ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours.
"Coming Up For Air"
Author's disclaimer: Nikita, Michael, and the rest of the LFN gang are products of the LFN Productions and Warner Bros. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended. As always, I'd like to thank the writers and producers of La Femme Nikita for allowing me to play with their creations. I promise I won't fold, staple, glue, tape, spindle, or otherwise mutilate them and that I'll put them back where I found them... hopefully no worse for wear. There are slight spoilers for Gates of Hell, but not too bad. This takes place sometime after the opening arc of Season Three. Major disclaimer: I am NOT a computer programmer/hacker. I have no idea how viruses actually travel through cyberspace. My over-fertile imagination hit upon this idea after reading an article in an online newspaper during the standoff with Iraq earlier this year. I hope no evil-minded person takes this premise and tries to implement it. If they do, I hope their computer blows up!
---------------------------------------
Prologue
Nikita raised her head cautiously, testing the slight breeze. In the stygian darkness, her best informants were her ears and her nose. While the new night goggles were a huge improvement over the older version, she still couldn't make out all the fine details. And for her current situation, she needed all the additional information she could get.
The mission was one of the more complex solo 'infiltrate, obtain, and destroy' type she'd ever been assigned and had been hallmarked by several unexpected developments. It had taken a month of deep cover work to establish her identity as a computer chip design expert... and another six weeks to move into the correct division of the company. Just last week she'd been given admittance to the area of the facility where the intel indicated the server was located. And yesterday... finally... she'd gotten the access code. Tonight was her first -- and probably only -- opportunity to download the necessary files and programs to Birkoff -- and then destroy them.
The company, Millennium Data Transfer, Inc., ostensibly developed and marketed telecommunications hardware and software. But that was merely a front for their real objective... massive world communications black-out and/or destruction. And they were using the current hysteria over the Year 2000 to gain access to critical satellites and computer systems.
Advertised as programmers and systems analysts, MDT operatives subcontracted with key government, private and public sector communications agencies. They were hired to fix Y2K problems. Oh, they 'fixed' them alright. The 'fixes' were even designed to pass extensive Y2K testing. The agencies and companies only knew that when MDT was finished, they were Year 2000 compliant... and that was enough for them. What they didn't -- and couldn't -- see, was that the 'fix' contained a virus scheduled to go active at 12:01am January 1, 2000, whether the computer was booted up or not.
Once activated, the virus would literally burn out every comm chip in the workstation. If enough critical systems and satellites were infected with the virus, the result would be a world-wide communication black out. MDT planned to use the ensuing confusion to conceal their real objective.
Section One had -- quite literally -- stumbled onto MDT.
************
Chapter 1
Section One
Five months before
Birkoff was monitoring the system backup of the Belgrade substation when he noticed a discrepancy in the size of several files. Since they were supposed to be identical files to those on his workstation, he was somewhat surprised by the difference in Belgrade. He halted the backup, contacted the substations' systems analyst and then went 'hunting.'
Nothing aggravated Birkoff more than to have someone mess around with 'his' systems. He read the 'riot act' to the Belgrade analyst but was considering not reporting the incident to Madeline -- until he found the hidden file. Without choice, he notified Madeline... and Operations.
Further questioning of the Belgrade analyst revealed that the substation had, just that morning, effected several station-wide Y2K corrections. When Birkoff asked who authorized the corrections, the analyst looked confused and said, "You did, sir."
"Me? When?" Birkoff was incredulous. "I never authorized you to make any corrections to the system! Y2K or otherwise!"
He was furious but he knew he had to keep a tight rein on that anger with Madeline and Operations on the line. He waited a moment before continuing, "Who made the corrections? I need to know what they did so I can verify that the 'correction' was necessary and that it won't interfere with other systems."
The analyst was beginning to be uneasy with the way this conversation was developing. "Simmons would have normally done the work but she's out for at least six weeks. She fell last week and broke her right leg and hip, her left arm and collarbone, right wrist and three ribs. No one else here was capable of doing it, so we had to get an outside firm to do the work. They checked out," he offered lamely.
"An outside firm?" Operations' voice was ominously quiet.
Birkoff barely managed to smother his expletive. "Why didn't you contact me? That's standard procedure!"
Madeline intervened. "The damage is done. Birkoff, contact Transport and make arrangements to get to Belgrade immediately. See if you can determine if the corrections were necessary. Even if they were, we have to find out who forged your authorization." She paused and then continued with slightly more emphasis, "And we have to contact the people who made the corrections and thoroughly debrief them." She turned to the Belgrade analyst's image on the screen and said quietly, "Speak to no one about this... No one. You will give Mr. Birkoff every assistance and then accompany him back here, where you will report to me, once this matter is cleared up. Do you understand?"
The analyst's face paled noticeably. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered.
"Good. That will be all," Madeline stated. She broke the connection with the Belgrade substation and continued instructing Birkoff. "When you get to Belgrade, contact us on a secure line. It is possible that there is a mole in the substation." She turned to Operations and continued, "We have to face that possibility..." she said, taking in the skeptical look on his face. "Those injuries to Simmons are rather extensive for a 'fall.' I want to check with the medical personnel there and find out exactly what happened."
She turned back to Birkoff and said, "Take Nikita with you. She's not currently assigned to a team and she needs to work on her computer skills. She can assist you any way you think would be useful. Plus, if you determine that the corrections are potentially injurious, she will be your backup and guard while you make the required repairs."
************
Chapter 2
Belgrade
One week later
Much to everyone's surprise, Nikita proved to be very helpful. It was she who actually discovered a variant form of the original file that had caught Birkoff's attention in the first place and her discovery triggered the hair on the back of his neck. In the past, every time he'd had that sensation, something was wrong - dreadfully wrong. He had learned -- the hard way -- not to ignore the feeling.
Birkoff instituted an isolated, system-wide sweep and netted four other variations. Then he called Madeline.
As ordered, he contacted her using a protected link. To make the call even more secure, he encrypted the signal. Even though it slowed the conversation somewhat to decode as they talked, Birkoff felt it was necessary.
"You're sure?" Madeline asked, her voice calm. But the rigid control he heard in the stress she gave the two words told Birkoff she was more than angry... she was already calculating ways to get the instigators into the nearest White Room.
"I'm sure," he said flatly. "The company, Millennium Data Transfer, is legit. But..." he stopped for a moment. "I've traced the 'authorization' to them." And his tone indicated that he wanted a piece of whoever Madeline rounded up.
"How were they able to do that?" she asked... no inflection... no evident emotion. As far as anyone passing by and hearing her could tell, she might have been asking the laundry how they'd removed a stain from her favorite blouse.
"Have you accessed Simmons' medical records?"
At Birkoff's cryptic question, Madeline pulled up the relevant file. "Yes, and there is a considerable time lag between the time of her 'fall' and her admittance into the substation's medical facilities. The medical personnel there don't have a satisfactory explanation for the delay." Madeline paused, and then continued, "Are you suggesting that Simmons was turned?"
"No, not 'turned.' More likely, she was drugged or hypnotized by the mole -- and there is one here." Birkoff waited a moment to let that sink in. "Nikita and I were able to manufacture a plausible reason for our being here working on the computers that hasn't tipped our hand. We have targeted the mole and are working to isolate her without alarming her organization."
