Michael heard the restraints being unlocked before he felt them. “Hello.” Michael didn’t recognize the voice, but there had been many voices in prison. He opened his eyes slowly to see a man looking down at him. The man had eyes the color of steel that matched a hardness Michael sensed in him. His hair was blonde and cut close to his head. Michael sat up carefully while the man stood to the side assessing him. Michael measured his surroundings thoughtfully. He had no idea where he was, or if he was still in prison, he doubted it. The walls were made of concrete the only door in the room looked enormous and was made of metal. Michael glanced up and saw that huge beams supported the structure. “This place must be enormous to require such a massive support beam,” Michael thought. All thoughts fled his mind when the man finally spoke.

“I’m Jurgen. Welcome to Section One, we are the most covert anti-terrorist organization in the world. You have been ‘recruited’ from prison and I will be your trainer for the next two years. I will train you in communications, weapons, basically all forms of combat, but most importantly you will learn to obey orders without question.” Michael stared at him in wonder. He had been prepared to die in prison, but this man was insane. Michael didn’t know what kind of game he was playing so he decided to play along and maybe he could find a way to escape and get back to his cell before he was missed.

“Okay.” Michael said. “I just hope this place has better food than they served us in prison.” Michael recoiled slightly as the man walked towards him. He noticed that Jurgen held a folder in his hands. Jurgen turned his head in question at Michael asking his permission to sit on the end of the hospital bed beside him. Michael nodded reluctantly, but he was curious about the folder. Jurgen leaned against the side rather than actually sit on the gurney next to Michael. He was careful to make sure there was no physical contact, which Michael appreciated after his most recent and violent experiences in prison. Jurgen opened the folder and passed him several photos.

“What is this?” Michael asked looking at the photographs of his friend Rene Dion walking through a park? No, it was a ....cemetery? He had his arm around Michael’s sister who appeared to be crying. There were other friends and members of L’Heure Sanguine. The next photo showed them standing around a grave. How could this madman know his friends and family? What could this mean? Was it real? The photos fell to the floor and Michael stared mesmerized at the last photo in the pile. This one showed a coffin resting in a grave. The tombstone was inscribed, Michael Samuelle b.1965 d. 1984.

Michael jumped off of the gurney ignoring the feel of the cold concrete against his barefeet. He paced around the room. “What the hell is going on?” He demanded stopping to stand in front of the man called Jurgen his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“As I have already explained, we are Section One. You,” Jurgen stood up straight and walked to stand in front of Michael. He waited until Michael made eye contact, “are our newest recruit. You died three days ago in prison, a tragic suicide. These photos were taken earlier today, as you can see, you were buried and are being mourned even as we speak.” Jurgen bent and picked up the discarded photos Michael had dropped leaving him to hold the picture of his grave. Jurgen knew that the stark photo would convey more than Jurgen could tell him with words. He waited for Michael to absorb this information.

“I’m dead?” Michael asked more to himself than Jurgen. “I don’t understand this. You have faked my death to recruit me into working for the government. Which one?” Jurgen was suprised by the question, most recruits didn’t care, or think to ask. Jurgen remembered Michael was a terrorist, of course it would matter.

“We work for a consortium of government agencies that call us to do the jobs the military, or other agencies, are not able to handle. Our job is to protect innocents from terrorist organizations, such as yours,” Jurgen couldn’t help but add. “Primarily, we get our funding from the US and Canadian governments, but Great Britain and France also contribute.” Jurgen tilted his head in acknowledgment of the anger that flared in Michael’s eyes. He still had spirit and passion, ‘good’ thought Jurgen, ‘that can be used to our advantage also.’ “We follow a military chain of command. I am your immediate superior. I answer to Madeline, and the head of Section, Operations.” Jurgen decided that was enough for now. He turned and headed for the door Michael stopped him with a question, a question they all asked, “What if I refuse to cooperate? Why do you think I will be so quick to work with the oppressors? I gave my freedom to fight against people like you, and places like this,” Michael paced back and forth across the room his hands accentuating his anger. He walked closer to Jurgen, “I will not help you.” Jurgen was more amused than angered by the reaction. How much choice did one have in the end?

Jurgen smiled. Michael felt himself chilled and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. “Fine. They haven’t filled in the dirt yet. We can easily make that illusion a reality.” He opened the door and left Michael alone staring at him as the door closed with an eerie creaking. Michael was imprisoned yet again, except now he was in Hell.

“I’m impressed.” Madeline said to Jurgen when he entered her office. She sat at her desk watching Michael on a monitor. Jurgen noticed the huge dungeon-like office held even more clothes than the last time he had visited. “You handled that very well.” Jurgen raised his eyebrows in suprise. Madeline rarely gave compliments and they were never given without a reason. “I know you don’t appreciate our methods of recruitment, but after the war with Adrian, this is the most effective means of recruitment. We must replenish the operatives lost and we can’t to do that by recruiting from other agencies or the military alone.”

“I understand the why of your policy, I just feel that recruiting from the enemy is a mistake. I agree with Operations philosophy for Section and allow that it fulfills a necessary function, but assuming we can recruit criminals and bend them to our will...” he looked at Madeline pointedly, she hadn’t been his boss for that long, “I don’t know that even you can exert that much control over someone. Eventually, you will find someone who is beyond your power. Then what?” Jurgen asked.

Madeline smiled, but her eyes stayed cold, “I doubt that. One only has to be patient enough to find a weakness,” their eyes met, “then exploit it.” Jurgen tried not to let the disgust show in his face. “I don’t envy you your job, Madeline.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t.” She rose gracefully and straightened her skirt. “If you’ll excuse me I have work to do with your new material. He will be ready to start training in...” Madeline glanced at the monitor to see Michael had resumed pacing while ripping the photograph in small pieces which he scattered through the room, “three days.” Jurgen watched her walk out of the room with a mixture of revulsion and admiration. “There aren’t many like her,” Jurgen thought to himself, “Thank God!”

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

Madeline took another moment to adjust her clothing and her hair before entering the room. Michael was sitting on the gurney once again. His legs were crossed in the usual white pants he raised his head and pushed his auburn shoulder length hair away from his face with his left hand tucking it behind his ear. His white tank top revealed strong arms and broad shoulders. He was already physically strong, but that would be improved upon, Madeline noted with clinical detachment. She was impressed to see that he followed her with his eyes as she walked around the room to survey him. He glared at Madeline as she entered trying to figure out this new game they had decided to play with him. She also took note of the stiffening spine when she walked out of his line of vision. ‘Very good Michael.’ Madeline thought remaining in position behind him.

Michael refused to move from his place or to turn to acknowledge her in any way forcing Madeline to speak after several minutes of silence. She walked around the bed to stand in front of him clasping her hands in front of her standing very straight. “Hello Michael. Jurgen tells me you’re not interested in working with us.” Madeline gave him a hard stare until he was forced to meet her gaze. She allowed herself a brief moment of triumph that he had given in before continuing with her speech. “I’m here to change your mind.”

Michael decided this must be Section’s version of good cop bad cop, but which was which? “How do you plan to do that?” He asked in heavily accented English. He had decided the direct approach would be best. “More importantly, why do you want me? I’m the enemy. I’m what you fight against.” His meeting with Jurgen had raised more questions about this group, Section One, than he had answered. Neither he, nor Rene, had ever heard of such a group.

