchen. Nikita had stood watching, incredulous, then burst into tears.
Paul had eventually managed to calm her down and work a smile out of her, after promising for the hundredth time not to tell Birkoff. Walter had suggested he would treat them for dinner and, leaving the windows open to let the smoke escape, they had ended up here, down at The Pier, Walters's favourite restaurant. Walter greeted the manager effusively as soon as they stepped in door, letting loose with a few phrases of very bad Italian. They were being shown to their table when Walter suddenly stopped, shaking his head.
"Well I'll be" he smiled. He walked over to one of the tables, holding his hands up in greeting as an attractive, elderly woman stood to greet him.
"Hello Walter" she greeted him in very precise English, lightly kissing his cheek. "How long has it been?"
Nikita and Paul traded a surprised look, glancing at the equally surprised faces looking up at them from the table.
"A long time Adrian, maybe ten years, you're still as beautiful as ever."
"And you're still quite the charmer" she smiled. "What brings you in from the wilderness?"
"The prospect of some fishing tomorrow." He glanced around the table, his grin stretching even wider. "Well there's a couple of familiar faces" he laughed, "the intrepid French explorers."
"Hello Walter" Michael replied, his eyes darting curiously to the blonde haired girl standing behind him.
"Howdy Walter" Adam giggled.
"Good one squirt, you remembered" Walter grinned, "you remember the other one?"
Adam nodded eagerly. "How's it hangin'" he replied, his French accent stumbling over the words.
"Thank you for helping with their language development Walter" Adrian smiled dourly. She turned and gestured towards Madeline, "this is my daughter, Madeline, and, of course, you've met my grandsons, Michael and Adam."
"Very pleased to meet you Madeline. They're two fine boys you have there."
"Thank you Walter" Madeline smiled, "you made quite an impression on them, as well."
"Where are my manners" Walter said, standing back and ushering Paul and Nikita forward. "This is an old buddy of mine, Paul Wolffe, and his daughter Nikita."
"Hello, nice to meet you" Paul said politely, extending his hand in greeting to Adrian and Madeline.
They shook hands with him and greeted him in turn. Nikita smiled shyly, embarrassed to feel her cheeks flush as Michael's gaze met hers.
"Hi" she managed to finally blurt out.
"Hello" Michael replied softly.
The word seemed to drift slowly towards her, then finally reaching its destination it fell with a heavy thud to pit of her stomach. Nikita looked away, feeling the blush on her cheeks deepen even more.
"Well, we better let you get on with your dinner" Walter said happily. "It's been wonderful seeing you again Adrian, we should make a time, catch up."
"That would be wonderful" Adrian smiled, "I'll give you my number, it's not listed." She bent down to pick up her bag and find a pen.
"Have you eaten yet?" Paul asked, glancing at Madeline.
"No, we were still looking over the menu" she replied.
"Well then, why don't I see if a larger table is available and we could join you" Paul suggested, "that is if you want some company?"
Madeline glanced at Adrian and the boys, seeing no resistance to the suggestion she smiled. "That would be very nice, thank you."
"Great" Walter responded, rubbing his hands together and giving Nikita a nudge forward with his elbow. "What a bit of luck your dinner didn't turn out Niki" he winked at her, following the exchange of looks between her and Michael.
Nikita raised her eyebrows at him, silently pleading with him not to embarrass her. Walter gave her a reassuring smile as he grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Now, Paul, where's that waiter? I'm getting hungry" Walter grinned.
"Me too" Adam agreed enthusiastically.
"OK squirt, you just hold your horses and Paul and I will see what we can rustle up."
Adam shrugged his shoulders and grinned, not understanding what Walter had said but trusting that it would mean dinner would soon be on the way.
***********************
"Well, that was very pleasant" Paul remarked as they were driving home. "They're nice people."
"Yeah" Walter agreed, "how's that for a series of coincidences, meeting the boys last week, then running into Adrian and the family tonight, and Michael starting at Niki's school on Monday. Sure is a small world sometimes."
"How did you meet Adrian?"
"I met her husband, Roger, and his best friend George, while I was stationed in the Pacific in the '50's. He was working with the RAF Intel unit on our post, closest thing to James Bond I'd ever seen. We struck up a friendship, kept ending up in the same places. We stayed in touch after he left the Service and went to work for the UN, he served as an honorary on a few NATO committees. He and Adrian were living in London, then Montreal. They moved he and Adrian out here about 10 years ago, when he retired from the UN. They wanted to keep him on as a consultant to the NATO Oversight Committee. George is the current Chair."
"That's the *George* you and Adrian were talking about tonight? Holy shit Walter, I wish you had of told me."
"Why, so you could do some suck-up spiel about what a great guy he is in the hope that she might pass it on?" Walter smiled.
"No, of course not, it's just that it would have been good to know."
"Well I'm telling you now. What difference would it have made? After humiliating yourself doing the brown nose two step you still would have still gone back to chatting up Madeline."
Walter heard a giggle from the backseat.
"I wasn't chatting her up" he scoffed, "we were just talking." He glanced in the rear-view mirror, catching Nikita's huge smile as she sat looking out the window in the back seat, curiously silent. "So where's Roger now, I haven't seen his name on the Oversight list since I've been stationed here" he asked, getting the conversation back on to more comfortable territory.
"Roger died a few years ago. I haven't seen Adrian since then, she sort of turned into a hermit after he died."
"Is Madeline her only child?"
"What are you doing here Admiral, gathering intel?" Walter grinned.
Paul shrugged, smiling. "No, just curious. They're an interesting family."
"There was another daughter, Sarah, but she died just after Madeline finished high school. Some freak accident at home, I'm not sure of the details. Madeline married some guy and went to live in Paris, went to university there. Roger and Adrian didn't have much to do with her after that. Not really sure what happened, Roger rarely talked about it, but I know he was pretty cut up about it all. Guess it must have been Adrian's decision rather than his. He got George to keep a watch on her through his network." Walter sighed, about to say more but then thinking better of it. There were some things he needed to find out for himself, if he was so inclined. "Anyway" he continued, "it's nice to see them back together again."
Paul nodded in agreement. "You're pretty quiet back there princess, did you enjoy yourself?"
"Yeah, it was OK" Nikita replied nonchalantly.
"She's all talked out" Walter laughed, "that poor boy didn't stand a chance once you got warmed up sugar."
"I was just telling him about school and stuff, no biggie" she shrugged.
"Will Michael be in any of your classes?" Paul asked.
"A couple" she mumbled.
"He seems nice, maybe a bit shy?" Paul pressed.
"Yeah, he was nice ... and shy" Nikita replied, twirling a strand of hair in her fingers.
"It's good there'll be someone there he knows. Starting school in a different town can be daunting, let alone in a different country" Paul observed. "Maybe you should have offered to pick him up on Monday morning, on your way in with Carla and Mick."
"Maybe" she mused, looking thoughtfully out the window. "I told him I'd meet him at the Admin Office before classes start" she added after a while.
"Well, that was very nice of you princess" Paul smiled wryly, 'I'm proud of you."
"It's no trouble" Nikita replied, finding it impossible to keep the grin off her face.
************************
"Michael, can you carry Adam up to bed?" Madeline asked as she unlocked the back door to let them into the kitchen. "I'll be up in a minute."
"Oui" he replied, lifting the dead weight of Adam from her hip and resting him back against his body. "Bon nuit, grand-maman" he called as he headed up the stairs.