"Very good. Let me know when to expect her," Madeline said with a tight smile. "And Simmons?"
"While under the influence of the mole, she forged my authorization. Then she was injured in such a way, that when she came to, she thought she'd fallen," Birkoff explained.
"Do you recommend abeyance... or cancellation?"
Birkoff had already considered these possibilities. "No, but I think Simmons needs to be brought back to Section One for rehab and some reprogramming. In fact, I think all analysts in every substation -- and even in Section One -- should come in for reprogramming."
Madeline's eyebrows rose slightly. "Everyone? Even you?"
"Even me. What I'm thinking of is not so much 'reprogramming' as something more along the lines of the mental blocks the cold ops get for interrogation and torture. There has to be a way to prevent this from occurring again." Birkoff was very distressed to think that any of his 'people', as Madeline had once called them, had been subjected to the pain and torture that Simmons had obviously undergone.
Madeline swiftly considered the ramifications and realized that Birkoff was right. Section analysts were, as a rule, well-trained, but mainly in self-defensive measures, not in the ways to resist interrogation; the reason being, they were usually never put 'in harm's way.' She made a note to begin immediately with the analysts in Section One. "I think that's a very good idea," she said. "Arrange with Transport to get you and Simmons back here as soon as possible. Have you finished there?"
"I should be finished tomorrow -- unless something else crops up."
"How is Nikita doing? Has she been able to help you?" Madeline's question seemed so innocent, but Birkoff knew that Madeline had an ulterior motive for assigning Nikita to him for the clean up in Belgrade. Madeline always had reasons within reasons when she made assignments... he just didn't know what the particular reason was this time.
"She's been very instrumental in getting all the variations flagged." Birkoff grinned at Madeline's startled expression.
"Really?"
"Yeah. For someone not all that cyber-oriented, she's really very good at picking out oddities in programs. I almost wish..." he started.
Madeline could read his thoughts, even encrypted as they were. She chuckled slightly and interrupted him in mid-sentence, "Sorry, Birkoff, you can't have her as an analyst. She's much too good as a cold op to transfer her to Comm -- now."
"Yeah, I know." Birkoff had known what Madeline's reaction would be, even as his words slipped out. "No harm in dreaming, though. Right?" he finished with a small grin.
"None whatsoever..." Madeline replied. "as long as you remember it is just a dream. Report to me when you get in."
She gave Birkoff a slight smile as she severed the connection. His 'dream' fed the germ of an idea she was incubating about how to infiltrate Millennium Data Transfer. She flipped a button on her comm unit. Gail answered immediately.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Pull all the intel you can find on a company called Millennium Data Transfer. Top priority."
"Yes, ma'am. Top priority."
************
Chapter 3
Section One
Gail realized that something major was up when Birkoff didn't return to Section One after a couple of days. Generally he was never gone on long missions. And she missed him... terribly.
Birkoff had been gone for five days when he recommended she be put in charge of communications for a short mission that couldn't be postponed. She'd been so afraid of failing... not just the mission, but Birkoff as well. She'd hurt him terribly over the Janklow fiasco. Still, she was very gratified to learn that, while he might not have complete faith in her feelings for him anymore, he obviously hadn't lost his faith in her abilities. She wanted to prove to him that his trust wasn't misplaced.
When he hadn't returned by the end of the first week, Birkoff contacted her with specific instructions on how to begin checking the Section One computers for the contaminated files. She followed his directions explicitly and had even suggested a refinement to the 'hunt.'
Birkoff was slightly surprised -- and very impressed -- by the twist she proposed.
Unfortunately for him, Nikita witnessed his surprise and gave him a fwap -- her term for the significant swat she'd given him -- to the back of his head. His hand automatically went to the area Nikita had nailed, checking for a lump as he shot her a displeased glare.
Gail was online at the time and actually heard Nikita's hand connect. Even as she grinned at Nikita's response, she wanted to administer a roundhouse kick to that beautiful blonde head for hurting Birkoff. She managed to stifle her outrage as she listened to their banter.
"See, I told you she was good," Nikita teased.
"Whatever..." Birkoff retorted, again rubbing the spot she'd hit. He knew Nikita was doing her best to lighten the gloom that had descended on him after the third day when they had realized how extensive the damage was. He just hoped she didn't bruise the merchandise in the process.
"Gail?" Birkoff called, ignoring Nikita.
"Yeah?" she answered, her concern for him apparent in her voice.
He blushed slightly, but went on. "Gail, I'm going to be stuck here for at least another week." He sighed and then continued, "I need you to finish testing the Section One computers and to hold down the fort there 'til I get back. Do all the workstations first... even the ones in the offices. And don't forget the laptops. I think the PDAs are safe but we should check... just to be sure. I'll send all the paperwork to Madeline giving you full access to every computer. Hopefully, I'll be back before you have to do the servers. I'd rather not make you tackle them by yourself."
"You're the boss," she acknowledged, but her anxiety was very evident.
"It's about time you realized that," Birkoff teased, but he had heard the self-doubt in her voice. "You can do it, Gail. You did a great job on the Kirkendall mission."
"Thanks, but that was just routine," she said.
"Maybe... but it had its moments. You can always contact me if you have a problem." He paused a moment before going on; he wanted to say something -- anything -- to boost her self-confidence. "I'm not going to have time to monitor your work unless you really need me. You're doing fine without my watching your every keystroke."
Mustering her self-esteem, she squared her shoulders and answered, "Okay." Whatever Birkoff wanted her to do, she'd do... or she'd die trying.
He finished up, saying, "Thanks. I need to go. With any luck I'll be back early next week. After that, one of us will probably have to go out to every substation and check every computer we have," he said with a groan. "I'm going to talk to Madeline about the 'reprogramming' we talked about the other day. You were right about Simmons. Somebody got to her... and if someone could get to her, they could get to any of us."
His words chilled Gail, but she signed off and cut the connection before the frightening possibilities presented themselves to her -- did he really mean 'reprogramming?' For everyone?
Four days later Madeline asked Gail to gather intel on Millennium Data Transfer.
************
Chapter 4
Late that evening
"Millennium Data Transfer, Inc. A privately held telecommunications company with no obvious ties to any known terrorist group. They've been dealing mainly in telecom hardware products since 1985, but they have, in recent years, added a software division, and are currently extensively involved in the Year 2000 compliancy issue." Gail paused to catch her breath. "We had cleared them originally for hardware-related issues, but they have never been okayed for on-site repairs and never for software issues."
Madeline was 'communing' with her bonsai when Gail began, but at the last statement, she swiveled in her chair and leveled her gaze at the red-head.
Gail waited... stock still... not even breathing... hoping and praying that Madeline wouldn't 'kill the messenger' because of that bit of information. She could tell all the way down in the soles of her feet that Madeline didn't like this report.
"So, not only did they manage to subvert a Section operative, but they somehow managed to 'change' their contract?" Madeline began, her voice deceptively quiet. "Does Birkoff know this?"
Gail breathed again. "Yes ma'am. I contacted him and let him know what little I'd found out just before I came to you with it. I thought he could use the intel to help isolate the mole."
Madeline pondered that for a moment and then asked, "Is there any more?"