“Jurgen showed you the photographs of your friends and family at your memorial service so you realize that we know everything about you.” Madeline took a few steps closer towards him. “We know where your friends are and what your sister is doing every minute of the day.” Madeline saw a brief flicker of fear flash in his eyes before he looked away. “I also know that you were unprepared for the explosion that killed 53 people, including women and children. I’m curious Michael. Did you build the bomb yourself? Who decided to hide the bomb in a church?” Madeline resumed her pacing and felt his eyes watch her as she walked.

“I think it must have been Dion? It was dramatic, symbolic and very messy. Your group has always been much more concerned with theatrics than any real attempt to gain power. The guards noted in your file that you have nightmares and often cry out in your sleep.” Madeline stopped in front of him once again and his eyes met hers. She could see her words were having an impact. He would yield to her eventually. “Do you see their faces Michael? Can you imagine the children in their best clothes, little girls with ribbons in their hair and lace on their dresses lying in the street surrounded by rubble and blood? Or were you there watching as the bomb detonated ripping through the stone and bodies equally?” Madeline was quickly rewarded for her persistence. Michael sprang off of the gurney and pinned her to the wall.

“It wasn’t me!” He shouted. “It was supposed to be in an abandoned building. Rene told me to build it and that he had the perfect location picked out. He told me no one would get hurt.” Michael held her against the wall his forearm at her throat. His expression changed to one of horror as he realized what he had done. He let her go and collapsed on to the floor crying. “Yes. Damn you, yes!” He rocked back and forth. “I can see them when I close my eyes. I hear them scream and cry while I stand covered in blood unable to move, unable to help them.” Madeline noted he was mixing his languages, speaking English and French, she wondered if he spoke others?

“Rene told me to run, but I couldn’t. There was a little girl standing beside the body of her mother crying for help.” Michael gulped in air as tears continued to stream down his face. “She reminded me of my sister and I couldn’t leave her.” Madeline bent down beside him pushing his hair out of his face. He sat with his knees hugged to his chest and rocked gently crying softly now. “I know, Michael.” He raised his head, green eyes overflowing with tears. “I couldn’t leave her.” He whispered once again before resting his head on his knees. Madeline rose and left him sitting in the floor.

Madeline ordered Michael moved to a suitable room. Jurgen and two guards came into the chamber where Michael was waiting. He was still sitting in the floor. The tears had stopped his cheek was resting against his knees his face hidden behind his hair. Jurgen motioned for the guards to stay at the door. He walked cautiously towards Michael careful not to move to quickly treating him like a frightened animal. “Michael?” Jurgen spoke his name quietly. Michael raised his head and pushed his hair back. “Yes.” He answered. Jurgen took a breath wondering what the hell Madeline had done to him. “Madeline told me to take you to a room.” Michael rose to his feet with a grace and fluidity that Jurgen envied. He stepped towards Jurgen, “Okay,” were the only words he said. He followed Jurgen out of the room and down the hall with the guards walking behind him on either side.

Jurgen opened the door to allow Michael to enter. The room was painted white and had a bed pushed against one wall with small white shelves built into the wall next to it which held several books and a switch for the lights. A white plastic chair sat next to a matching table on the left across from the bed. Michael walked into the room straight to the bed where he sat on the side of the bed his feet resting on the floor his hands gripping the side of the bed. Jurgen hoped Madeline knew what she was doing. He shut the door locking Michael inside.

Michael heard the door shut and lock. The sound sent him back to that day and he heard the explosion mingling with cries, “NO!” He cried trying to shut the sound out. He paced around the room for several hours. Madeline and Jurgen watched him on the monitor in her office. “My God, he looks like a tiger roaming his cage.” Jurgen couldn’t believe this was the same poised man he had met with earlier. Finally, Michael collapsed onto his bed hugging the pillow to his chest. He fell into a deep sleep, occasionally he muttered words in French, but it was too soft for Madeline to make out. Jurgen had left earlier finding the body easier to deal with than the mind. Madeline was exhausted and she was finished with her preparations for tomorrow’s meeting with Michael. She put the stack of photographs in order with all the clippings giving them a final glance before heading for her own quarters for a few hours sleep.

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

“Hello.” Madeline spoke softly. She was seated in the chair across from Michael’s bed. He must have been so exhausted he hadn’t heard her enter. He raised himself carefully and rested his back against the wall. His long hair was wild from sleep and curls fell across his eyes making it difficult to read his expression. Madeline thought he looked very young and very innocent. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the task ahead. “Would you like to freshen up?” Madeline asked with a small smile. Michael nodded and Madeline rose opening a door he hadn’t noticed the day before. “There is a towel and a change of clothes. I’ll return in a little while.” Michael nodded again and shut the door to the small bathroom.

The bathroom contained a sink, a toilet and a stall shower. There was only a small hand towel and no mirror. Michael turned the water on as hot as he could bear. He removed the tank top and pants from the day before and stepped under the hot spray. The water helped to sharpen the focus of his mind; he wondered who these people were and why they had chosen him. He carefully avoided all thoughts of the bombing and the woman who had reminded him of it brutally yesterday. Jurgen was someone he understood. Jurgen was a soldier. ‘A soldier who hates me.’ Michael thought to himself as he rinsed the soap from his hair. It was strange, but Jurgen reminded Michael of Rene. They were both men who had devoted their lives to a cause, albeit on opposite sides of the cause, still Michael understood them. This woman was different. He should hate her for what she had done to him.

He didn’t. Michael had always been able to understand people and see their true natures, a skill that had served him well in prison. Madeline was ruthless, but she also had a great capacity for feeling, perhaps this is what made her so well suited for her position. Somehow, understanding Madeline didn’t make her any easier to face. Michael rinsed the soap from his body and turned to face the spray of water letting the force of it hit his chest. The needle-like pain of the water against his face and chest helped him to focus and bring clarity to his thoughts. This woman, whoever she was, was dangerous. No matter how well he understood her. He had to be careful not to underestimate her, he decided turning off the water just as it was beginning to grow cold and toweling himself off with the small towel they had provided. He dressed quickly in clean white pants and tank top, still no shoes or socks so he remained barefoot. He ran his fingers through his hair and opened the door. He wasn’t prepared for what greeted him.

Once again, Madeline stood in the center of his room with her hands clasped in front of her. She gave him another one of her small smiles. “I took the liberty of providing you with new clothing.” She tilted her head slightly. “When training begins we will supply you with more suitable clothing.”

Michael grasped the sides of the door frame trying to regain his focus. The first thing he noticed was how beautifully Madeline’s burgundy suit set off her eyes. Then he noticed that all the walls were covered in photographs from the day of the bombing. Some of the photos were in black and white, but most were in color and some were as large as 11x14. A few had clippings attached to them adding details and names to the horrific images. Michael stumbled from the door and took several steps forward. He saw the little girl that looked like his sister, he could see smoke and dust from the debris covering bodies and the wounded. He studied all the photos and clippings for a long time. Madeline remained motionless in the room and was forgotten while Michael lost himself in the horror. Finally he spoke. “Why?” He whispered.