"Bon nuit Michael" Adrian called after him.
Madeline locked the door behind them. "I enjoyed that, Walter is quite a character."
"Yes he is, that's why your father had such a soft spot for him" Adrian agreed.
"George told me the story after the boys came back from their camping trip full of tales of Walter" Madeline smiled. "Well, I think I'll head off to bed, it's been a long day."
Adrian turned out the lights and followed Madeline out of the kitchen.
"Good night Madeline" Adrian smiled as they reached the stairs.
Madeline kissed the cheek her mother offered and then started slowly up the stairs. On the second step she paused, turning to see her mother watching her, a curious expression on her face.
"What is it?"
"Don't you want to know about Paul?" Adrian asked, smiling enigmatically.
Madeline stood watching her for a moment before returning her smile. "Yes" she replied softly.
"Good, we can have a chat in the morning, good night."
"Good night" Madeline echoed, laughing quietly as she continued climbing the stairs.
One of the curses of being single she would have to get used to again, Madeline thought. Everyone looked at you as though you were a predator, your only mission in life to capture and secure a mate. She wasn't ready for anything other than friendship. Not yet, maybe not ever the way she was feeling just now. Twenty years of marriage to Charles had left her emotionally drained and empty. All she wanted to do was find a way to get some balance back in their lives; Michael, Adam and her, that was her world now, perhaps Adrian too if she let them. Though Paul had certainly held her attention for much of the evening and he seemed very charming. Not now Madeline, she sighed.
She walked quietly into Adam's room. Michael was undressing him, fumbling with his shoelaces and then giving up in frustration and pulling the shoe off. She had been entranced watching him with Nikita tonight, how he smiled and listened attentively as they discussed school and the things Nikita had been doing over the holidays. He hadn't said much, but then he hadn't really needed to. Nikita seemed more than happy to do all the talking and her effervescence seemed to hold him spellbound. She knew he had been fretting about starting school, and her fear that this worrying would just exacerbate his self imposed isolation had been eating away at her ever since the meeting with his Principal. When she had overheard the two of them making plans to meet on Monday morning it had almost made her cry and give Nikita a big hug.
She walked up behind Michael and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "I'll finish this, you go to bed" she directed, steering Michael towards the door.
"OK" he yawned, rubbing his hand over his face.
"Bon nuit darling, sleep well" she whispered, brushing the back of her hand against his cheek. She felt the warmth of his skin and seized his arm as he turned to go out the door. Placing a hand lightly against his forehead she whispered "your skin is very warm, are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine, I think I'll have a shower before bed" he smiled wearily, removing her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, "bon nuit maman."
"Good night" she whispered, turning her attention back to Adam. She quickly removed his clothes, then slipped his pyjamas on. He was like a dead weight, fast asleep. She tucked him into bed and kissed his soft pink cheek. Feeling, as she always did at this precise moment, a sense of utter contentment with her life.
She sighed and headed back down the hall. Hearing the shower still going she went into Michael's room and turned back the covers on his bed, leaving the soft cotton singlet and boxer shorts he wore to bed folded neatly on his pillow. She turned on his bedside light and with a quick glance around made her way to her own bed.
******
The sensation of small fingers tapping on her cheek brought her instantly awake to find Adam's face looming above hers in the gloom. She fumbled for the light switch and blinked as the soft light illuminated the space around them.
"What is it Adam?" she asked gently as she glanced at the clock, nearly four am.
"I have to go to the toilet" he whispered urgently.
Madeline looked puzzled for a moment. "OK, do you need me to go with you? Did something scare you?" she asked, trying to work out the problem.
"No, Michel's in the bathroom, he told me to go away when I tried to get in."
Madeline nodded. "That's OK honey, you can use my bathroom" she whispered, getting up and leading him over to the door of her ensuite. "In you go, I'll wait here." She directed Adam in and then waited by the door until she heard the toilet flush. She opened the door and turned on the tap for him to wash his hands.
As he was drying his hands he looked up at her with a troubled frown and whispered, "he was making funny noises."
"Who was?" she asked as she tucked his pyjama top into his pants and led him out into her bedroom and back to his bed.
"Michel" Adam stated, glancing at the closed door of the bathroom as they passed it on the way back to his room.
"Maybe he was singing or humming a song" she replied cautiously, unsure of what Adam might have walked in on.
"I don't think so" Adam replied thoughtfully as she tucked him in.
"Well don't you worry about it, darling. You just go back to sleep now, I'll check on him." She kissed his forehead and smiled, stroking her finger slowly down his nose and across his eyebrows. His eyes closed and after a few minutes he had fallen back into sleep.
************
With a weary yawn and stretch, Madeline stood and pulled the door to Adam's room ajar behind her. The bathroom door was still closed, light spilling out in a narrow strip from underneath to cast shadows in the dark hallway. Turning on the light, she peered into Michael's room. His bed was empty, the covers tossed in a heap on the floor. She wandered over and felt the sheets, damp and cold as though he had not been in bed for some time. Gazing around the room again she went a stood by the bathroom door. She put her ear to the door and after a moments hesitation rapped lightly.
"Michael, is everything all right?" she called softly.
There was no verbal answer, just the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. She burst through the door to find Michael heaving over the rim of the toilet. She threw a hand towel under the tap in the bath and then ringing it out went and knelt beside him, wiping it over his pale face and neck. She pushed the soggy hair off his forehead and placed her hand there, feeling the heat and moisture pouring from his skin. His arms and legs jerked slightly as he shivered uncontrollably, skin shimmering with sweat.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, maman" he mumbled in French, looking at her pleadingly before turning his head into the toilet again, his body shuddering with the dry heaves.
She kissed his forehead then ran back into the hall and pulled a cotton blanket from the linen cupboard, stopping in her bedroom on the way back to retrieve her medical bag. When she returned to the bathroom a few moments later, Michael was slumped against the wall, pressing his face on the tiles as he tried to control his ragged breathing. Wrapping him lightly in the blanket she reached behind and put the plug in the bath, turning the taps to fill it with warm water.
Opening her medical bag she removed the thermometer and placed it in his mouth. Grabbing at the pile of towels on the shelf by the sink, she spread a couple behind Michael and then, keeping the blanket wrapped around him, eased him down onto the floor. Her fingers gently probed his abdomen, searching for and thankfully not finding any obstructions. Underneath her fingers his muscles were knotted tight as springs. While trying to be as gentle as possible, he still let out small, panting breaths as she examined him.
"I'm sorry darling" she whispered, finishing up and wrapping the blanket around him. She reached for the thermometer in his mouth. "101, you're running a fever" she commented. Wetting the towel again she wiped his face and neck, noticing the bruise emerging on his forehead. "How long has this been going on?" she asked.
He rolled gingerly onto his side, curling into a ball and wrapping his hands around his stomach. Madeline sat on the floor beside him, rubbing his back.
"How long?" she urged, "ten minutes, an hour, two hours."
He shrugged and closed his eyes, completely exhausted. "A few hours" he murmured, "maybe less, I'm not sure." He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, "I think I fell asleep for a while after the first time."
"Did you fall asleep or did you pass out? Do you remember hitting your head?" she asked gently as she turned and tested the temperature of the water in the bath.
"I don't know, I just woke up, on the floor here. I was ...." He suddenly clutched at his stomach as his other hand reached for the rim of the toilet to pull his body up, dragging his head over the rim as his body shook again with the dry heaves.