"Very little at this time. I'm still checking a few leads. Jacob and Irene are working on the financial end. I did find out that MDT has already completed numerous contracts with several major world-wide telecommunications agencies -- private, public and military. I haven't spoken to any of them yet to determine what kind of work MDT did -- or if any of them have discovered the problems we've uncovered. I wanted to get you this information as quickly as I could. For some of the contacts -- the military in particular -- I may have to get higher security clearances which will take some time. I'll get started on them tonight."
"Thank you, Gail, but it's been a long day. This can wait until morning. Get some rest and start fresh tomorrow."
Gail was stunned. Madeline's voice implied that she was pleased with Gail's willingness to work into the wee hours and that she, Gail, was a valuable commodity, not to be expended needlessly. But before Gail could comment, Madeline continued. "Has Birkoff determined what the virus would have done if they hadn't been detected?"
Gail shook her head. "No ma'am. He's been too busy cleaning up the mess." She continued, "I do know he found out that the 'fixes' weren't necessary. I believe Nikita has been looking at what would have happened, but I don't know what she's found. Mel and Grif are working on it from this end also, but they haven't found anything either." Gail sighed as she finished her report, thankful to be able to end with a positive note, "So far, we've not found the virus or any of the variations on any workstation here in Section One, but we haven't checked the servers yet. Birkoff wants to do that himself."
"Good. Let me know anything else you discover about MDT and be sure to pass it on to Birkoff when he arrives. He should be back tomorrow afternoon sometime." Madeline was amused to see the relief flooding the younger woman's face.
Madeline had been very impressed with Gail these past two weeks... the young analyst was blossoming into an rather unlikely leader. She still didn't know how to pace herself, but that would come with responsibility and experience. Now if she just doesn't regress when Birkoff gets back, Madeline thought. She said, "That will be all, Gail, thank you. Good night."
"Good night, Madeline," she said calmly as she turned to leave the office. She paused and then plucked up her courage to ask, "Are you working late? Would you like me stop by the kitchen on my way out and have Christopher send you up something?"
Madeline was surprised... and pleased... that Gail had managed to ask the question at all. Most operatives never worked up the nerve to ask her a direct, non-mission related question until they'd been in the Section for many years. Nikita had... and now Gail. Was it possible that those two were cut from the same cloth?
"Thank you, Gail. I'd appreciate it very much."
************
Chapter 5
Section One
Three days later
It hadn't been easy, but Birkoff and Nikita had been able to clean the Belgrade substation computers without alerting MDT.
"If MDT is monitoring the files -- and I'm sure they must be -- nothing looks different. The files are the same size with the same modification dates as before." Birkoff reported to Madeline, Michael and Operations during his debrief. "I've also created a program to return things to normal once we've stopped MDT."
"What are their intentions? Could you determine what the files would have done if left alone?" Michael's soft voice interjected.
Birkoff's head swiveled toward Michael and then back to Operations. "Yeah. Total melt-down. We figured out that the virus would self-activate at 12:01am on January 1, 2000. And that when it went active..." he paused. "... it would burn out every comm chip associated with that workstation."
"You mean just the chips attached to the motherboard or..." Operations asked.
"No, sir," Birkoff interrupted. "Not just the attached chips. Any comm chip that attempted to access that workstation after the virus was activated would be fried -- comm units, computers, telephones, satellites..." Birkoff let his voice fade.
He had been horrified when Nikita had informed him what she thought the virus had been designed to do. He'd thought surely she'd misread something... she wasn't an analyst after all. But when Grif confirmed Nikita's findings, Birkoff's blood had run cold.
Everything the Section did depended on getting intel from one place to another. And it transferred that information via telecommunications. If anything happened to Comm, chaos would erupt -- Section couldn't function!
"How?" Operations' voice was a mixture of anger, bewilderment, and disbelief.
Birkoff sighed and explained, "It's done all the time. Whenever you download a file or program from a host computer you're vulnerable. You don't have to actually be in physical contact with the host to catch a virus -- you usually get them through a contaminated floppy disk, but you can also get them via the Internet -- even email." He waited a moment. Even he had been impressed with the capability of the virus.
"This virus actually piggy-backs over to the remote site by copying itself onto any file being downloaded and then it just goes along for the ride. Once it's in the remote computer, it detaches itself, locates the boot files and hooks up with them." Birkoff almost smiled, but he wasn't sure how Operations would react, so instead, he kept his face carefully neutral.
"Are you sure that's how it is spread?" Madeline asked.
"Yes. We spent the better part of the last three days moving it from one computer to another just like that. And it doesn't care if the remote computer is already contaminated or not. It just writes over itself each time a dirty file is downloaded. Then it repeats the process. Computer A infects two computers; those two computers each spread it to two other computers; those four computers each pass it on to two more computers; those eight spread it to sixteen; and so on and so on."
Operations dropped gracelessly into the nearest chair. "My god," he whispered.
"Yes sir," Birkoff answered almost as quietly. "We were lucky we caught it the day the virus was actually introduced. We normally download stuff back and forth from any given substation seven or eight times a mission. If we hadn't discovered it and locked down the Belgrade computers... God only knows how rampant the virus might be by now."
"How do we prevent being reinfected?" Michael asked, his voice indicating that he had all the confidence in the world in Birkoff's ability to stop MDT in their collective tracks.
"As we clean each computer, we're installing a transparent filtering program to look for viruses in any file being downloaded. The user won't even know the program is there unless the download is stopped," Birkoff began. He glanced around the small room before continuing. "If the filter doesn't recognize all the processes and components of an incoming file or program it will halt the download and alert the nearest authorized senior analyst. All those analysts will be trained in what to look for and how to sweep the file for variations."
Madeline probed the issue further. "What are the possibilities of an operative bypassing the filter?" Birkoff knew she was thinking of Simmons and how she'd been used to bypass long-standing procedures.
Birkoff turned to look Madeline in the eye. "Almost non-existent. The filtering program is also designed to alert me or my designee when anyone tries to subvert it. The hackers we have in Section are good, but they're not good enough to get around this."
Madeline's eyebrows rose fractionally. "Even Greg Hillinger?"
"Greg helped design it," Birkoff said with satisfaction. "When he saw how the virus infiltrates and what it was designed to do, he was more than willing to help." His eyes swept the room again and then turned back to Madeline. "His job was to design the body of the filtering program in a way to prevent hackers from disabling or bypassing it. We checked it again this morning. Even using his administrative privileges, Greg can't break it. Once the filter is installed, it can't be altered or disabled except by two authorized operatives."
"Who?" Madeline tilted her head slightly. Birkoff's choice would be an enlightening glimpse into his psyche.
"My choice?" he asked. She nodded.
"My choice... Me... you... Operations... Michael... someone outside Section's analyst cadre... Nikita. It would probably be best to have several in each substation in case of an emergency." Birkoff's tone indicated he had carefully thought the issue out and had weighed each person's real and potential motives.
Madeline dipped her chin to hide her smile from Operations. Having Nikita's name on that list was like waving a red flag at an already enraged bull.
But for once, Operations surprised Madeline. Instead of reacting to the mention of the one person he considered to be the bane of his existence, Operations turned to her and asked, "Has Gail finished contacting the agencies MDT has contracts with?"
"Not quite, but she's made significant headway in just 36 hours," Madeline said lifting her eyes to his. "She informed me just before this meeting that 60% of the agencies with contracts with MDT have major telecommunications satellites in orbit or about to be launched. Needless to say, they are not pleased with the possibility of losing billions of dollars of hardware if this 'thing' is allowed to happen."