“You asked me why you should join us. I’m showing you.” Madeline spoke clearly and with no emotion. She walked to where Michael was standing and placed her hand on his shoulder. She felt him recoil from her touch but he didn’t pull away. Madeline left her hand where it was. She was almost whispering in his ear when she replied. “I’m offering you a chance to help her Michael,” they both understood she was referring to the little girl who was staring at him from the photo, but also of his sister who was at the mercy of Section. “You have destroyed all of their lives. It is here that you will pay your penance.” Madeline dropped her hand and walked to the door. She was walking out and almost missed Michael’s whisper. “Who are you?” He asked. “I’m Madeline.” She left Michael surrounded by the ghosts of those who would haunt him for the rest of his life. It would be years before Michael realized Madeline was wrong. Penance had implied Michael would someday be forgiven. He would never find forgiveness in Section.

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

Madeline left Michael alone for the rest of the day. She came to him on the third morning to determine whether he would be ready to begin training. She opened the door and found the room unchanged. Michael had left the photos and clippings on the wall, but he was resting on the bed reading one of the books from the shelf. A biography of Einstein, she saw when he put it down. Michael looked at her expectantly. “You are scheduled to begin training with Jurgen tomorrow. Are you ready?” She asked knowing nothing could prepare him for what Section held in store.

“No.” Michael answered meeting her glance confidently. Madeline was incredulous. “No?” She repeated dumbly. “I doubt anyone could ever prepare themselves for what you are willing to do to them.” He clarified with a smile that was reminiscent of her own. Michael swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood. He moved towards Madeline very deliberately. He was almost mocking her. “You reminded me yesterday that I owe a debt to society. I have to pay a reparation and since my only asset is my life then I’m willing to give that to you.” He bowed formally to her. “My life is yours.”

Madeline was shocked to the center of her being by the change that had come over Michael. He wasn’t the scared prisoner she had planned on training. She regained her equilibrium quickly. She smiled out of real amusement, few people had the power to shock her anymore, she would enjoy learning the intricacies of Michael’s psyche. She nodded her head in acknowledgment of Michael’s gift. “Thank you.” She had her hand on the door when he spoke again. This time his tone held a dangerous edge and a seriousness that contrasted with the playfulness he had just shown.

“Madeline.” He said. “Yes?” She asked with a slight wariness in her voice. “Be careful not to waste it.” She nodded once and left. She leaned against the closed door and wondered if she had been given a threat or a warning. Madeline decided maybe it would be a good time to reexamine Michael’s file before she proceeded any further. Hopefully, when Jurgen began his training Madeline would be able to get a clearer picture of the man that would be the future of Section.

Michael was the first to be recruited using the new techniques Madeline had suggested. The notion of recruiting from prisons had not been a popular one with the agencies, or Operations for that matter, but Madeline had thought it would be an excellent way to create the perfect Operatives. They were using her profiles to pick prisoners. Michael was the first to be recruited into Section One. She had determined that they would have to be intelligent, attractive, in excellent physical condition and willing to kill when told. Michael did not fit her profile exactly but he had other skills that would be difficult to train. Michael spoke English, French and Italian fluently. He was also familiar with Russian, German and several Asian dialects. He had been educated at the best private schools as a child and he came from a French Aristocratic family. ‘This is not the background of the average killer,’ Madeline thought. She shut the file firmly. Michael’s life would definitely not be wasted. Madeline had a plan for him and for Section One.

Michael sighed deeply as soon as he heard the door shut behind Madeline. He slumped onto the bed. ‘If I have to spend much time with her I’m going to die of exhaustion and I won’t have to worry about what they want from me,’ he thought to himself. He had decided the best course of action when dealing with Madeline was to show no fear, no emotion if possible, but he couldn’t do that. He was terrified of her gaze. Those dark orbs of pure intelligence. It was like being stared at by a machine. What was even worse was when she was kind and sympathetic. Michael distrusted that more than anything, but he also found himself oddly drawn to her. He desperately needed someone who he could trust and confide in.

Michael had always had his family. They hadn’t always agreed and he had still been rebelling against his father when he decided to join Rene. Rene and his friends had taken the place of his family after the deaths of his parents. They welcomed Michael and his sister and helped to care for them with money, food, time, love, whatever they had to offer. Michael had never been alone before now. Who could he trust here?

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

A man Michael had never seen before came in early the next morning bring clothes, boots and breakfast. “Jurgen will meet you in a half an hour. Be ready.” The man put everything in the chair turned and left while Michael was still struggling to wake. He roused himself from sleep and headed for the bathroom and a shower. He emerged with hair dripping, the hand towel had yet to be upgraded to a full size bath towel. Michael smiled to himself and wondered when he would be taken off the hostile/suicide list. He quickly frowned. Maybe training wouldn’t go well.

He saw breakfast was a cup of coffee, in a Styrofoam cup, an apple and a banana. Hopefully, the cafeteria would be on the list of items Jurgen would orient him to. He ate the fruit quickly sitting on the side of his bed. He decided he couldn’t stall any longer. He picked up the clothing provided him. Black cotton pants with lots of pockets, a black T-shirt, black socks and boots. Everything was black, even the underwear. Michael hated black. It was too dark. It was too much of a symbol for death. He hadn’t worn it since his parents’ funeral. He much preferred color, especially green, but he saw little choice. He dressed and picked up the Einstein book to wait for Jurgen.

He didn’t have to wait long. Only a few minutes had passed before the door squeaked open and Jurgen entered. “Are you ready?” Michael stood and nodded. He felt on firmer ground with Jurgen than he had with Madeline. Jurgen would let him know what was going on and what would be expected of him. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who enjoyed playing mind games or toying with people’s emotions. Still, Michael wasn’t ready to bet his life on it. Until he knew any differently, everyone was suspect as far as he was concerned. Prison had taught him some very unpleasant lessons, hopefully, they would apply here as well. “Good. Let’s get started.”

Jurgen stepped through the door. “This way.” Michael followed and immediately felt some of the tension leave his body. He hadn’t realized how much he had felt like a captive until he walked out of the room.

Jurgen led him down several hallways pointing out areas that were off limits before they reached the main corridor. The room resembled an everyday office building, except that the walls were made of gray concrete and the ceiling was supported by massive steel beams. Otherwise, Michael saw rows of people working at computers and telephones. He noticed a spiral staircase straight ahead with two well-armed guards on either side. ‘They probably aren’t the usual office personal either.’ Michael thought to himself trying not to smile at the absurdity of his situation. Jurgen motioned towards the guards, “Operations’ office is up there. This way.”

Jurgen led him past the stairs and rows of workers to another corridor. There was nothing but another massive wall to Michael’s left, but on the right were a series of glass doors and walls opening into gyms and workout areas. Some were empty and held only mats and other equipment, others had trainers working one on one, or with a larger number student sparing. “We’ll be spending a lot of time in this area. You’re free to come here and workout anytime. You will not be allowed to leave Section at anytime or for any reason in the next two years so make use of your freedom inside.” They continued walking until they reached a huge room that resembled a storage room with metal shelving and large Rubbermaid containers stacked in neat rows on the shelves. The center of the room contained several long work benches with machinery, wire, saudering equipment and lots of equipment Michael didn’t recognize.

“Walter?” Jurgen yelled. Michael glanced around him waiting. He noticed the door they had walked through was really the opening of a vault. Michael took in the materials around him again and realized he was in the armory of Section. “Hey!” Michael heard a scratch rough voice answer from a doorway to his right. He still couldn’t see the man attached to the voice. “Walter, I have someone I want you to meet.” Jurgen yelled back to the voice. Everyone Michael had encountered so far and looked like soldiers or bureaucrats. Walter was unlike anyone Michael had ever met.