"Has it just been vomiting?" Madeline held his hair back, wiping his face with the towel.
Michael nodded his head slowly. "Yes, just this" he whispered shakily. He lifted his head up and turned towards her. "I don't feel very good, maman" he whispered through a pathetic smile, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
"No" she smiled in agreement, "you don't look very good either." She wiped his face again and then pushed the blanket off his shoulders, tugging at his singlet. "Come on, you can't stay with your head in the toilet all night, get these soggy clothes off and get in the bath. It will help to relax you and you'll feel better if you're clean before you go back to bed." She helped him off with his clothes and then manoeuvred him into the bath.
"I won't bother asking why you didn't call me hours ago, it's just lucky Adam had to get up" she admonished. "Honestly Michael, you think you can handle everything yourself. Why can't you ever ask for help when you obviously need it?"
Michael shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the warm water and closing his eyes. Madeline passed him some soap and a face washer and he made a half hearted attempt to wash himself. While he was doing that, she went to his room and found a soft tshirt and a pair of boxers for him. Then back in the bathroom she emptied a sachet of glucose and electrolyte solution into a glass of water and mixed it up, then prepared an injection of a sedative that would help relax his cramping muscles.
"Here darling, drink this" she urged, passing him the glass and helping steady his hand as he lifted it to his mouth. He drank it down in slow gulps. "Do you think you could drink some more?" she asked hopefully when he had finished. He shook his head. "That's OK, you can have more after you've had some sleep."
She picked up the soap from where he had left it on the rim of the bath and finished washing his back, then rinsed his hair where it was sticky from sweat and vomit. She held out a hand to steady him as he stood up slowly. Draping a towel around his shoulders and his waist, she helped him dry himself with another, then steadied him while he pulled on the clothes she had brought in.
"Do you think you can make it back to bed?" she asked.
"Yes" he replied, then thought for a moment before adding "with some help."
Madeline smiled. Grabbing her medical bag and a towel in one hand, she slipped an arm around his waist. "Come on, we can make" she smiled encouragingly, as she urged him slowly forward. "You can sleep in my bed" she insisted softly as they walked slowly down the hall, "yours is a mess. I'll fix it up in the morning. Lets just hope Adam doesn't wander in to sleep with you tonight" she chatted lightly as they finally made it into her bedroom.
Michael stumbled beside her, one hand moving to his mouth and the other to his stomach as a wave of nausea hit him again. Madeline sat him on the edge of her bed and held a towel under his mouth, rubbing his back as his body shook with the effort of vomiting up the glass of water and rehydration solution he had just drunk. She cursed silently under her breath that she hadn't given him the muscle relaxant beforehand to avoid this, but she hadn't been sure she would be able to carry him back to bed on her own if it affected him quickly. When he was finished she placed the towel on the floor and retrieved another from her bathroom. She mixed up some more rehydration solution in a glass of water and carried it out with her.
Michael was curled up on his side on the edge of the bed, looking deathly pale and exhausted. She felt his cheek and was pleased to note that at least his skin felt cooler. She lifted up his shoulders and held the glass to his lips.
"Drink a little, you need the fluid. You'll feel better when you wake up."
"Non" he mumbled, pushing it away.
"Just a little" she coaxed, putting it back to his lips. He swallowed a couple of mouthfuls and then collapsed back on the bed. Retrieving the syringe she had prepared and a sterile swab from her medical bag, she rolled him gently onto his stomach then pulled down the waistband of his shorts and rubbed the swab on a point just below his hip. She inserted the needle smoothly into his muscle with well-practiced efficiency, then withdrew it and rubbed the swab over the needle mark and pulled his shorts up.
"That's just to help you relax, darling, now you need to get some sleep" she whispered soothingly, tucking his legs under the bed covers and pulling the covers around his chin. She sat beside him on the bed, running her fingers through his damp hair and gently rubbing his back, just as she used to do when he was a baby.
"What a night its been for you" she spoke softly, watching as his eyes blinked slowly then closed and his breathing relaxed, "running into Walter again, and meeting Nikita. She seems very nice, I think you thought so too, and now you'll have a friend at the school and maybe you won't feel quite so alone." She sighed, feeling the tears start to drift slowly down her cheeks. Feeling the need to keep talking to him, although he was asleep, she continued. "Maybe, just maybe, in time you'll put away the sadness of the past and rediscover what its like to wake up each day to a happiness that doesn't fade under the shadows of memory. I wish you would let me help you, but maybe you're right, maybe you have to do it by yourself. You're the most frustratingly stubborn person." She let out a quiet laugh and leant down to kiss his cheek, "just like me, just like my mama."
Her hand moved in a slow circle on his back, then changed direction to lightly scratch in downward strokes before moving back to circles.
"Do you remember, we used to sit and do this when you were a little boy, just the two of us, lost in our own little world" she said quietly, staring into the distance. "You would sit so peacefully on my knee, holding my hand, and I would rub your back, just like this. Your father used to joke that I was hypnotising you. Perhaps I was, just as your placidity and devotion used to hypnotise me. We would talk to each other, our voices soft so only we could hear, about anything and nothing. Making even the most trivial things seem special." She closed her eyes for a moment, blinking back the tears. "They are beautiful, perfect moments of memory that I will always treasure. I wonder do you remember them that way?"
Michael's soft reply surprised her.
"Yes, I remember" he mumbled, the words slurred and barely audible.
She glanced down at him, his eyes were closed, his breathing slow. "You should be asleep" she whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair.
"I think I am."
She paused and bent down to kiss his cheek, overcome with emotion.
"I love you, nothing will ever change that."
"And if I am sick in your bed?"
She smiled and bent down to kiss his forehead. "Then I will still love you and we will all go and get into bed with Adam. There would be no room, of course. Are you feeling a bit better?"
"Yes maman" he muttered as he let out a deep breath. "I love you too, I'm sorry if sometimes I make it hard for you to see that."
"Sleep, Michel" she whispered through her tears, humming a lullaby she had sung him to sleep to too many times to remember.
*********************
Nikita leaned casually against the wall opposite the doorway to the Administration Office. Well, she had to admit, it had started out as casual. No, maybe not casual, more like indifferent. No not indifferent, she just wanted to look cool. Cool as a ... cucumber. What a stupid expression, cucumbers weren't cool, they were just dumb green chunks hanging off a bit of lettuce in a bowl. She was way more cool than cucumber. Even if she did feel like a dumb green chunk hanging off the wall. Why didn't she go with the black skirt instead of this stupid green one that made her look like she should be twirling a baton and doing the splits. It did show off her legs, so much leg that she had to be careful she didn't take too big a breath or her panties would show.
That's what had cinched the green skirt from the dozen other outfits she had tried on this morning. The Admiral had finally given up on calling her down for breakfast and brought it upstairs to her. One look from him and she knew she was on a sure thing with the green skirt. He had raised his eyebrow then looked at the pile of clothes on the bed and then looked back at her and scrunched his other eyebrow and muttered "that's it?" in reference to her skirt. Poor daddy, he just didn't understand.
Nope, cool was definitely the look of yesterday she decided, glancing up at the clock again as the bell for classes screamed over the noise in the corridor. How about angry. Yeah, that was a look. What a jerk! She should have known. Even a cute jerk is still a jerk when it's all said and done. Maybe he didn't understand her when she said she'd meet him here. Maybe he just nodded and smiled that dreamy smile because he hadn't understood a single word she'd been saying. Oh god! That was it. He's probably been wandering around the corridors looking for her. Wandering the corridors and being scoped by every skanky predator looking to accessorise with a face just like his. Just perfect!