"Who discovered the purpose of the virus?" Michael asked.
Birkoff swiveled to face him. "Nikita... just before we left Belgrade. Grif was able to confirm her assessment by the time we landed."
Beyond a slight widening of his eyes, Michael didn't seem too surprised that Nikita had figured out what the virus would do. The same could not be said for Operations. This time, Nikita's name produced the usual effect.
"Nikita?!?" Operations eyes almost bulged. He sputtered, "Are you telling me... a non-analyst... a cold op... figured out what these files... programs... whatever they are... were designed to do? Before your top analysts did?"
Birkoff carefully hid his smile. "Yes, sir. She did." He let Operations pace the length of the table before he added, "It's a brilliant concept, really. The programs were 'hidden' almost in plain sight. Grif and Mel weren't looking at the basic files... they were concentrating mainly on the major program files." He paused, then continued, "It would be the same in most of the companies and agencies MDT has dealt with; the senior systems administrators would make sure their proprietary files hadn't been damaged or altered, but they wouldn't think to check the boot files beyond testing the Y2K parameters."
He paused to make sure that Operations was following his line of reasoning before he continued. "Because Nikita didn't have the expertise to read the proprietary files, she checked out the boot files... the basic, everyday stuff that actually runs the computer. That's where the virus lives."
Madeline watched Birkoff closely. She realized that he had probably hit upon the same idea that she had. Give Nikita an implanted comm device, get her in at MDT headquarters, and let her find out why the virus was developed and, possibly even more important, how to stop it before it was activated.
But before Madeline or Birkoff could suggest it, Michael did. He turned to face Operations before speaking. "We need to get inside MDT," he said, pausing long enough for Operations to focus on him. "Because she knows what to look for, I think Nikita should be the one go in; she's the logical choice."
Operations' ice-blue eyes pinned Michael. "Nikita as a computer analyst? It boggles the mind."
Madeline stopped him before he could go any further. "Michael's right. She is the most logical choice. All she'd need is a subcutaneous comm implant so Birkoff could be in constant communication with her... but for that and establishing a cover for her, she could go in tomorrow."
"Actually," Michael interrupted. "I have already developed a cover for her as a chip design specialist. It was to be used in the aborted mission to Zagreb last year. She is familiar with it. It wouldn't take much to finesse and deepen the cover and bring her up to speed." He looked at Madeline.
"I'd forgotten the Zagreb cover." Madeline smiled. "Yes, that will work nicely."
************
Chapter 6
MDT Headquarters
One month later
"I'm sure it will be a pleasure working with you, Nikita. We haven't hired a new face around here in a long while. And such a pretty face at that!"
Nikita smiled at the middle-aged man as they shook hands, noting how the smile on his round face didn't quite reach his almond-shaped, dark brown eyes. I'm not sure he likes me, Nikita thought. I'd better watch my back. God, I wish Michael or Birkoff could have come in here with me.
"Well, I'll try to be a bit more than just another pretty face, Mr. Veireck. I'm looking forward to getting to know the staff and the complete lineup of MDT products. It's exciting to think about all the things I can learn here. Maybe I'll even be able to teach you something," she said, cutting her sky blue eyes toward him shyly as she delicately pushed her glasses up on top her head.
Nikita's voice was soft and a bit raspy. It was that particular tone, she knew, that intrigued men most. Usually the guy couldn't decide if she was coming on to him or if she just needed to clear her throat. And it rarely failed to get her past the stumbling blocks and other obstacles that threatened to derail her missions. Somehow, something in her eyes combined with that tone in her voice almost always convinced the guy that he was the only man in the world for her.
Mentally she applauded as she watch Veireck's unconscious shift in his shoulders as he smiled in self-congratulatory smugness. Gotcha! You just think you scored!
"Ni-ki-ta... put your glasses back down! How am I going to be able to tell you what you're supposed to be doing if you keep shoving them on top your head? Huh?"
Birkoff's peeved voice filled her head. She didn't so much hear his words as much as she felt them in the bones of her head. It had taken a while before she'd gotten used to the subcutaneous comm unit. The sound from it was completely different from the regular surface units she normally used.
"Sor-ry..." she subvocalized. "Habit."
She and Birkoff had worked for thirty-nine hours straight, improving her technique with the implanted transmitter so that he could understand every word she uttered... no matter how tired she was. And she knew from that training, that if Veireck heard anything, he only heard her sigh.
"Okay, okay. Let's get the show on the road. If you're through there, see if you can get Veireck to walk you to your office. I'm building the vocal database on him and the more I can get now, the less I might have to construct later," Birkoff said, accepting her apology.
Nikita thought rapidly. Okay, she thought. Let's see what a little tea and sympathy can extract. Aloud, as she turned to leave the sumptuously appointed office, she said, "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea? I usually have my second cup once I get into my office each day. It helps me ground my thoughts on the business of the day."
Veireck started to refuse, but Nikita interjected a slight note of pleading into her voice as she continued. "Besides, I'm not sure I can find my way back without a guide. Your aide, Mr. Talmar, took me on a tour of the plant before bringing me here this morning, so I'm not exactly sure where I am!"
"How ungallant of Alex," Veireck said with a slight bow and a laugh. "I must remedy that immediately. It would be a pleasure to escort you to your office." With that he led the way out of the central block of corporate offices.
As they walked down the hall toward the lab area, dropping her chin, Nikita glanced once more at Veireck and said quietly, "I was stunned to hear that the person originally hired for this job was killed in that horrible accident. I understand she was distantly related to you." Turning her gaze directly toward Veireck, she finished, "I am so sorry for your loss."
Veireck glanced quickly at Nikita and saw the sorrow reflected in her eyes. "I thank you. Yes, she was related to me but not by blood; she was my nephew's wife's sister." He hesitated and then went on, "They were both devastated and their pain has left it's mark on me. Kamran would have been an incredible asset to MDT, but now..." He shrugged and let his voice trail away.
After another momentary pause, he straightened his shoulders and gave himself a small shake. "But now, we have you to fill the void her death created."
"I hope I can live up to your expectations," Nikita said.
They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes before Veireck asked Nikita how she had heard about the job opening so quickly. "We hadn't decided whether to re-advertise, or just re-evaluate the résumès we already had."
"Actually a friend of mine, Nadia Chernikova, applied when the position first opened," she answered. "She'd just accepted a position with another firm when she heard about the accident; she gave me the heads-up since she knew I was ready to leave my old job. I'm really grateful she did. And I'm even more grateful you hired me." Nikita's eyes grew dark as she continued, "I know you couldn't -- legally -- ask me before, but I want to tell you now why I needed to leave my old job."
"Oh? Is there a problem I should know about? None of your references mentioned any problem." Veireck was taken aback, fearing he'd been duped into hiring this beautiful young woman.
"No... no problem really. My boss was starting to harass me..." Nikita dropped her eyes as she hastily calmed his fears. "Sexually, I mean. She threatened to stonewall the production of a chip I'd designed if I didn't go along with her." Nikita trembled slightly as she stressed the pronoun.