Walter had long brown hair mingled with large streaks of gray and silver. He wore a bandanna across his forehead that sort of matched the tie-dye T-shirt he wore with writing across the front. The Grateful Dead? ‘Who were they and why are they grateful for death?’ Michael wondered. This strange man also wore jeans with large holes in them, combat boots and a large black leather belt with an enormous silver buckle. He walked towards Jurgen casually holding some kind of automatic weapon. Michael didn’t know what kind it was. He hated guns and had never used one. Rene and a couple of other friends had tried to teach him, but he refused to learn to shoot or even hold a gun.

“Haven’t seen you around for a while.” Walter said holding his hand out, the one without the gun, for Jurgen. “I’ve been out in the field more than usual lately.” Jurgen replied shaking the outstretched hand. “I want you to meet Michael. He’s Madeline’s knew recruit.” Walter raised an eyebrow at Jurgen. “He’s supposedly my ‘Material’, but we’ll see.” Jurgen spoke to Walter’s unspoken question. Walter squinted his eyes at Michael peering at him. Michael began to squirm under the scrutiny of Walter’s gaze. Finally, as if he had made up his mind, Walter smiled at him and held out his hand towards Michael. “Hi Michael. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Walter and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. You’re going to learn about a large array of weapons and communications equipment so pay attention.” He spoke while still holding Michael’s hand. Michael nodded feeling overwhelmed. Jurgen seemed to sense Michael’s discomfort, “I’ll bring him by tomorrow afternoon to begin training, if you have time?” Jurgen said. “Okay. Anytime after noon. I promised Operations’ I would finish testing some new comm stuff and have the report for him tomorrow morning.” Walter was already at work on stripping and cleaning the gun when Jurgen spoke, “Fine.”

Jurgen spent the next several hours leading Michael through other various parts of Section and introducing him to language instructors, computer instructors, various instructors in Martial Arts and a few people who didn’t tell Michael what they did. He asked Jurgen, “Housekeeping,” was his reply. Michael guessed they didn’t do the windows. Not that there were windows in Section, “We are ten stories underground.” Jurgen had told him. Jurgen had also shown him the cafeteria where he was able to eat a real meal for the first time in several days. Jurgen led him back to his room. “I’ll meet you in workout room 1 tomorrow at 5 am. Do you remember how to get there?” Michael wasn’t offended by the question. Section was a maze of tunnels and doors. He thought he remembered how to get there. “Okay. I’ll see you then. You are free to go to the cafeteria, the workout area, and the places I’ve shown you today.” Jurgen started to walk way when Michael stopped him.

“What if I get lost ?” Jurgen laughed. Michael was startled at the reaction. “Don’t worry. You’ll know if you enter an authorized area.” He answered. Michael didn’t think he wanted to find out what would happen. He flashed back to the grim men who Jurgen had said were in Housekeeping. He shuddered and opened the door to his room finding it unchanged except for the addition of a white chest of drawers to the right of the door. The walls were still covered in the photos Madeline had put up. He decided to leave them. He walked to the drawers and pulled them open. They held T-shirts, shorts, pants, socks, etc. all black. He also found normal size towels in the bathroom and he grinned reluctantly. It could have been worse. He could have been stuck with those stupid hand towels that never got the water out of his hair. ‘At least these are white,’ he thought to himself. He took off his boots and stretched out on the bed to finish reading his book.

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

Michael and Jurgen fell into a pattern of working out in the morning. Michael would work on increasing his basic fitness and endurance levels. He and Jurgen would eat breakfast together and go back for another workout. He would then be handed off to Walter, or another instructor for specific training in hand to hand combat, weapons, etc. The evenings also belonged to Section. Michael would study language and computer training, or he would spend time with people called profilers studying tactics, statistics and strategy. When Michael found himself with a few moments to himself he read. Anything he could find. Madeline had an extensive library and he was given free reign. Often, he would read books in Latin or Greek, sometimes his native French, but he usually chose foreign languages to challenge himself, and his tutors who found him a much quicker study than they anticipated.

Michael grew more comfortable within Section and even enjoyed some aspects of it. He didn’t mind the workouts and he liked Walter a lot, although he still wasn’t comfortable with many of the weapons and he hated practicing on the firing range. Jurgen had settled into the role of teacher to Michael’s student. He never remarked on the past or what had brought Michael to Section. Even with Jurgen and Walter, Michael was still lonely and missed Rene and his sister. Michael was still wary of making friends within Section. Many of the people he met in workouts were reluctant to talk to him unless they had to. Even his instructors and the people in communications seemed to dislike his prescence, finally one morning at breakfast he broached the subject with Jurgen.

“Why do the people here hate me? I can feel them staring at me when I’m in the gym or when I walk through Section?” Michael asked Jurgen who sat across from him eating an omelet. He wore Section issued clothing, but instead of black Jurgen’s were green, reinforcing the image of a soldier even further into Michael’s mind.

Jurgen dropped his fork. He sighed deeply at Michael and then took a drink of juice before he answered. “Michael, are you sure you really want to know?” Michael nodded and dropped his own fork resting his hands on the table in front of him. Jurgen ran his hands through his hair and began to speak, “Section was founded years ago by a woman named Adrian. She decided that the world was increasingly at risk from terrorist organizations, such as L’Heure Sanguine and even more radical groups, Section’s purpose is to act as an anti-terrorist organization. We act when other agencies in the government can’t, or won’t. Under Adrian, Section was composed of soldiers, spies, and others associated with black ops. Are you with me so far?” Jurgen asked. Michael nodded. Jurgen took another deep breath and leaned across the table even closer to Michael. He looked around before continuing.

“Section is as vulnerable to politics and upheaval as any other agency. A few years ago a rift developed between Adrian and her second in command, Operations. Of course, he wasn’t Operations then,” Jurgen furtively glanced around the cafeteria again before continuing. “Anyway, Operations power grew and he made some very powerful friends. He and Adrian began to disagree on the goals and purpose of Section. A war between the two factions broke out and Operations won. Adrian disappeared, nobody knows what happened to her. I’m telling you this so you will understand Section One as it is now.”

“I was new to Section when the divisions started to occur and I agreed, agree with Operations and his ideas. Many others didn’t and they died or disappeared in the field. When Operations took over our numbers were dangerously low. Madeline came up with a way to increase recruitment, but it isn’t a popular one with a lot of people.”

“You’re talking about me. I’m part of this new recruitment policy of taking people from prison to repopulate the Section?” Michael interrupted. Jurgen shook his head. “You are the first to enter the Section in this way.” Jurgen let the weight of his words sink in before he continued. “Michael, a lot the people here resent your presence because you symbolize what it is we are trying to fight against.” Jurgen pushed his food away. Michael sat in shock trying to absorb what Jurgen had told him. He had assumed that most everyone he met had been recruited in the same way. Everything started to make since to him. Almost immediately he felt even more alone and more isolated than before.

Michael raised his eyes to Jurgen’s. “So that’s why you hate me.” He stated bluntly and emotionlessly. Jurgen had noticed the color and emotion drain from Michael’s face. “I don’t hate you anymore.” Jurgen answered cautiously. “I understand you got caught up in something and it got out of hand. I realize you never intended to kill people, but Michael you did.” Jurgen answered honestly. Michael dropped his head and nodded. “I know.” Jurgen continued, “When Madeline first gave me your file. I refused to train you. Operations made it an order and I had no choice. I realize you’re not a terrorist. You were a kid who was rebelling against a dead father and found a group to replace your family. It’s just too bad they turned out to be a bad choice.”