"Nikita, the bells rung, do you think you'll be going to class some time soon?" Mr Davenport's voice boomed into her space.
"Erghhh ... ummmm, yeah Mr Davenport I was just waiting ..." she couldn't even string a sentence together. This was bad.
"Waiting for ...?" Mr Davenport prompted.
Waiting for this gorgeous French guy who's turned my brain to mush. Probably not the best response if you were thinking of answers to impress the School Principal with your intellectual capabilities. Nope, try again.
"I was ... " ... thinking of dying of embarrassment.
She was about to finish her sentence when a familiar, irritating voice said, "why Mr Davenport, she was waiting for yours truly, of course." David Fanning sidled up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
She removed his arm and took a step away.
"I find that hard to believe David, now both of you, get moving."
"Yes Sir" she replied sweetly and starting moving down the corridor. Fanning caught up to her in a couple of strides.
"Niki, you're looking hot, that outfit sure does good things for you, and me" he smirked, rubbing his crotch.
Yuck! She couldn't help the sensation that being near David Fanning was like swimming in raw sewerage. No wonder Lisa always walked around with her nose in the air. One thing was for sure, this outfit was going in the bin as soon as she got home.
"I don't know what your problem is Fanning, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce" she bit back, hating herself for taking his bait each time.
She turned to open the door of her classroom, but found his arm in front of her, blocking her way.
"Why are you such a bitch Nikita?" he whispered.
"You say that as though it's a bad thing" she purred, ducking under his arm. She opened the door, then paused. "Be a man, David, get over it!" she hissed at him before she closed the door behind her and took her seat, mumbling an apology to the teacher.
********
"Nik luv, is any of this sinking in or are your blonde deflector shields up" Mick said politely as they sat eating lunch.
"Huh?" Nikita replied. Scanning every face that entered the hall, it was starting to get depressing. No wait, it was depressing.
"I was telling you some juicy snippets I heard in the boys locker room this morning and all you can say is 'huh'?" Mick replied sullenly. "This is quality information I'm passing on, Carla, talk to the girl, she's obviously lost it."
"I can't get through, she's been like this all day" Carla said distractedly, reading from a piece of paper in front of her. "Dr Karsov for physics, that's good. Hey, what's this? Can you believe they put me Shey's history class. The guy's a complete loop. Alison told me he told his class last year that aliens had abducted him and given him an anal probe, that's why they all scored low on their mid-terms. Something about residual effects? He better not try that crap with us."
"Am I the only one listening to myself" Mick sighed.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"I give up" Mick moaned, "see you after school. I think I'll go and find a mirror and seek comfort in the familiarity of someone who's always there for me. Poor Mick." He stomped off, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"What's up with him?" Nikita asked, resting her chin on the table. Her neck was starting to hurt. She was never going to find him. He was a jerk. A dumb jerk. A, big, dumb French jerk. A big dumb, sweet, charming, handsome, French jerk. With nice eyes, don't forget the eyes.
"I don't know" Carla shrugged, still reading. "Maybe he's had an anal probe too."
************
"Dad, I'm home" Nikita called out as she dumped her bag and sports gear by the front door.
Paul wandered in, still in his uniform. "How was the first day at school?" he asked, picking up her gear and carrying it up to her room.
Nikita followed lethargically. "It sucked" she replied. "How was your day?"
Paul grinned, pushing open her bedroom door and depositing her things inside. "It sucked" he said quietly, making a space amongst the clothes on her bed and sitting down.
Nikita came and sat beside him, picking up one of the hands dangling off his knee and holding it in hers.
"How do you classes look, are you happy with your teachers this year?" he asked softly
"Yeah, they seem pretty good." She heard him sigh as he nodded his head. "What's up? Are your spies misbehaving?" she asked.
"Yeah, something like that" he sighed again, covering her hand with his.
Nikita rested her head against his shoulder. "Is everything OK daddy?" she asked softly, playing with the wedding ring he still wore on his finger.
"It will be princess, there's just a few things going on at the moment. I'll sort it out. So how was basketball practice, any new additions to the team?"
"No, same as last year, means we don't have to start over which is good. What sort of things are going on?"
"A few problems with security" he murmured, patting her hand. He smiled at her, feeling cheered by the fact she was interested. He rarely shared any of the details of his work with her. "Someone's been passing on information" he found himself blurting out.
Nikita looked up, her eyes exposing her concern. "But that's not your fault, is it?"
Paul laughed softly and put his arm around her. "Everything's your fault when you're in charge, honey. It'll be fine, we'll find whoever it is. Did you see Michael at school today?"
It was Nikita's turn to sigh. "No" she whispered softly.
"I thought you had plans to meet this morning?"
"So did I" she mumbled.
"Did you see him during the day?"
"No."
"That seems strange, doesn't it?"
"Maybe he was avoiding me" she said softly, stretching her fingers out in his big hand.
"Now why would he do that? Maybe he wasn't there, something might have happened at home. Why don't you give him a call?"
"Oh, like sure daddy, how desperate is that!"
"But don't you want to know?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then why don't you just call?"
"It's not that simple."
"Yes it is" he smiled, reaching for the phone by her bed.
"No I can't, what would I say?"
"Just ask him why he wasn't at school."
"Oh yeah, what like "Hi Michael, I prowled the halls looking for you today like a deranged hose beast but you weren't there you jerk.'"
Paul laughed, "not really what I had in mind, how about 'Hi Michael, you weren't at school today, hope everything's OK.'"
"I can't" she replied, her voice wavering.
"Yes you can."
"I don't know his number" she announced triumphantly.
"I do" he smiled.
Nikita looked up at him suspiciously, "how do you know his number?"
"It's my job, fathers have to know everything. Well?"
Nikita held his hand tight, "I guess I could just find out" she mumbled.
"That's my girl" he whispered, kissing her forehead. He dialled the number and then passed her the phone.
Nikita took a deep breath and took the phone from him.
"Hello"
"Umm ... hi Mrs Binoche .... It's Nikita Wolffe, we met at the restaurant on Saturday night, with my dad and Walter."
"Yes, of course, hello Nikita, how was your first day at school?"
"It was good, thank you. I was umm .... I was wondering if I could speak to Michael."
"He's asleep at the moment Nikita. He's been very sick, the doctor said it was a gastric bug."
"I hope he's OK now."
"Yes, he seems much better this afternoon. Adam has had a touch of it as well, he seems better today too. I was thinking it might have been something they ate at dinner on Saturday night. Michael was disappointed I made him stay home from school today, he was worried you might have been waiting for him this morning. I hope you weren't inconvenienced?"
"No, no problem. I just wanted to make sure everything was OK. Will he be at school tomorrow?"
"Yes, he should be fine by the morning."
"Well, tell him I hope he's feeling better and that I'll look out for him in the morning."
"I will Nikita, thank you. I'm sure he'll be very glad to hear that. Give my regards to your father, good bye."
"Bye Mrs Binoche." She passed the phone back to her father, a huge grin erupting on her face.
"There now, that wasn't such a big deal, was it?" Paul smiled.
"Yes ... and no. Mrs Binoche says hello."
"That's good, and it's Dr Binoche."