"That's not my thing, you know?" she continued, her voice again thin and raspy. "Anyway, I told her that if she'd let me leave the company immediately... without any marks against me... I wouldn't sue. I had a letter drawn up by my attorney for her to sign." Nikita shrugged. "She signed it... and if I ever -- ever -- hear so much as a whisper of a rumor about why I left... she knows I'll haul her into court so fast, it'll make her head spin," she finished vehemently.
"Have you any evidence against her that would stand up in a court of law?" Veireck was incredulous that, in this day and age of sexual harassment suits, any supervisor still indulged in that type of behavior.
Defensively, Nikita wrapped her arms across her chest and her eyes glistened like blue granite. "Yeah," she whispered. "I've got evidence." And the anger in her voice was apparent... even to Birkoff.
"Whoa!"Birkoff whistled low. "I know the scenario and you've even got me believing you!" Jeez, I'd love to be a fly on the wall, he thought, when Madeline and Michael listen to the mission tapes. They really need to re-evaluate their ideas about her ability as an actress!
Veireck continued walking beside Nikita as he silently assessed his new employee. He heard the pain in her voice -- felt the fury radiating from her. Suddenly -- despite his years of managerial experience telling him not to get involved -- he wanted to protect this fascinating creature from all the terrors life might have in store for her. He stopped abruptly, his passion surprising him, as he heard himself say, with quiet conviction, "If this woman -- or anyone here for that matter -- ever distresses you, promise me, Nikita, promise me -- that you will come to me about it. Please?"
Nikita turned to face him, stunned by the enormity of what he was offering. She looked directly at him and replied solemnly, "I promise."
After a moment, they started walking again, but the air around them still vibrated with raw emotions. Finally, Nikita broke the silence. "I do hope you will join me for that cup of tea, Mr. Veireck. It's the least I can offer my new protector."
"I would be honored," Veireck said, giving her a slight bow.
"Great!" Nikita's smile was radiant.
With that, they entered Nikita's new office and she began the ritual of preparing tea.
************
Chapter 7
"Mr. Veireck... you're kidding, right? I mean... I've only been here a few weeks," Nikita began.
"No, Nikita, I am not 'kidding.' I'm putting you in charge of the Y2K division. I've been watching you closely. Your concentration on your work is most singular. I've never seen anything like it! And your work... As I told you when I moved you into the software division two weeks ago, I think we started you in the wrong area. You've been a brilliant asset... particularly with our Year 2000 contracts."
This was an unexpected -- but not an unwelcome -- development. The mission profile only required getting her inside the complex. Now Nikita should be able to discover exactly why MDT had created the virus.
Since that first cup of tea in Nikita's office, Veireck had made a point to join her every day for her 'second cup' as she called it. During that time, they had sounded each other out about their favorite music and foods... about the state of the world's stock markets... about the problems encountered when dealing with culturally diverse peoples. For twenty minutes each morning, over steaming cups of Darjeeling, Assam, Ceylon, or Lapsang Souchong tea, they exchanged pleasantries and ideologies.
Nikita found him charming in an 'Old World' sort of way and Veireck decided that she was the face of the 21st century. He was chauvinistic and she was self-assured as only a woman of one of the superpower nations could be. But neither of them were overbearing or obnoxious.
"Nikita, I think it's time we recognized why you are really here," Veireck continued as he turned to examine the painting on the wall.
They were again in his elegant office. It had been a long day and she had finally accepted his offer of dinner... an invitation he extended at least twice week and one she had always refused -- until today. They were waiting for Veireck's car to be brought to the door when he made his astonishing statement.
Nikita's feature's froze in fear of what he might say next. She could tell that Birkoff, too, was holding his breath. She hoped like hell he was setting off all kinds of alarms in Section in case back up was going to be necessary to get her out!
"I thought I was here to design chips," she finally managed to say.
Veireck threw back his head and let out a joyous laugh. "Oh, my dear! You are such an innocent! No -- Allah sent you to fill not only the void he created when he called Kamran to his side... He sent you to fill the void in my life as well. We are so well matched, you and I!" He turned to face her, his joy apparent in his voice and eyes. "Allah knows my every need and He continually provides for me." His voice was reverent as he slowly approached Nikita.
"M- Mr. Veireck..." she began, stuttering. "I don't understand..." She let her voice fade to a whisper. Over the past few weeks, she'd realized that Veireck was spending more and more time with her. Besides joining her everyday for tea, he would stop by her office at odd times, visit her while she worked in the lab. She wasn't sure, but she thought he had even followed her home occasionally. Either he was falling in love with her or he was trying to probe her real reason for being there.
"Josef... My name is Josef and I wish you to call me by it...I long to hear you say it... not the oh-so-formal 'Mr. Veireck'," he said softly as he reached out and gently pushed back a stray lock of her blond hair, tucking it tenderly behind her ear.
Nikita was stunned. This was not in the profile! But she knew she would have to play the hand she'd just been dealt anyway. Section would not let this opportunity pass no matter how much it might distress her.
MDT Headquarters
Six weeks later
"I've alerted Madeline. She says to go along with him."
Birkoff's voice in her head, confirmed her thoughts. "Figures," she subvocalized, glancing down to cover her confusion... and irritation. She kept her chin down as she said quietly, "Mr. Vei... I mean, Josef... what are you saying?"
"What I am saying, my beautiful Nikita, is that I can't stand the thought of living the rest of my life without you. I want you by my side always," he replied with ardor. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and gazed down at her. "Please... please say you will." With that he raised one hand to her chin and gently tilted her head up. "Please, Nikita."
"Are... you asking me... to... marry you?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion. "What of your family... and your faith, Josef? They wouldn't allow it. To them I am an outsider..."
"Yes, I am asking you to marry me," he said. He gathered her into a loving embrace as he continued, "And my family already knows how I feel about you... they are so happy I have finally found someone! They had almost given up hope!"
"I can't believe it," Nikita whispered into his shoulder. "I never dreamed you could ever see me as anything other than an employee. When...?" she asked as she pulled away from his embrace, her eyes brimming with tears.
"When what? When did I fall in love with you, or when shall we be married?" His voice playfully taunting her, softened as he went on, "I fell in love with you the first day I met you... the first time I looked into your incredible eyes as you told me of your last job... the first time we had tea. I knew then that Allah had caused our paths to cross. I needed someone to complete me and you needed someone to protect you."
Nikita gave him a watery smile. "I never knew tea was such a powerful love potion!" she said with a small giggle. "I'll have to remember that."
"Oh no, my dear, you will serve tea only to me from now on!" Veireck said playfully. Then his eyes grew sober as he said, "But you are right about one thing... my faith will not let us marry in the tradition of my people. Does that upset you?"
She paused before finally looking into his face. "No, not as long as we can be together," Nikita answered with her smile lighting up her face. "When?"
"As soon as I can arrange things. Why?" he asked, his face taking on a slightly puzzled expression.
"I need to know so I can plan my trousseau! A girl can't get married in a lab coat, you know!" she said laughing.
Veireck pulled her again into his arms and gently kissed her. "Thank you, Allah!" he breathed.
They stood locked in each others arms, until there was a knock on the office door. Guiltily Nikita sprang away from Josef as the door opened to reveal Alex Talmar, Veireck's aide.
"Alex! Come, congratulate me! She said yes!" Veireck announced exuberantly.