Michael felt a flash of anger. He knew what he and the others had done was wrong, but governments were corrupt. Change is necessary. While there may have been a better choice, Michael still couldn’t condemn Rene or his friends who took in his sister and himself. They fed him. They loved him. He felt himself being pulled in many directions. He understood why Jurgen, and Section, acted as they did. They had the power to create a change in the world in a fundamental way against evil and corruption. At the same time, Rene was his family. Michael realized he had no choice. He had to atone for his part in the bombing. Section had given him a new life. He would make the best of it he could. He walled off his feelings and willed himself to become the best operative Section could create. They despised him for what he was, but Michael was determined they would respect him for what he would become.

Michael raised his head and found Jurgen staring at him. “Are you okay Michael?” “Yes. I am” Michael replied in a voice Jurgen hadn’t heard before. Only Madeline had ever seen this Michael. “Thank you for telling me Jurgen. I realize I was not to be given this information.” He rose from the table and walked away. Jurgen shook his head and wondered if he had made a mistake in telling him the truth. Michael’s thoughts remained hidden to everyone, but himself.

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

Michael walked calmly to the munitions area. He waited for Walter to emerge from the myriad of workshops he had. Walter saw Michael and noted his expression. It was totally blank. Devoid of all emotion. “Walter, I need a gun and lots of ammunition.” He asked as if he were asking for a glass of water. Walter was more than a little suspicious. “What for?” Michael did not answer but merely looked at him. Michael let the mask fall away and Walter could see what Michael allowed no one to know. Walter could see the anguish Section’s isolation was causing. He could see Michael’s loneliness, his grief, his rage. Walter would never know why he did it but he handed Michael the weapon and a box of shells. Michael, with the mask back in place, picked up his supplies and thanked Walter. He turned and walked away. Walter armed himself placing the gun in his waistband at the small of his back where it was hidden beneath his Jean jacket and quietly followed Michael.

Michael led him to one of the many firing ranges hidden within Section. Michael was aware of Walter’s presence but gave no indication of it. He kept walking until he reached his destination. The guard at the entrance started to deny his passage but Michael only stared at him. His face void of any emotion. Walter, standing behind him now, nodded and the guard allowed them passage. Michael walked to the nearest area open pouring bullets out on the counter. Walter held back a groan hoping Michael would use them all up so he wouldn’t have to try and inventory it later. Walter shook himself, “Let’s try to remain focused here.” He thought to himself. “I can’t figure out if this kid has blown a gasket or if the reality of Section has just kicked.” Walter didn’t know which one would be more devastating.

“Where should I aim?” Michael asked loading the gun. “The chest.” Walter answered quickly praying they were both talking about the paper targets, but if not the guards armor would cover their chests also. Walter knew he was taking an enormous risk but he trusted Michael implicitly. He had from the beginning. Walter never questioned his gut. Michael walked to the area where he would fire from taking the stance Walter had shown him raised his hand and released the air from his lungs. He allowed the gun to become a part of himself to acknowledge that this was a part of him. It was who he was. He closed his eyes took another breath and as he released the air he fired. Over and over until the chamber was empty. Walter punched the button to retrieve the target as Michael reloaded the gun.

The target wasn’t filled with holes. It was filled with one hole. A giant gaping hole in the middle of the chest. Michael’s aim had been perfect. It wasn’t the erratic and half-hearted shooting Walter had seen before. Michael had told him he hated guns. They were weapons for those who couldn’t solve problems with their minds. Walter had bit back a comment about bombers knowing it would have wounded Michael deeply. Walter still struggled trying to reconcile the man with the image Madeline had presented in the briefing.

Michael was not a cold blooded methodical killer. He was a confused young man who lost his way. The only one willing to show him a path had been Rene Dion. It was this Walter regretted. He wished Section could somehow intervene before they were terrorists and had forfeited their lives. Walter sighed and watched as Michael took aim once again. Michael raised one eyebrow in question at Walter. “The head.” Walter replied. Once again Michael’s aim was dead on. They repeated this process for an hour neither man noticing the crowd gathering behind them as men watched in awe of how easily Michael was making it look. When the hour was over. Michael had used every bullet, for which Walter was thankful, and Michael was in the armory cleaning his weapon. Walter didn’t ask how he had learned to do it. He just accepted that Michael needed to do it. They spent the rest of the day in the armory. Michael familiarized himself with all the weapons Section had to offer. He learned how to strip and clean them, to take them apart and put them together again. They worked companionably, mostly in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable and Walter would often grip Michael’s shoulder and squeeze reassuringly when handing over a new weapon. Michael was grateful for the contact and smiled at Walter. Walter returned it with a grin of his own and then proceeded to tell Michael as many dirty jokes as he could remember. Michael even laughed a couple of times out loud.

Jurgen watched from one of the monitors in systems. He was also in Walter’s debt. “The man has a way with people.” Jurgen thought. Thank God Michael had gone there to work out his problems. Jurgen shuddered to think what Madeline might have done with him.

“I don’t see how this is progress.” Operations spoke between puffs on his cigarette. Madeline detested those things but since he was well aware of her opinion she kept it to herself. “Michael has finally accepted the reality of Section. He now ‘knows’ what it is we are training him to do. He doesn’t just understand it intellectually but he understands in a real and tangible way what he will be expected to do.” Operations glared at her unconvinced. He still wasn’t sure about Madeline’s new pet recruit nor did he like the looks she sometimes gave Michael when she watched him on the monitors. But Madeline had gotten them through the War and he was grateful. She had understood Adrian on a level he couldn’t. The battle of wills between those two had been enormous and the loss of life was even greater. Section had to get it’s numbers up. He hoped Madeline knew what she was doing.

Jurgen decided it was to time to talk to Michael for himself. He didn’t regret telling Michael the truth about Section and his place in it. He regretted the change Michael had taken on. He could become almost, well machine-like, was the best Jurgen could describe it. As if Michael could turn off his humanity at will. This thought chilled Jurgen. He didn’t want to create that or cause that kind of loss in another person. No one deserved that. He walked into the armory filled with dread that the Michael he had come to know would no longer exist. Instead he found him laughing with Walter. “Hey Jurgen,” Michael said in greeting. “Have you heard the one about the blonde who walked into a bar.....”

***********

Operations looked over the report Jurgen handed him. “You’re happy with his progress?” Operations asked lighting another cigarette. Jurgen resisted the urge to swat at the smoke wafting towards him. “Yes. I am. He excels in weaponry and he’s a crack shot. Walter said he’s never seen anything like it. He’s mastered most forms of hand to hand combat, he’s proficient with the communications equipment and has a better grasp of the computer than most of our systems people. Michael is an excellent recruit.” Operations listened in silence as Jurgen ran through the list of Michael’s virtues.

“My question is can he do the job we’ve trained him for?” Operations rose and started pacing the length of his office. Jurgen stood in his usual fatigues hands clasped behind his back legs wide and feet firmly planted. Only his eyes followed Operations movement. He had dreaded this question. Jurgen had no choice but to answer honestly, “I don’t know. He feels Section has offered him a chance to atone....but I honestly don’t know if he can pull the trigger.”