"Ooops ... I forgot. She's nice, isn't she?"
"Yes, Niki, she's very nice. Now that's out of the way, how about we make some plans for dinner. What do you feel like?"
"How about salad, I don't think I can burn that. Although there was that time when Jerkoff came over ..." she grinned, standing up and holding out her hand to him.
"Sounds good" he smiled as he took her hand and stood up.
"Come on Admiral, let me make you dinner while I tell you the story of this beautiful, brave princess who, against all odds, actually summoned the courage to call a guy. A real cute guy, if she does say so herself."
"Hmmm ... I don't think I've heard that story before" he mused as she led him down the stairs. "No, wait a minute. What about Mick? He's a cute guy."
"Oh daddy, you're hysterical sometimes."
*************************
Nikita ran down the corridor, checking her watch, fixing her hair, pulling her skirt down where it was riding up on her hips. Don't panic, she told herself, there's still time. As luck would have it, the Admiral had left at 0600 this morning and she'd gone back to sleep after her alarm had gone off. And, of course, she had told Carla she'd get the bus today. Why did these things always happen to her?
As she rounded the corner to the Administration Office she saw him. Leaning casually against the wall, gazing at some papers in his hand, his school bag and leather jacket resting by his leg. Looking good, she thought, in jeans and tshirt that seemed to animate each smooth curve as he shifted his position. She slowed to a walk, wiping the perspiration from her face, taking big gulps of air as she rearranged her clothing and tried to look like she hadn't just slept in a sauna overnight, fully clothed.
As she drew closer he looked up, a shy smile on his face as he pulled some hair behind his ear and stood up straight.
"Hi" she smiled, dropping her bag from her shoulder to her hands and making a quick scan of the corridor.
"Hello Nikita" Michael replied.
Her stomach did a quick flip-flop as she replayed his greeting in her head 'ello Neh-kee-tarh'. Mmmm.
"You made it today" she remarked, groaning inwardly at the lame comment.
"Yes. I was beginning to think you might have been paying me back for yesterday."
"No, I just slept in and missed the early bus."
"You look ... hot."
Nikita looked down and pulled awkwardly at her black skirt and top. Hot? Sheesh, two minutes into the conversation and he was already acting like that jerk Fanning! Hot! Her blue eyes blazed into his confused green eyes. Hot!?
"Ohhh ... you mean I'm hot, like sweaty and hot?"
Michael nodded, "yes, of course" he replied, frowning. "What did you think I meant?"
"Well, you know, 'hot', it means that you know ... you look way sexy and ready for action."
Michael nodded gravely. "I still have some things to learn. I didn't mean to be rude. You look very nice" he smiled, that shy smile again.
"That's OK" she grinned. "It can sort of be a compliment sometimes too, depending on who's saying it."
"And when I say it?"
She felt the blush rise in her cheeks. "I don't mind when you say it. But 'nice' is good too."
Michael kicked the toe of one of his boots against the other. "Good" he whispered.
"I umm ... I talked to your mother last night, she said you'd been sick or something." Changing the subject before she turned into a hot sweaty beetroot.
"Yes, she told me you called" he answered softly, reaching down and slinging his bag and jacket onto his shoulder.
"So ... ummm ... you're OK now?"
"Yes."
"Well ... good."
"Thank you."
"The bells about to ring" she observed, looking at her watch. "You done with all the forms and stuff?"
He looked at her, puzzled. "Forms and ... stuff?" he asked, his eyebrows bunching up into this cute little V shape. "I don't know what this means?"
She smiled, rolling her eyes. "You know, all the bits of paper Mr Davenport gave you to sign and take with you."
Michael nodded, returning her smile. "Ahhh... yes, I'm done with the forms and stuff."
"So do you have your timetable. That's one of the bits of stuff."
Michael grinned, glancing down at his boots for a moment before looking up at her, his eyes glistening with amusement. She noticed they were like the colour of a stormy sea, sort of green and grey and blue, full of emotion and rolling over you until you had to struggle to the surface to breathe.
"Yes, I have the stuff" he answered, holding up the piece of paper he had been reading."
Yup, you have the stuff, she thought. She angled herself so she stood beside him, her arm briefly touching his as she read from the piece of paper he held in front of him. His arm felt warm and soft and hairy. She moved her arm back so it touched his again.
"Your first class is Physics with Dr Karsov. My friend Carla is in her class. Come on, I'll show you where to go and introduce you to her. After that you have math with Mr Hillinger, he's a jerk but he knows his stuff. I'm in that class."
Michael smiled, "good, I like math."
She looked at him, a huge grin on her face. "You are strange, aren't you?"
"That's what my maman tells me."
"You should listen to her. C'mon, Karsov gets real antsy if you're late or she thinks you're dicking with her, and being the new boy you don't need that sort of grief."
She led him down the hall, pointing out where things were and the classrooms he would be in later in the day. She had the impression he didn't hear a word she was saying, he was just staring at her with this dopey, wide-eyed grin on his face. She sort of liked it, she felt a bit dopey herself. And hot, just being near him.
PART THREE
"So what's going on Mowen?" Paul asked as he took a seat beside Birkoff on the lounge.
"Thanks for letting me meet you here Sir. Sorry I had to be so cryptic on the phone" Mowen replied, pulling a disc and some papers out of his briefcase and laying them on the coffee table in front of them. He pushed a bundle of papers across until they rested in front of Paul.
"I finished the primary sweep, the results are in front of you" Mowen began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "It's taken longer than I would have liked, but your directions were to be discrete."
"And?" Paul asked.
"Everyone seems to have checked out except a new transfer from the Brussels Office, Jurgen."
"He was assigned to your personal staff three weeks ago Admiral" Birkoff clarified.
"In what capacity?"
"DPC liaison, he cycled in on temp transfer to replace Goellner and Sarris."
"What have you uncovered, Mowen?" Paul asked.
"Some grey zones in his background file, seems he did a stint in Special Ops. The records look like they've been sanitised. The file indicates he did his tour in Air Command Italy, but we have him on the grid in Prague and London over that time. His cycle here has coincided with some deep channel cables we identified from this office to DPC HO. I have people working on it now, but it seems he's broken protocol and set up a secure line outside SOP. Traffic seems to be infrequent. I'm advised we should be able to intercept and decode within the next 48 hours. We could use Birkoff's help on this, Sir."
"Yes, of course" Paul replied, digesting this extraordinary information. "Is that all?"
"Ahh ... no, not quite Sir, and this comes to the reason why I asked to meet you in your home, rather than the office. We found listening devices planted in your office and a tap on your utility line. Nothing on the secure lines, though it looked like they had been tampered with in an attempt to divert."
"I see" Paul sighed, leaning forward to flick through the papers in front of him. He took his glasses off and rubbed wearily at the bridge of his nose. "Any idea how long they've been in place?"
"We do a routine review of security Red Zones on the first of each month. The last one was clear, so I think it's safe to assume they were planted in the last 14 days."
"We had a Joint Standing Committee meeting on the 3rd, Petrosian and Zalman were both here for that" Birkoff offered.
"Is that who you think might have planted the devices?" Mowen asked.
"Yes, either them or one of their lackeys. Birkoff found a solid lead last week that implicates Petrosian in an attempt to discredit one of our current projects" Paul replied wearily.
Mowen whistled softly under his breath. "Any ideas what intel they're after? It would make it easier to follow up if I knew."