Alex Talmar looked with affection at Veireck and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, my dear friend! May Allah watch over you and give you many sons as lucky as you and daughters as beautiful as their mother!" He turned to Nikita and continued, "And to you as well. I have seldom seen two people so perfectly suited. May Allah's blessings rain down upon you both!" With that he executed a small bow and then turned back to Veireck. "The car is here," he said simply.
"Thank you, Alex, from the bottom of my heart." He turned to Nikita, took her hand and asked, "Shall we go, my dear?"
"Certainly," she said smiling. Then she looked beyond Veireck to Alex and said, "I, too, thank you for your good wishes. It means a great deal to me."
************
Chapter 8
As they settled themselves in the back seat of the limousine, Nikita asked, "Josef? Will I still be able to work at MDT after we're married?"
"Oh, heart of my heart, you shall be my mainstay there. I could not leave you at home every morning! Were you afraid that I wouldn't let you continue the valuable work you are doing?" he said, teasing her.
"Yes, I was, actually," she admitted with a small grin. "I couldn't decide if you would be an autocratic husband or not." She looked out the window at the passing scenery and asked, "Where are we going?"
"Would it be too much of a strain for you if I said my mother's?" He looked apprehensively at her.
"Oh, Josef... I don't know. I must look a fright... my hair... my clothes!" Nikita gestured wildly toward her simple sheath dress. Actually, now she was thankful that she had decided to wear it today. The light blue polyester, rayon, and spandex combination withstood the rigors of lab work while still always managing to look fresh. He caught her hand as she tried to smooth her hair.
"You look beautiful," he said, kissing her hand. "My mother has been expecting this almost from the first. She knew even before I did that I couldn't live without you. She has the reputation of being able to see into people's hearts and exposing their innermost secrets!" he said in a stage whisper.
Nikita snuggled into Veireck's arms again, seemingly content with their destination. But her mind was reeling. Great, she thought wildly. Just what I need!
As much as she wanted to talk to Birkoff, she didn't dare -- not this close to Veireck. And she hoped that Birkoff wouldn't choose that moment to speak to her. She wasn't at all sure that the road noise and vibrations would cover the little noise he would make.
Nikita felt Birkoff's whisper and shifted in Veireck's arms so that her head rested on the back of the seat rather than on his shoulder.
The home of Madame Veireck
"I've checked Veireck's bio. His mother does seem to be clairvoyant. Madeline suggests that you stay calm and keep your mind clear while you are there."
Gee thanks! I'll never be able to conceal anything from her! But I've got to! Her thoughts racing. Birkoff's tone suggested that he thought pigs would fly before Nikita learned to successfully hide her emotions. I'll show you, Seymour! she decided. Then she began the breathing rituals she used for her yoga exercises. She cleared her mind of everything... her fears about meeting Veireck's mother... her worries about the mission... Veireck's arm about her shoulders... Michael... everything. If Veireck noticed anything, he'd assume she was preparing herself to meet his family, which in truth she was.
As the car turned into the long drive of his mother's estate, Veireck lightly touched Nikita's cheek. "My darling, we are almost there," he whispered softly.
Her eyes fluttered open and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry," she began. "I wasn't very good company," she said glancing down again. "But it's not every day a girl gets a proposal of marriage and meets her future mother-in-law for the first time!"
"No, you are perfect. I really should have given you more time to get used to the idea, but my mother's health is precarious. And I wanted you to meet her while she is still able to get about."
"I understand. Of course, I'm excited to meet her. You've told me a lot about her over tea, you know... so it's not like she's a complete stranger." Nikita smiled again at the look of delight in Veireck's face.
"Okay... Nikita, focus your glasses a bit. The image I'm getting is a little blurred."
Nikita removed her glasses, opened her purse and removed a hair clip and a comb. Deftly, she swept the comb through her hair, pulling it back from the sides of her face and demurely anchoring it at the top of her head with the clip. She loosened a few wisps of hair to fall delicately in front of her ears. Then she tossed the comb back into her bag and dug out a compact and a tube of lipstick. She quickly swiped the small powder puff over her forehead, cheeks, and nose. Holding the compact open with her left hand, she popped the cover off the lipstick and swiftly applied the pale color to her lips. Finished, she snapped the compact closed, put the cover back on the tube, and tossed everything back into her purse. She slipped her glasses back on and gracefully pushed them into position, touching the correct spot on the temple to adjust the focus for Birkoff.
"Much better. Thanks."
Nikita turned and smiled at Veireck. He had watched her actions with increasing delight. The armor behind which women steeled themselves always fascinated him. "You are incredible, my dear."
"Haven't you ever seen a woman fix her hair and makeup?" she asked, her face lighting up.
"Yes... but it took my sisters hours to do what you accomplished in less than three minutes! I have never known anyone quite like you before. You have bewitched me," he said, once again lifting her hand to his lips.
The limousine halted in front of a massive set of carved oak doors, which revealed a quick glimpse of a large Moorish-style hall as the butler stepped forward to open the car door.
"Welcome home, sir. I trust your day went well," the imposingly tall butler said.
"It was a good day, Salah. How is my mother today?" Veireck asked as he helped Nikita from the car.
"She's been excited all day, sir. She knew something good would happen today. May I, on behalf of all the staff, congratulate you, sir... and miss?" Salah said with a small bow.
"Thank you, Salah. I should have known Mother would know before anyone else... including me!" Veireck turned with a grin back to Nikita. "Come, I can't wait for you two to meet."
Nikita murmured her thanks to the butler and followed Veireck into the great hall.
Veireck moved confidently through the large room. He turned to the left and, taking Nikita's hand in his, he opened one of the doors on the left side of the room. Still holding her hand, he drew Nikita into a small, cosy drawing room lit only by soft lamplight and the glow from a fire burning brightly on the hearth.
It took a moment for Nikita's eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, but she was aware of a presence in the room as soon as she crossed the threshold. Her courage almost failed her. Steeling herself, she scanned the room for the woman she knew was there. What she saw shook her even more.
In a large, overstuffed chair a very small woman sat ensconced in blankets, pillows and shawls, her face, creased with the wrinkles of time and life, turned eagerly toward the door. As Nikita approached the chair in Veireck's wake, she felt the mental barriers she'd erected fall. Her mind opened to the delicately probing touches she felt.
"Mother, may I present..." he paused as he glanced back at Nikita.
"Yes, I know... Nikita." The small voice matched the tiny woman in every way. She continued with a smile, "My dear, it is wonderful to meet you at last. My son talks about you a great deal."
"Madame Veireck, it is an honor to meet you. I never imagined this morning when I woke that I'd be meeting my employer's mother tonight," Nikita began.
"Nor, I imagine, that you would be engaged to that employer before the end of the day," Madame Veireck chuckled. "And since you will be family soon, call me Maman. I understand your own mother is dead. Please allow me to sit in her place."
Nikita knelt quickly in front of the diminutive creature and raised her face. "Then you do not mind? You don't mind that your son marries outside your faith?" Nikita's eyes filled with tears as she waited.
"Oh, my dear child, no. Of course I don't mind. I only want my son to be happy... and he has found his happiness with you." With that, Madame Veireck reached out to brush away the tears on Nikita's cheek.