“It’s only been a year and a half. I still have another six months.” Madeline’s smooth voice came from the door. Jurgen noticed she was wearing her usual power suit. Today’s suit was black. He also noted that Operations eyes lit up when he saw her. He wondered if they had any idea how obvious it was to all in Section that they were lovers. Jurgen doubted it. “Officially, Michael is Jurgen’s material, but the Section has too much invested in him for failure.” She strode across the room to stand next to Jurgen on his left. He admired her graceful movements that were fluid, yet still economical. Madeline didn’t waste time on unnecessary movement, or emotion.

Operations turned his back to them. Madeline and Jurgen exchanged small smiles at the smoke rings forming above his head. “Fine.” He said finally, but Jurgen’s relief was fleeting.

“I want to try a new form of therapy on him.” Madeline paused as if undecided herself before she continued with more confidence. “It’s a risk and he might not recover. If it works we can build him into anything we wish.” Madeline had both men’s full attention. She continued. “It’s called Forced Hypnotic Regression. I will use hypnosis to return Michael to childhood and tear down all his emotional barriers until there is nothing left. Then I will rebuild him.”

Jurgen was horrified at her suggestion and for a few moments he stood gaping at her. “No.” He said quietly. Firmly. Forcefully. “Michael has spent months trying to gain a place within Section. He has earned a place here. This ...,” Jurgen struggled to find an appropriate word, “procedure is completely unnecessary.” He grew agitated and was pacing through Operations office trying to hold on to a reality that didn’t involve the training of assassins or the emotional destruction of a friend. That’s how he had grown to think of Michael as a friend. ‘What the hell have I gotten into?’ Jurgen thought to himself.

“I know you didn’t want this assignment and it has been difficult. You must stay focused on the job. We aren’t trying to rebuild his self-esteem or teach him how to play well with others.” Operations said with irritation in his voice. “Michael’s place within Section is whatever I decide it should be. This recruitment program is being watched at the highest levels, we must succeed.” Operations paused before his eyes lowered to meet Madeline’s. Jurgen sensed a silent exchange between them. He just didn’t know what it meant or what effect it could have on Michael.

“It really is the only way.” Madeline said finally. “We could continue our usual training program and start a conventional therapy. The success rate is much lower, ultimately, I doubt Michael would kill again.” Operations raised an eyebrow and started to speak. Madeline cut him off. “I think he would rather be dead. Neither of you have paid close attention to Michael’s progress. Yes, he has become closer to a few people.” She nodded in recognition of Michael and Jurgen’s relationship. “He also has an affinity for Walter.” She moved to stand only inches away from Jurgen who braced himself to keep from stepping back. “Has he taken the photographs from the walls of his room?” She asked. Jurgen shook his head no. “So he has left himself surrounded with images of destruction, which he caused,” Madeline emphasized. “Do you think he would willingly do that again? Even if it meant saving innocent lives?” She asked Jurgen tilting her head forcing him to meet her eyes. Again he shook his head. “I doubt it.” He spoke quietly. Finally, she asked, “Do you think Michael fears death?” Jurgen was thrown off guard by the question.

Jurgen had assumed Michael followed orders and trained because he didn’t want to die. Self-preservation was a wonderful motivator. Jurgen realized Madeline was right. He didn’t really understand Michael. He was an enigma. Jurgen, resigned, gave his consent to cooperate.

Operations took over questioning Madeline about the technical aspects of her plans. Operations was satisfied with her answers. “I want you to begin immediately. Oversight will want a full report in six months. Michael had better be the model operative by then or you will have failed.” His voice was unusually harsh. “Both of you.” Jurgen was shocked by his vehemence. It didn’t matter. Jurgen already knew he had failed Michael. He only hoped that somehow Michael could hold onto his soul. He looked at Madeline standing beside him. He could feel her barely contained excitement. He knew Michael’s soul was already lost. Much later, Jurgen would realize this was the moment he knew he had made a mistake. He had chosen poorly. Adrian had been right. It wasn’t rational but he hated Michael for making him acquiesce. Michael didn’t care about himself enough to fight for survival. Michael knew there were worst things than death. Jurgen just found out.

***********

“Where is Michael now?” Operations asked Madeline. “With Walter. They spend a considerable amount of time together.” She replied. Operations stared out his window for a long time. Madeline began to grow uncomfortable in the silence. She hated not knowing what someone was thinking. Thankfully, it rarely happened. Operations had suprised her on occasion and she had found the experience profoundly unpleasant. He turned towards her taking the cigarette out his mouth and holding it in his hand where it hovered over an ashtray that wasn’t quite close enough. Madeline wanted to grab the ashtray and hold it under the falling ash, but she refrained. She was nervous that Operations would change his mind and simply order Michael to be ‘canceled’.

Madeline was also tense because she wasn’t as confident about this new therapy as she had sounded to Operations and Jurgen. She had never tried it before and the few people it had been attempted on had never recovered. They were lost in their own minds. If she failed in this treatment and lost Michael her credibility would be destroyed. Even with all of his power, Operations would not be able to cover up such a large mistake. Section would also lose standing with the other agencies and Oversight would be forced to step in. Madeline couldn’t let that happen. They had to succeed. “Madeline?” Operations repeated. She had been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him speak.

“Yes?” She answered quickly masking any hint of emotion behind a bland smile that never reached her eyes. Annoyance flared up in Operations. She never dropped her guard. Not even when they were alone. He could sense her pulling away from him. Since the war with Adrian she had been more concerned with Section and it’s position than their relationship. Devotion to one’s work was an excellent trait in a second-in-command, but not in a lover. He wondered if he would regret their assuming power one day.

“I asked if you were certain you can pull this off?” He repeated. She appeared to give it some thought before answering. “There is a risk of failure but when balanced with what we stand to gain I think it’s worth attempting. Michael’s physical skills and training will be unaltered by the therapy. He has so thoroughly trained himself they’ve become reflexive actions. Regardless of what I may do to his mind, his body will remember how to fire a gun, how to fight, and so forth. Michael only has to believe he is capable of killing, in cold-blood, if necessary. We are attempting to alter his behavior by changing who Michael is. In normal hypnosis someone cannot be made to do something that they otherwise wouldn’t do.” She was warming to her topic and waved away Operations when he tried to comment. “Yes, someone can be hypnotized to bark like a dog or to convince them not to smoke,” she arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Don’t even think about it.” Operations growled.

“But the procedure I’m going to use is much more complicated.” ‘And unpleasant,’ she added silently. “I think six months should give me enough time to have completed the process and Michael should be thoroughly indoctrinated into Section.” Madeline hoped fervently that it was true. “I want you to begin as soon and as quietly as possible. The fewer people who know of this the better.” Madeline nodded in agreement, “Of course. I’ll begin right away.”

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

Michael woke gasping for air and filled with a feeling of dread. He sat up pushing the sweat-soaked sheet away from him. Resting his back against the headboard, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He scanned the room pushing his hair away from his eyes. Everything was as it should be. Maybe the feeling was simply a lingering reaction to the nightmare. His dream had been different this time. He was trapped under the rubble from the church surrounded by those who had died. They stood silently and watched as he screamed and struggled. He woke this time before they spoke. He wondered why. The ghosts seemed to be watching him, pitying him. Michael shook his head trying to clear the disturbing images from his mind. At least the guards had stopped busting through the door at his screams. When he first came to Section he would awaken from his nightmares to find large gunmen standing over him. He was left disconcerted for days. Thankfully, Jurgen finally told them to stop coming in and just check the monitors.