"Speculation, but it seems to be related to the P15 project" Paul responded, standing and walking over to stand by the fireplace. "Did you find any other anomalies?"
"There was some active surveillance on the Command hub and Analysis, but we routinely find tags on those segments of the network" Mowen grinned. "As you always say Admiral, nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool."
"Thanks for reminding me Mowen" Paul smiled. "So do I correctly assume I'm the target of the current breach?"
"Yes, it would seem so, Sir."
Paul sighed and rested an elbow on the mantelpiece above the fireplace, staring vacantly at the framed photos scattered along the shelf.
Birkoff leant forward and quickly scanned the papers on the table. He scratched his head, looking up at the Paul. "Knowing that you're the target could work to our advantage Sir, it means their attention is focussed, offering us opportunities to find a back door."
"Provided we can find the back door in time" Paul considered, hands moving to his pockets. "But your points taken Birkoff" he continued. "We can use the devices they've put in place to our advantage. As I also say, if you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten."
Paul sat down again on the lounge, leaning back, crossing his legs. "If they want to bring me down over the P15 then let's start giving them some problems to work with. Birkoff put one of our people on the project team, Taylor perhaps? Initiate a leak the project's fallen behind schedule because of poor results in the beta testing. The NAC review is in four weeks, which should give us a couple of weeks to play things out. Schedule a briefing for Thursday, in my office, we'll work up the profile tomorrow. Mowen, I'd like you to be in on that."
"It would be my pleasure, Sir" Mowen smiled.
"Good. I'll speak to the Secretary before we proceed, best not to leave too much to chance."
"Mowen and I will work up a brief for you Sir. When do you want the meeting?" Birkoff asked.
"As soon as possible, he's doing a review of the NATO quarterlies at the Edmonsen Base on Wednesday, see if you can find a pocket."
Birkoff was about to reply when they heard the front door open and close.
"Yo Admiral" Nikita called out.
Paul smiled, casting a cautionary look towards Birkoff and Mowen. "In here Niki" he called.
Nikita bounced into the room, stoping behind her father and leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"Have a good day?" Paul asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Mmmm ... yeah" she sighed. "Hi Birkoff."
Birkoff hesitated for a moment, waiting for something more. When it didn't come, he looked up at Nikita, surprised. "Hi Niki" he replied tentatively.
"Niki, do you remember Mowen, you might have met him at Walters place a few weeks ago?" Paul asked, gesturing towards Mowen.
"Sure, hi" Nikita smiled.
"Hello Nikita" Mowen smiled in response, standing. "Assuming that's all, I'll see you in the morning Sir?" Mowen asked, standing to attention.
"Yes, thank you Mowen" Paul replied, patting Nikita's hands and unclasping them from where they lay around his neck as he stood.
"Very good" Mowen saluted and picked up his briefcase. He nodded to Birkoff and Nikita. "I'll see myself out" he smiled, "good-night, Sir."
"Good night" Paul replied. Birkoff and Nikita echoed his reply.
"We'll, I might go up get my homework done" Nikita commented, picking up her bag from the floor. "Is Walter still coming over for dinner?" she asked.
"Yes, he should be here any minute" Paul replied.
"That's great. Birkoff, do you want to stay for dinner? We're just having pizza" Nikita smiled.
"Umm... yeah, sure" Birkoff stuttered, confused. "Gail's at her mothers tonight."
"Great, well, I'll be up in my room, daddy" Nikita beamed, leaning up to kiss her fathers cheek and then racing up the stairs.
Birkoff watched her go, then turned slowly towards the Admiral. "I hope you don't think I'm out of line here Sir, but, ummm ..., is she on some sort of medication?"
"I know, it's bizarre, isn't it? She's been like that for the last few weeks, ever since school started" Paul smiled, sitting down and picking up the papers Mowen had left behind. "She's taking French as an elective this year" he added vaguely, "she keeps reading me phrases and muttering that it's the 'language of love'".
"With all due respect Sir, she can barely manage English as a first language. All this can only mean one thing. It's a boy, isn't it Sir?"
"I do believe so Birkoff."
"Do you want me to put a tag on him?" Birkoff grinned.
Paul laughed, "tempting, but ... I think the best way to handle this is on a 'need to know' basis. I have the contingency plan in place."
"Of course, Sir, it's what I would have expected" Birkoff deadpaned. "Ummm... just in case in case I need to run backup?" he prompted.
"A gun and a shovel in the hall cupboard" Paul grinned.
Birkoff returned the grin with a conspiratorial wink. "Every father's failsafe. Very good, Sir."
*************************
"I think that will be enough, darling, if you invite any more we'll have to move to a bigger house" Madeline laughed as Adam crawled into her lap, letting out a yawn as he snuggled back against her. She pushed her chair out a little from the table, giving him more room.
"How many people are on the list maman?" he asked again, a hand curling up and into her hair and gently stroking.
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Let's see, we have fourteen of your friends from school, and Larry, Rosie, Susan, and Holly from your music class. And then there will be grand-maman and George, and Michael and I. I haven't been able to get in touch with Walter yet, you still want him to come along?"
"Yes, yes, yes" Adam nodded eagerly, another yawn escaping. "Michel and I can go to his house again and tell him to come to my party."
"Who's house can we visit?" Michael asked as he wandered into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.
"Walter" Madeline replied. She wrapped her arms around Adam and leaned her cheek against his. "I think it might be a bit too far away, darling, we'll try and call him on the phone again" she said softly.
"I can try to get in touch with him tomorrow" Adrian offered, looking up from the book she was reading in her seat by the window.
"Thanks mother. Is George still happy to help set up on Saturday?"
"Yes, he's looking forward to it" Adrian replied, putting her book down on the table. "Michael close the fridge and use a glass" she directed as she strolled over to where he stood by the open fridge, drinking from the bottle of milk in his hand. She pulled a clean glass out of the cupboard and passed it to him.
"Sorry" he grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and taking the glass from her.
"If I had a penny for every time you said sorry after I tell you not to drink from bottle we would probably have enough by now to put you through university" Adrian scolded.
"But not a very good university, mamie" Michael replied softly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.
"You're probably right" she smiled, taking up a position beside him. "But I still don't like you doing it."
"I will remember next time" he promised.
"No you won't" she chided, raising an eyebrow as she turned towards him.
He leant his face towards her and kissed her cheek.
"Don't think that makes up for it" she said sternly.
"No grand-maman" Michael grinned.
"Michael will you be around on Saturday morning? I need you to pick up an order from the bakery and grocers for me" Madeline asked, smiling at their exchange. She shifted slightly, feeling Adam's weight slump against her as he fell asleep. She turned him around in her lap so he faced her and settled his body against hers, wrapping her arms around him.
"I have soccer at 9.00. I can be home by 10.30, is that too late?" Michael asked.
"No that should be fine, you can pick it up on the way home." She swivelled slightly on her chair to face Michael and Adrian. "Have you asked Nikita to come along?" she asked casually.
"No. I'm not sure she would be interested in this" Michael replied with a shrug.
"How do you know if you don't ask her?" Adrian asked, returning the milk to fridge.
Michael just shrugged again. "I have to finish my homework" he mumbled, finishing his milk and rinsing the glass.
"Please yourself" Madeline said evenly. "I've asked her father to drop by if he has time. I ran into him at the supermarket last night on my way home from work."