Almost immediately, as Madame's hand stroked Nikita's face, Nikita felt something like a charge of electricity surge through her body. Her world shrank into itself... and for a moment she almost blacked out. She concentrated on the light touch of Maman's hand as she fought her way back. She couldn't believe that what she had seen in that instant was real. Maman is the clairvoyant, not me!
"Nikita!? Are you alright? What happened?"
"My dear, are you alright?" Madame's voice seemed far away, her question echoing Birkoff's.
Nikita raised frightened eyes to the old woman's face, "Oh, Maman... I saw things... I never see things... not like that! What does it means!"
Madame reached out to her son and took his hand gently in her own. "Leave us, Josef. I must speak to Nikita alone."
"But Mother..." Veireck began.
"Don't fret, it will only be for a little while. I will call you when we are finished," Madame said soothingly.
"Yes, Mother," he said submissively. Then he faced Nikita and continued, "Don't be frightened. Mother will help you." He turned slowly and left the room, closing the door as he went out.
"Tell me what you saw," Madame said quietly.
************
Chapter 9
Nikita sat back on her heels and gathered her rattled thoughts. What had she seen? Better still, what on earth had happened? Whatever it was, even Birkoff had 'felt' it. She put her hands to her cheeks and said, "I saw... you... and Josef... and me. Someone else was there, but I couldn't make out his face," Nikita began. "We were all in black and there was a wall separating us. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get over or through the wall and neither could either of you. The other man tried to help me, but I still couldn't get to you." Nikita was openly crying now.
"You almost made it, Maman... you were trying to tell me something. As I watched, the wall began to fall, onto Josef. Through the noise of the crashing wall of stone, I could finally hear you. You were telling me to save myself... and the other man... but not Josef. Save us from what? Why not Josef? Maman! I was so frightened. Please... what does it mean?"
Instead of answering Nikita, Madame Veireck gazed meditatively at the fire for a long moment. Then she looked back at Nikita. "I am sorry that had to happen to you. For those unaware of their abilities, it is rather daunting the first time it happens."
"Abilities? What abilities?" Nikita asked, sitting back on her heels, still at Madame's feet.
"Abilities? What abilities?" Birkoff echoed.
"Have you ever had your psychic abilities tested, my dear?"
She shook her head in response. Nikita was shocked.
"Psychic abilities?" Wait 'til Madeline hears this!
"It has been an emotional day for you, hasn't it?" Madame didn't wait for Nikita's answer as she continued. "I am afraid, it isn't going to be any easier for you now, either. You must be strong, Nikita. You cannot marry Josef."
"What? Why?" Now Nikita was truly confused.
"As much as he loves you -- and he does love you very much -- he is not the one meant for you. There is someone else waiting for you." Madame paused for a moment, considering how to tell the distraught young woman before her the rest. "In fact, you will destroy my son."
She said it so quietly, Nikita almost didn't hear the words. When she realized what Maman had said, Nikita was horror-stricken. She knows! She will tell him!
"Oh, Maman, no!"
"Yes, Nikita. You will destroy him and everything he is working toward. It is only right. He seeks to topple the world we know and it is your job to stop him."
"What!?" Nikita whispered, almost paralyzed by her fear.
"Do not worry, I will never say a word to Josef. I, too, have been working to stop him, but to no avail." Maman looked sadly into the fire again. After a moment she sighed and turned again to face Nikita. "You will succeed where I have failed. You must."
"What is it he means to do, Maman?" Nikita asked with gentle urgency.
"I don't know, but you must stop him," Madame said earnestly.
They sat for a while in silence before Nikita spoke again. "What did you mean by abilities? What abilities?"
Madame straightened her shoulders and replied, "You have latent psychic abilities, my dear. When I touched you, my... powers... if you want to call them that... reached out to yours. Like spoke to like, if you will." She paused again and then with a slight twinkle in her eyes, she said, "I'd be willing to wager that you have a very strong sense of intuition. I'm right, aren't I? And you get in trouble for trusting that intuition on occasion." Maman raised an eyebrow slightly at Nikita's chagrined nod.
"That intuition has been, until now..." Madame continued. "... the only outward manifestation of your ability. There is more where that came from. But you must be tested and trained. Otherwise, these forces will eventually be out of control... and they will take you with them." Madame leaned back and closed her eyes briefly.
Nikita watched her closely.
"Madeline's on her way down. I thought she'd better be in on this particular part of the loop."
Nikita dropped her eyes and subvocalized to Birkoff, "Thanks."When she looked up again, Madame was watching her.
Nikita's eyes filled with tears again as she asked, "How do I tell him 'no', Madame, when I've already said 'yes'?"
"He will know... just by looking into your eyes, my dear. And please continue to call me Maman. You have no idea how it lightens my heart, even now... knowing you are going to deprive me of a son... and a daughter." Madame gazed lovingly at Nikita. "I know that whatever you have to do to stop him, you will do. But I also know that what you have to do will eat at you and that it will try to undermine your resolve." Madame leaned forward and gently cupped Nikita's face between her hands. "Do not let it side track you. You are the only one who can stop Josef. While you were seeing your visions, I was seeing mine."
"Nikita?"
Madeline's voice sounded in her head. Nikita tried not to allow the relief she felt to show on her face. She answered softly, "Yes?"
"Do you trust her not to tell Veireck?"
Madeline's question startled Nikita, but she considered carefully before subvocalizing, "I -- yes."
"If you trust her, you may tell her what we know about Veireck. Do not, however, tell her anything beyond that. Do you understand?"
Madeline's tone was stern but oddly compassionate. Nikita was grateful. When this is over, I've got to remember to thank Madeline, she thought. She knows how much it upsets me to hurt innocents... and Madame... no Maman... is as innocent as they come. Her only fault is that she gave birth to a madman. "Yes."
Nikita softly asked, "What did you see, Maman?"
Madame Veireck sighed and drew Nikita up onto the ottoman beside her chair. "Do not distress yourself with that, dear child."
"It will distress me more... not knowing how much of the grief that hangs over you is brought about by my hand," Nikita said, her voice as tense as her body. Her luminous eyes begged the tiny woman for absolution. "Please forgive me, Maman, and give me your blessing for what I must do."
"Child of my heart, you were forgiven before you ever entered my son's life. Josef does not know it, but my visions have shown me his death for over a year now." Madame held onto Nikita's hand like a drowning victim to a lifeline. "In fact, I knew before he was born that his heart would be filed with hatred and... that the one he loved would destroy him. I had hoped that my visions were wrong, but year after year has proved them correct."
"Oh, Maman. I am so sorry. I would willingly disobey my orders to avoid hurting you in any way. But if I don't do it, someone else will. And they won't care who they hurt." Nikita's expression was as bleak as her heart. She sighed heavily, and then continued, "Actually we don't know Josef's intentions. We only know what he was planning to do. Can you... will you hear me out?"
Wearily, Madame nodded, "Of course, dear Nikita. I hope I am always able to listen to the truth... no matter how painful."
Quickly, in the simplest terms, Nikita explained what Veireck was planning to do; how he planned to knock out all communication capabilities on January 1, 2000; how he was using MDT as a front toward that end; how she had come to work for him -- to stop him.
"So you see, Maman, we know how... we just don't know why," Nikita said softly. "Is there anything you can tell me about him that might give me some insight as to why he is planning this?"