Michael swung his legs over the bed and rose deciding to go workout early. He was becoming increasingly interested in the Martial Arts and enjoyed the meditative qualities of the workouts. Hopefully, this would help him forget about his nightmares. Michael moved soundlessly as he headed for the bathroom. In the shower he rested against the tile enjoying the icy smoothness of the wall against his heated skin. The shower helped to clear the fogginess of his mind. He toweled off quickly chilled by the cool air in Section. He dressed in his usual black. He still hated black, but the thought of drawing further attention to himself within Section was enough for him to try to blend in at all costs. He got enough attention as it was. He was lacing up his boots when the door opened and two large men stepped through it. Michael rose as adrenaline surged through his system. He had no idea what was happening but maintaining calm, or at least the appearance of calm, was critical in Section. No one panicked. Ever. Regardless of the situation. Michael’s outward appearance was the epitome of serenity.

The guards were puzzled to find Michael awake and dressed. It appeared he had been waiting for them. Even more mystifying, Madeline had just asked them to take him to level 9. They hadn’t known there was a level 9. Finally, one of them spoke. “Come with us Michael.” Michael analyzed the situation in seconds. Both men were well over six feet with guns strapped to their thighs. The one who stood in the doorway had his arms crossed over his massive chest in preparation for resistance. ‘Not a good sign,’ Michael thought to himself. The guard closest to him stood with his hands straight at his sides. He reminded Michael of the cowboys in the American movies he had watched as a child. He smiled helplessly at the absurdity of the situation. Even if he could get away from them he would still be in Section. There was no where to go. He shrugged in resignation and turned back to his bed. The guard closest to him stepped forward. “Come with us now.” He repeated. Both men were a little nervous around the latest recruit. He had just smiled at their fiercest expressions and now he seemed ready to go with them peacefully. They weren’t sure they wanted to know what was going on.

“Of course. Just give me a minute.” Michael said while he pulled the covers up and made his bed. If he didn’t come back it would at least be neat for the next person besides it was fun to unnerve the guards. It also bought him a little time to try and figure out the situation. He wondered what the hell they planned to do to him now?

The guards led him out of the room and to a massive elevator on the opposite side of Section. Michael had never been in this area. It was dark and poorly lit. Shadows loomed in doorways and lights blinked over several doors. The elevator was at the end of a short hallway made of concrete blocks. There were no doors or a control panel for the elevator. Michael noticed there was a keypad. The guard punched in a code and the doors opened. Michael stepped through the doors first and turned around. He caught a flash of movement past the guards shoulders as they entered the elevator. He saw Jurgen stop at the doors. The guards held up their hands warning him he could go no further. The doors were almost closed when Michael heard him. “I’m sorry, Michael. I’m so sorry.” The doors slammed shut. The lights went out. The elevator descended further and further in the darkness. The guards flanked him each taking one of his arms when the elevator finally stopped. He had no idea how long the ride lasted. It had felt like an eternity. The doors opened and as they stepped out of the elevator into the light. Madeline stood before him.

“Hello, Michael.” She said. Michael blinked his eyes trying to adjust them to the light. The guards pulled him towards a room directly in front of him. Michael stumbled still unfamiliar to such a bright light. It occurred to him then he hadn’t seen the sun for almost two years. He began to doubt he would ever see it again. The escort on his left dropped his arm and pushed the door open. It moved slowly indicating to Michael how much it must weigh. ‘Another ominous sign.’ He thought to himself. The guards pushed him inside. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. He caught himself but his palms scraped against the rough concrete floor and he sucked in air sharply as the stinging spread from his palms and wrists to the softer skin of his forearm. Madeline glared at the guards as she stepped into the tiny room.

“Why am I here?” Michael hissed sitting up against the wall his emerald eyes blazing with rage. His hair was dishelved and fell across his face, normally giving him the appearance of youth. To Madeline, he looked anything but youthful. For the first time, she realized Michael wasn’t as in control of his emotions as she had thought. She started to step forward and kneel to talk to him as she had when she first met him. Michael’s eyes continued to bore into hers. “No.” He snarled at her. Madeline jumped away from him quickly as one of the guards came to stand behind her. She motioned him away. “I’m not happy with your progress thus far. I think it’s time we tried something new.” She answered. She sounded slightly breathless when she spoke. Michael felt the tiniest satisfaction that he had rattled her a little. “What are you going to do?” Michael asked rising to his feet.

“That depends on you.” Madeline said as she walked away from him and through the door. The door was already closing when Michael reached it. “No!” He screamed against it. Their was a metallic creaking and the door slammed shut leaving Michael in the tiny concrete room. He turned to take in his surroundings when he was plunged into darkness once again. He had no idea how long he stood. Dazed at what had happened. Hours? Minutes? He had no idea. He fell hard on his knees and stretched out on his stomach against the jagged floor. He rested his head on his arms. Exhausted, he fell into an uneasy sleep, terrified of what awaited him.

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

Silence. Darkness and silence were what awaited Michael when he woke. He struggled to raise himself off of the cold stone floor but collapsed when the pain from his hands reminded him of his wounds. They were minor but they stung fiercely. Michael relished the pain. It was real and tangible in this new world. Michael rose to his feet in one quick move pushing into the ground forcefully breaking open the scrapes in several places. He bit back a hiss of pain and enjoyed the clarity the discomfort forced into his mind. He had no idea how long he had been locked in this room. Hours, a day, unlikely he thought. Michael usually only slept for a few hours at a time, a habit he had fallen into when his parents died, he would sleep for a few hours before returning to watch over his sister. Michael was terrified something would happen to her if he stopped keeping this vigil. He ignored all the other disturbing images that tried to push into his thoughts. It was time to be practical.

“One, two, three, four....,” He counted memorizing the scale of the room. He found all the irregularities in the floor and rough spots along the walls. He was deeply disturbed to find two metal spikes in the wall that held large metal rings. They were spaced far enough apart to guess what they were used for. He also noted that it was likely there was a matching set somewhere above his reach that would leave the prisoner unable to touch the floor when hanging from these hooks. He wondered at what point he would find himself attached to the wall? Michael found himself laughing out loud at the bizarre concept. Normally, that would seem like a ridiculous fear. He realized in Section there was no such thing. Every fear was real and could easily come true. These thoughts were useless. He returned to the center of the room and let all thought drift from his mind. There was little he could do about the situation so he decided the best way to analyze it would be to forget it. He stood with his feet apart and began moving slowly. The routine he had been practicing with his Martial Arts instructor came easily and helped him focus only on the movements of his body. When he finished he had his answer. He wanted to live.

Michael would find Madeline wouldn’t make that easy. She left him alone for several days. There was no light, no food, no water. Michael used this time to reflect. He allowed himself to look back at the past, honestly and without bitterness. He remembered his father taking him to the office and letting him twirl in the large leather desk chair. His mother would gently brush his hair from his face and kiss him to sleep at night. Michael kneeled on the floor with the stone cutting into his knees. He let the tears flow freely while the memories flooded him. His father’s disappointment over his lack of ambition. His mother’s soothing voice trying to calm his father. Later, the phone call in the middle of the night where a police man told him his parents were dead. He could feel his sister sobbing in his arms. The last few years were the hardest but Michael didn’t waiver. He remembered everything. The last of his memories were of his sister sobbing and crying out his name in the court where he had been condemned to life in prison. Michael sobbing rose to his feet and screamed. He screamed until he was choking on his tears. When he couldn’t scream any longer he beat on the rough stone until his hands were raw and bleeding. He screamed for the boy who had lost his parents too soon. He cried for the sister that would always think her brother had abandoned her. He beat on the wall in anger and regret for the lives he had taken. Finally, he collapsed to the floor and fell into an exhausted sleep.