"Really" Adrian smiled, "that's nice." She turned to Michael where he stood at the sink. "Won't Nikita think it's rather strange if she's the only one not invited" she said, more as a statement than a question.
Michael rested his arms against the sink, head hanging down a little to hide the slight blush of discomfit in his cheeks. With a sigh he stood up and turned slowly to Adrian.
"I'll ask" he whispered, a small smile on his lips.
"Good, now go and finish your homework" she directed, waving him away with her hand.
Michael brushed his hand against her arm and walked over to Madeline. He kissed Adam's head and then Madeline's cheek.
"Bon nuit maman, do you want me to take Adam up to bed?"
"Yes, thank you" she smiled softly, standing and passing Adam to him. "Bon nuit" she whispered as she gave him a brief hug and kissed his forehead.
She watched as Michael carried Adam up the stairs, then turned and carried her coffee mug over to the sink. She put the few things left by the sink in the dishwasher and turned it on.
"You're very good with him" she said softly, turning to face Adrian. "Thank you."
"You know, you don't have to keep thanking me Madeline" Adrian responded, a touch of frustration in her voice. "Anything I do, I do because I want to, not out of some misplaced sense of guilt or duty. I'm too old to play games any more." She sighed and reached out to take Madeline's hand in hers. "I have done many things I regret, but I can't change those things or what happened as a result. All I can do is make my peace with the world as best I can."
"Do I bring you peace, mother?" Madeline whispered nervously, looking down at the hand that held hers.
Adrian reached up with her free hand and placed it gently under Madeline's chin. "Yes" she whispered in response, "you do, and those two precious souls you've brought into the world, and, finally, happily, into my life."
"I'm glad" Madeline replied, finally composed enough to look up into Adrian's face.
"So am I, more than you'll ever know. You've helped me to realise your fathers dying wish, and the magic of that has brought me a contentment I thought I would never know again." She smiled and wiped gently at the tears on Madeline's cheek. "It is I who should thank you, Madeline. You were the one who came to me, I can be such a stubborn old fool. I have nothing but admiration and love for the person you have become."
Adrian let go of Madeline's hand and tentatively wrapped her arms around her, feeling the instant comfort of Madeline's arms returning the embrace.
"You know I've never been good at this" Adrian whispered sadly.
"I know mama, it doesn't matter" Madeline smiled, feeling Adrian's body start to shake.
"I've missed you Maddie, I've missed ... so much" Adrian whispered in a ragged sob against her shoulder.
"Shhh ..." Madeline crooned, "we have time mama ... now, we have all the time in the world."
**************************
Paul waited patiently in the foyer, hands clasped in front of him, eyes wandering lazily over the photo's mounted on the wall. The dark timber paneling gave the room a solemn, gloomy feel, matching his mood as he took another deep breath, trying to calm himself for the meeting ahead. The meeting would only take a matter of minutes, but the outcomes would be measured in years, his years, his future.
He had been shocked by how easily Petrosian had infiltrated his defences, threatening all that he had worked so hard to build. He had always imagined himself invulnerable to the politics of personal ambition, even though his rapid elevation through the ranks had earned him his fair share of enemies. Petty jealousies had never concerned him, only doing the job and doing it well. There was no question that he would find a way through this, just as he had through all the other obstacles life had thrown in his path.
Life. All things considered, he had nothing to complain about. Nothing at all. Maybe he had just become too complacent? While he had never expected the same exacting code of honour and duty in those around him that he set for himself, he did expect a certain loyalty to their common cause. And their cause was an important one, even if the lines of defending that cause sometimes blurred right and wrong. The ends justify the means, an uncomfortable 'ism' to live with at times, but a necessary evil to get the job done.
The door at the end of the foyer opened and a well-dressed young man stepped out.
"The Secretary will see you now, Admiral. Thank you for waiting. Please" he requested, gesturing to the open door.
Paul nodded and entered the room, standing to attention as he waited for the Secretary to finish his quiet discussion with one of his aides. He'd been in this room many times, though perhaps never with this much trepidation. It was bright and sunny, compared to the outer office. A large desk, remarkably uncluttered, small conference table and chairs to his left, a closed door that led to a private bathroom. He stood still, waiting, feeling a slight wave of irritation before the man before him finally turned, smiling effusively.
"Paul, good to see you again" he greeted, holding out his hand and delivering the usual punishing handshake.
"Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice Warren."
"No problem, no problem at all. How's that lovely daughter of yours?"
"Growing up too fast."
"Ah yes, you're not telling me anything."
"No" Paul smiled, "I have enough trouble keeping up with one daughter, I don't know how you cope with four."
"The beauty of having that many, is that nothing and no-one ever takes you by surprise any more. Good training for this job" he laughed. "So" he continued, sitting down and gesturing for Paul to do the same. "I read your briefing note, Paul. I must say, combined with what I've been hearing back at the office, it doesn't look good."
"No Sir, they've done their homework. But I think we've managed to contain the situation and develop a strategy to see it rectified."
"Good. Before we get started on that, I hope you can clear up something for me. There's been some disturbing palavering in the corridors back home about problems with the P15 project. I'd like to hear you reassure me, Paul, that it's all just a decoy to blow smoke up Petrosians' ass. Though Lord knows the guy's a big enough asshole already" he laughed.
"Everything is on schedule, Warren" Paul replied stiffly, knowing where this was heading.
"And will I be able to present a working prototype to the next National Advisory Council meeting?"
"Yes."
"Well, good, I'm mightily pleased to hear that. I've got a lot resting on this, Paul. We drop the ball on this one and we loose three years of good will, not to mention a billion-dollar contract. And as much as I hate to point out the obvious, it's your head on the chopping board, not mine, if this gets away from us."
"The prototype will be ready, to specifications and on schedule" Paul replied evenly.
"Now see, that's why I like you Paul, you shoot straight. Now, what's this other crap. I gather Petrosian and his cronies are making another attempt to wrestle CID from our command to Head Office."
"That seems to be the scenario."
"And one of our own people is on it?"
"Yes, Zalman."
"Never liked him, I always believe in first impressions" he lectured grimly. "They've breached your security, Paul. Not a good look for the CID, you're the one's that are supposed to be watching them, cleaning up other peoples' messes. You're going to have to pull a rabbit out of the hat to wipe this one from your record."
"I seem to remember of little mess in your office a few months ago that we cleaned up, very quietly I might add. With due respect Sir, no-one is immune."
"Ahh yes, good of you to remind me. You have a long and distinguished career Paul. I think you could convince me to let this one slide ... if you get me that prototype to deliver to the next NAC."
"It's good to have your support, Warren" Paul replied sardonically.
"No problem. What's the point of being Secretary of Defence if you can't reward your hardest working officers, or cut them some slack when it's needed" he smiled magnanimously. "I've got 72 hours before I have to brief Oversight on all this, I suggest you get moving."
"I'll do my best, Warren."
"You always do Paul, that's why we get on so well. Keep my office updated on your progress. Let's cut protocol. In the absence of a demurrable, I'll assume all your answers are in the affirmative" he said briskly, holding out his hand and shaking Paul's hand vigorously.
"Thank you Warren" Paul smiled, retreating from the office as the Secretary picked up the phone and started talking.
Well, that could have gone better he thought to himself as he slid into the cool interior of his staff car. Then again, it could have gone a whole lot worse. He settled against the leather seat as he was driven to the airlift that would take him back to his base. He was still in the job, at least for the next 72 hours.