Madame straightened her shoulders and lifted her head with resolution. "My dear, we don't have enough time tonight. I must call Josef back before he becomes worried. Follow my lead during dinner, and I will find a way for us to meet tomorrow."
Nikita struggled to compose herself as she nodded, "Yes, Maman."
"Good girl." She inhaled and exhaled sharply and then said, "Now, press the button on the table, please." Nikita pressed it and was rewarded with a sweet smile from the tiny woman opposite.
The door opened and Salah entered sedately. "Yes, Madame?" he said.
"Salah, please find my son and ask him to return to us," Madame Veireck replied calmly, once more in control of her immediate world. "He is probably in the kitchen," she added with a wry grin to Nikita.
"Yes, Madame." With that Salah walked silently from the room and gently closed the door after him.
Neither Nikita nor Madame said anything as they waited for Veireck to rejoin them, but their eyes spoke volumes. Slowly Madame removed a slim gold band from a gnarled finger, reached for Nikita's right hand and held it for a moment before slipping the ring over the knuckle of Nikita's little finger.
"I want you to always think of me when you wear this," Madame said quietly.
Before Nikita could answer, the door opened again and Veireck strode into the room, his forehead slightly furrowed. As he approached the two women he asked, "What on earth took so long? I was beginning to get wor..." His words trailed off as he caught sight of their solemn faces. "What is it, Mother? Nikita?"
Nikita raised her face to his. "I'm so sorry, Josef..." Her voice caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes. She was amazed at the sorrowful understanding in them. Maman was right... he does know! she thought.
"No, my dear, it is I who am sorry. I should have known better than to presume to know what Allah intends," he said with resigned gentleness.
Veireck knelt beside his mother's chair and gently placed his head on her shoulder. Madame raised her hand to stroke his cheek, and said, "I too am sorry that it was not meant to be. I looked forward to having a new daughter and to the happiness she would bring."
Nikita's eyes brimmed with tears again as she thought of all she would be taking from this incredibly small, but incredibly strong, woman.
"Do not cry, my dear," Madame said to Nikita. "I learned many years ago that Allah has his own way of telling us what is meant to be and that His ways are unfathomable." She was silent for a moment more, before she added brightly, "Besides, if you continue to cry, you will not be able to see the wonderful meal Anna has created!"
Both Nikita and Veireck chuckled. "You're right, as usual, Mother," Veireck said as he rose from the floor. "I was snooping in the kitchen while I waited, and Anna has prepared a meal fit for Allah himself."
He helped Nikita to her feet and then turned gallantly to his mother, saying with a slight bow, "May I take you into dinner, Mother?" As she nodded, he turned to Nikita and said with a smile, "Once I lift Mother, if you would be so kind as to walk in front and open the doors."
"It would be my pleasure. Just tell me which way to go," Nikita replied, giving Veireck a bright smile. And with that, they proceeded into the dining room.
************
Chapter 10
"Birkoff? Walter? Anyone there?"
Nikita's voice sounded tired and strained.
"I'm here."
It was the one voice she wanted most to hear -- the one she wanted to turn to for comfort. But it was the one voice she feared would bring no consolation tonight.
"Michael? What are you doing there?" she asked dully. Then she mumbled to herself, "Why would anyone be there?"
Her emotional exhaustion was palpable.
He had decided that someone... preferably himself... should monitor her tonight. He knew her strength. But he also knew her weakness... her ability to empathize with the innocent. And he knew that she would spend the night dwelling on the pain she was going to inflict on an innocent.
Nikita's apartment
Late that night
"I'm here because I thought you might need me tonight," he said softly. Before she could reply he added, "We are alone... surveillance has been disengaged."
Even without a camera watching her, Michael knew how agitated she was. He could sense her restlessness... her impotent fury. Silently he waited for her to begin.
Nikita covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Michael. How do I do this? How can I rip this family apart?" she cried. Then with her hands knotted in her hair, she stalked the room, pacing from the door to the window, from the window to the sink, from the sink to the bed, from the bed back to the door.
Michael didn't answer. He knew that she would eventually answer her own questions. He also knew from past experience that she had to come to those answers herself... he couldn't give them to her. What she needed tonight was a sounding board. He decided he'd give her whatever she needed, without witnesses. He would be the repository of her agony.
"Did Madeline tell you what happened?" she asked, suddenly quiet.
"Yes."
Nikita grinned at his succinct answer... so typical, but oh, so reassuring.
"That I had a vision? When Madame Veireck touched my face the first time."
"She told me that you had a psychic experience, but not the details."
"You mean you haven't reviewed the tapes yet?" Nikita was surprised. When she'd heard Michael's voice she'd assumed he was going to debrief her. He never omitted reviewing her mission tapes before he met with her.
"No. Once Madeline and Birkoff told me what happened, I decided that I wanted to hear how you felt before I listened to the tapes. Do you mind?"
"Mind? Of course not," she said as she settled onto the sofa.
The apartment she rented near the MDT facility was not as large as the one Section had arranged for her, but, in the time she had lived here, she had managed to make it feel somewhat like home. Since she'd come back into Section, she'd stopped decorating her living quarters like the alleys where she'd grown up. Her style now ran to the sleek elegance of wood and natural fabrics. The living room floor was light-colored hardwood, covered by a luxurious hand-woven rug... the sofa and matching chair were covered in ivory damask. The low coffee table held a variety of small, wooden African animal sculptures and candles. Here and there, around the room, as she had paced, Nikita had dropped her purse, her lab coat, the barrette from her hair.
"Give me a minute to get it straight in my mind," she said, leaning back against the soft pillows of the sofa.
"Take as much time as you need. I'll be here," Michael replied evenly.
After a few minutes, Nikita began. "I knew when Veireck asked me to marry him that no matter how I felt about it, Section would tell me to accept. It was an opportunity too good to miss." She paused a moment, then continued. "Then when I met Madame Veireck... Maman..." She faltered.
Michael could hear her ragged breathing and knew she was near tears again. He could hear her mumbling to herself as she struggled to regain control over her emotions. He waited for her to continue.
"She's an incredible woman, Michael. And so tiny! But she exudes such a presence... even in a crowded room you'd be aware of her. When she touched my face... Michael... it was... amazing." Nikita stood and started pacing again. "You'll never believe what I saw. I'm not even sure I believe it!"
As he listened to her roam about the room, Michael interjected softly, "Tell me."
"I saw..." she began. She shuddered, then closed her eyes and began again, "I saw Veireck and Maman... there was a wall between us. I was trying to get over the wall to reach them... you were there trying to help me. Maman was telling me something but I couldn't hear her. Suddenly the wall began to crumble... it rushed down towards Veireck. As it fell I could finally hear Maman; she was telling me to save myself... and you."
Nikita opened her eyes and looked around the room. "Michael, it was as clear as what I'm seeing now. I was so frightened!"
"What happened next?" Michael's quiet voice whispered in her head.
"I think I almost passed out. When I was aware of things again, Maman sent Josef from the room and she explained what I saw." Nikita drew in a deep breath. She felt the anxiety creep back. As she exhaled slowly, she rotated her neck and shoulders, trying to break the knot of tension. Then she continued. "Maman told me that I wouldn't marry Josef... that in fact I would destroy him. I was so afraid she would tell him and that if she did, I was in deep trouble."
This time Michael didn't comment or prompt when she stopped. He let her set her own pace.