When Madeline came for him she was shocked at what she found. She opened the door and saw Michael sitting cross-legged in one corner of the room. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping. Madeline stepped towards him hesitantly. “Hello Madeline.” Michael said quietly. His eyes closed. Madeline froze. Michael’s eyes opened and he smiled at her. She heard Jurgen’s words go through her mind briefly, “Someday you’ll find someone beyond your control.....”

“Did he know?” Michael asked the smile falling from his face. His expression devoid of emotion. Madeline wasn’t sure what he meant. “Who?” She asked, her voice almost a whisper. “Jurgen.” Michael clarified. “Yes.” She answered more confidently this time. “He agreed this would be appropriate.” Michael nodded. He had suspected from Jurgen’s apology. A part of him wanted to cling to the hope he hadn’t known; that he had been Michael’s friend. Michael allowed another part of his humanity slip away. Madeline decided to regain her hold on the situation. “Shall we begin?”

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

Michael fell to his knees holding his stomach while he struggled to breathe. Madeline watched impassively from the corner. She nodded to the guard. He grabbed Michael’s hair in his fist and yanked him to his feet. Michael tasted blood when he bit his tongue. Still, he refused to cry out. “You were fifteen when your parents were killed correct?” Madeline asked Michael. “So your father died angry at you for your failures to measure up to his expectations.” Michael glared at her beneath half-lidded eyes. The guard let go of his hair and held him roughly by his arms.

Madeline had moved to beatings when she realized Michael was one of the few people who were not responsive to hypnosis. She continued to destroy him with her words forcing him to relive memories he had thought he had moved beyond. Finally, he allowed her to demolish all hold he had on the past. Any peace Michael had achieved in his time alone was gone. Weeks of beatings and emotional torment had finally forced Michael to relent. “Yes.” He whispered. He was too exhausted to hold on anymore. “Very good Michael.” Madeline said. He dropped his head to his chest panting and gasping for breath.

“Why?” He asked. “I told you I would join you. I trained, I fought, I did everything you asked of me. Why?” He asked and hated himself for the weakness. Tears mixed with sweat and blood when he raised his head to look at her. It wasn’t Madeline who answered. “Because of me.” Jurgen said stepping into the room. In the weeks Michael had been secluded he thought he had come to terms with Jurgen’s betrayal. He understood that there was no loyalty in Section. No one could be trusted. Michael watched as Jurgen went to stand beside Madeline. “They asked me if I thought you were capable of killing again. I said I didn’t know.” He dropped his head refusing to meet Michael’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I just didn’t know.”

Michael laughed. The guards almost lost their grip in suprise at his reaction. Madeline’s mask of nonchalance slipped. Her crossed arms falling to her side in shock. She looked at Jurgen and back to Michael quickly trying to assess this sudden burst of emotion. Michael laughed harder the sound changing to a horrible racking cough. Jurgen stepped forward fearing a broken rib might have punctured one of Michael’s lungs.

“Don’t touch me.” Michael snarled with such vehemence his guards dropped his arms. Michael fell to the floor once again. Jurgen held his ground, although with more trepidation than before. Michael struggled to his feet one arm gripping his side the other hand smoothed his hair away from his face. He took a step towards Jurgen, then another, until he was only inches away. “Do you know now?” Michael asked his eyes boring into Jurgen’s.

Jurgen wanted to step away to turn and run from this room filled with the emotional rubble of a man he had thought of as a friend. He owed it to Michael to stay. This was his penance. He examined Michael’s face. His eyes widened in horror. The Michael, whose eyes had once been a mirror to gage his emotion, was gone. The man who stood before him now frightened him. His face was void of any trace of humanity. The man who stood before him now resembled a machine. He appeared to be capable of anything. “In case you have any doubts, let me assure you, I am quiet capable of handling any job you require of me.” This time Jurgen believed him.

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

“Let’s test him then.” Operations said to Madeline after having watched the surveillance tapes of Madeline and Jurgen’s session with Michael. He was extremely pleased with their progress so far. Madeline was still a couple of months ahead of schedule and Michael, while still recovering from his ‘therapy’, would be able to perform a few missions before Oversight saw the final report. Operations puffed on his cigarette, he was indeed very happy.

“I’ll have Jurgen watch for any upcoming missions that might be appropriate.” Madeline said sitting in her chair behind her desk. She had already started looking through some of her files to see if she could suggest anything specific. “Do you think that’s wise?” Operations asked taking a seat in front of her. He knew this was one of the games Madeline liked to play forcing him to be deferential while in her domain.

“What do you mean?” She asked. She hated having her decisions questioned by anyone, even Operations. Her intentions were always directed for the good of Section. She wondered if Operations could say the same? “Michael continuing as Jurgen’s material.” He clarified.

Madeline continued searching through files pretending to consider the question. When she heard him sigh in exasperation she answered. “Yes.” She stopped and turned to face him. She laced her fingers together resting them on her desk. Their eyes met and she continued. “This will be an excellent test for Jurgen as well as for Michael. We have to know our operatives will be able to work together, regardless of personal history, or their personal desires. Emotion is a weakness that they can’t afford. No one in Section can.” She said coldly. She sat totally still waiting for him to speak. For the first time he looked, really looked, at Madeline and finally understood. She didn’t ask anything of anyone that she wasn’t willing to give herself. She wouldn’t let passion endanger their work within the Section. He knew their relationship was over.

She spoke again quietly, “Their relationship with Section must be the only relationship they have. Lovers and passion are fleeting. Their commitment to us is forever.” Operations refused to meet her eyes and rose to his feet. He left the room without ever looking back. Madeline closed her eyes and let the tears fall slowly down her face.

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

While Madeline and Operations were discussing his fate, Michael was recuperating in Medlab. “So you’re finally back.” Walter said sauntering through the door. He tried to keep his grin in place for Michael’s sake. He didn’t know if the kid knew how bad he looked or not.

Michael was lying in a hospital bed covered to mid-chest in a white sheet and blanket. His exposed chest was wound tightly with white bandages and any exposed skin was a mottled shade of black and purple. He was looking away from Walter with only the right side of his face visible. His eye was swollen almost shut and he had a gash along his cheek held together by several stitches. “Where the hell did they send him?” Walter wondered. They would have to have known that regardless of his training Michael hadn’t been on any missions before, surely they would have started him out a little more gradually.

“Get out.” Michael said. Walter stopped in mid-stride trying to figure out what was going on. “Was the mission that bad?” Walter asked softly trying to get Michael to make eye contact. Michael slowly turned his face towards Walter. He sucked in his breath at Michael’s appearance. The other side of his face was worse than what Walter had already seen. There was a gash over his left eye and a fading green bruise on his cheek. Walter wondered why some of the wounds appeared to be older than the others? Michael stared at him as if trying to make a decision. “You didn’t know?” His voice barely audible. Walter walked to the side of his bed.