72 hours! He gazed out the window, staring blankly at the shapes and colours as they glided by. Looks like he was going to miss that birthday party. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He had been surprised to see her, even more surprised when she had asked him to come along to such a private, family event. The look on her face after she had asked suggested she had been just as surprised as him. And it was a nice face, a very nice face. Perhaps there was reason to hope, after all.
*************************
Michael leaned against the back wall of the gym, pulling distractedly at a hole in his tshirt as he waited for Nikita. Beside him Mick babbled on about something to do with one of this afternoons classes, as best he could guess. Michael nodded politely every so often, too preoccupied to summon the concentration he needed to follow Micks conversation.
For three days now he had been trying to find the right opportunity to ask Nikita to Adam's birthday party tomorrow. But each time, someone would interrupt them or he lost his nerve. It was frustrating him beyond belief, he had never had trouble talking to girls before. He had never had any trouble do just about anything with girls before. But Nikita ... Nikita left him feeling like an imbecile, he could barely string together a coherent thought when she was near. Lucky she was only in two of his classes.
In a last ditch effort he had dedicated this afternoon to the onerous task. He had arranged for someone else to collect Adam after school and had ditched his music lesson, only to find that she had organised a workout in the gym with Mick after school today. And so here was, feeling very much like the tag along. The sudden silence drew his attention away from his thoughts. He looked across to see Mick staring at him.
"Have you been listening to even one iota of what I've been telling you."
Michael grinned and shook his head, plunging his hands into his pockets and scrapping a shoe slowly across the floor.
"I sometimes think Michael, that the lights are on but no-one's home. I can't tell yet if it's because you're a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic, or you're just yanking my chain." Mick leaned across and stared up into Michael's face. "Ohh Michael" he sing-songed, "parlez vous Anglais?"
He never got an answer, both his eyes and Michael's were suddenly drawn to the locker room door.
Mick let out a soft whistle. "I don't know why it took you twenty minutes to change into that, cupcake."
Nikita grinned and sidled up to join them, wearing only a tiny black sports bra and lycra shorts. She leaned up against the wall next Michael. "Sorry, I ran into Alison" she offered. "Well? Shall we?" she smiled, trying to catch Michael's eye.
"Yes" Michael replied, careful to keep his gaze fixed at a point just above and to the left of her head. Terrified his body would let him down badly if he looked at her in that outfit.
"Indeed we shall, my goddess of all things tight fitting" Mick replied, bending low and waving his hand in the air and gesturing her forward.
Michael followed as Mick set Nikita up at the bench press. He slid into the machine beside them, adjusting the tension and weights then securing his feet under the padded bar. He lifted his legs slowly up and down against the weights as Mick led Nikita through a series of lifts on the bench. With a sigh he listened to them talking, each word moving him further away from his purpose.
His attention focused on Nikita, he didn't notice David Fanning step in front of him.
"Hey Meecheel, this is my machine" he grinned viciously, kicking at Michael's feet and taking a step closer. "In fact" Fanning continued in a slow draw, "this is my gym. You shouldn't even be in here when me and the rest of my guys on football team are here to work out."
Michael slowly removed his feet from under the bar, feeling his body tense and reorganise in anticipation of Fannings next move.
"Give it a rest, Fanning" Nikita called out as Mick took the weights from her. She sat up, swinging her legs off the bench and folding her arms angrily across her chest where Fanning's eyes where glued. "We can use the gym on Fridays, you and the sweathogs get it the rest of the week."
"Awghhh, isn't that cute" Fanning mocked, turning back to Michael "our pretty boy here gets his girlfriend to fight his battles for him."
"Grow up" Nikita spat, standing up.
"Nikita!" Michael said softly in warning, flicking his eyes across to her then back to Fanning.
"Yeah Neekeetah, stay out of it. This is just between me ... and you" he hissed, jabbing a finger in Michael's chest.
Michael stood slowly, keeping an eye on both Nikita and the three boys standing behind Fanning.
"We don't need a demarcation dispute here Fanning, we're more than happy to move aside and let you pump whatever it is you need to pump up" Mick said breezily, moving to stand nearer to Michael and Nikita.
"What do you want?" Michael asked quietly, staring at Fanning.
Fanning grinned, taking a step closer to Michael and swinging his fist solidly at the side of his face, connecting with Michael's cheek and eye. "That will do for starters" he smiled.
Michael's head snapped back for a moment, absorbing the blow. He heard Nikita let out a gasp as he regained his composure, setting his feet slightly apart. "I don't think you want this" his whispered in a low voice so only Fanning could hear.
"Do you ever get anything right, frenchie?" Fanning sneered, swinging at Michael again.
Michael blocked his fist and in a rapid movement kicked out high and hard at Fanning's chest while his other leg swung around and knocked his opponent's legs out from under him.
Fanning looked up at him from where he lay, momentarily shocked, on the ground. He looked over and saw Nikita's amazed stare before he quickly rose to his feet, glaring at Michael.
"You're gonna regret that" Fanning seethed, holding a hand to his bruised chest and moving closer to Michael.
"I don't think so" Michael said evenly, circling around him. He kept his eyes fixed on Fanning as fists swung out again. Michael easily ducked and blocked the blows launched wildly in his direction. He moved his arms slowly in front of him, seeing the frustration and anger building in his opponent's face.
"I don't want to fight you, we can end this now" Michael appealed, ignoring the malevolent grin on Fannings face.
"I'd listen to him if I were you, David" a deep voice interrupted as Mr Davenport stepped between them. He glanced at Michael then back to Fanning.
"I think you three should go now" Davenport nodded towards Michael, Nikita and Mick. "I'd like to have a private discussion with Mr Fanning and friends."
"Yes Sir" Nikita agreed, catching Micks look of relief as he turned quickly, heading towards the locker room. Michael made no attempt to move, instead standing perfectly still, his arms dangling at his sides. "C'mon Michael" she urged softly, taking his hand and tugging him towards the door. To her relief he turned and followed behind her, head hanging down. They were almost at the door when Davenport called out.
"Michael!"
Michael stoped, staring ahead towards the locker room for a moment before pivoting slowly to face him, his hand still in Nikita's. "Yes" he answered quietly.
"Is your eye alright?"
Michael lifted his free hand to his face where Fanning had punched him. A small smear blood appeared on his fingers from the tender point high on his cheek. His eye felt puffy and swollen.
"I'm fine" he replied.
"Alright, get yourself tidied up before you go home and Michael ... I don't want to see you doing that again" Davenport commanded. He had enough experience in the martial arts to recognise that focussed, deadly look in Michael's eye as he had squared off against Fanning.
"Yes, of course" he nodded, then mumbled a "sorry" as Nikita tugged on his hand and led him through the door of the locker room.
**************************
"We'll, I must say Michael, you are quite the man of the hour" Mick grinned. "Seeing Fanning tossed so delicately on his namesake has made my day. I don't need to tell you, my boy, that you will now be entering the hallowed company of those mythical creatures that have decked one of the football team. Legends, Michael, legends. I bow humbly before you." Mick gave a flourish of his hand, bending low in front of Michael.
Michael looked up from where he sat on one of the wooden benches, his expression a mix of incredulity and irritation.
"Shut up Mick" Nikita sighed, dabbing at Michael's face with a wet towel, cleaning up the blood that streaked down his cheek.
"I don't want you to tell anyone of this" Michael whispered.
"But Michael, you're not seeing the potential ..."
