The smoke swirled out of the end of his Cuban cigar. Floating upward into the air adding to the murky haze that was generated by the glow from his computer monitor. It mixed with the heavy woods and dark colors of an old English style office. Plush carpet, mahogany paneling, leather furniture and the smell of power. So different from the average government facility, but then again he had earned it. Pain, blood and sweat got him here. Tears never entered the picture. Those ducts were dried long ago.

**Ah to joys of illegal contraband**

Grinning he had visions of his last take, the intelligence community had such perks. That is when you were so high up in the chain of command that bargaining wouldn't cost you your own life. Like a moving a pawn on the chessboard a name was dropped. A box of Cuban's would arrive autographed by Castro himself. Checkmate and a location was revealed. A case of brandy that Louis IV had stashed away in some long forgotten cave would be the reward. He was still proud of his accomplishments and his acquisitions. The one he still crowed about was the deal of the century, but then the DiVinci was worth it. So what if it had taken 3 weeks for the UN to overthrow the usurper. In the long run the information needed to justify his actions had been obtained, and he was in possession of a sumptuous masterpiece.

The ends always justify the means was his mantra. When those underneath him didn't understand, he would pull rank with that need to know "bullshit" and his favorite saying. The looks on their faces were priceless, but it worked every time. It grated each of them, they were so used to power and so unaccustomed to mental blindness. They each controlled one of his special armies of choice. He had molded these organizations to fit his purposes as well as the "Good" of mankind. Such a fine line there was from being a tyrant and a savior, that duality is what made the challenge.

His thoughts shifted to his upcoming situation. This one would call for special tact. He might even have to dirty his hands a bit for the sake of national security. He had a dilemma. Who to use? Which outfit for responsibility?

Focusing back on his monitor, he accessed his remote viewing communications program. His plan began to formulate like dominoes falling in line as he silently watched the sequence before him.

_________

"Pull out now!" An agitated voice echoed over the line.

"Almost done, have 15 seconds left. How much time before the hostiles overtake me?" Groaned the partially hidden operative.

"2 minutes. 3 approaching. Guards. All armed. Get the disk and get out of there. You can't be discovered."

After a few hurried keystrokes, she mumbled into her com unit. "Got it! Egressing now. Start retrieval code Alpha."

The operative made her way to the balcony as she straightened her hair. She carefully climbed over the railing to maneuver herself onto the 4 inch wide ledge. She stopped abruptly to remove her 3 inch heals as she worked her way to the window she had left open. **I must remind Madeline of the proper foot attire for these little excursions**

"Nikita hurry, you've got incoming in 15 seconds" a new voice came out of the speaker, he knew it belonged to Section's computer genius.

Distracted by the sound of his command, Nikita slipped and barely caught herself but not before a few pebbles were knocked off tumbling precariously toward the head of one of her hostiles.

The stone barley missed John's head, but made enough of a noisy bouncing off the ground that he whipped his gun out and glance up at the 4th floor. All he saw was the breeze stirring the curtain in one of the open windows. He continued his sweep of the area. A few moments later, he didn't see the elegantly dressed woman in black crepe slipped passed him to rejoin the celebration going on in the Embassy ballroom.

A beautiful and slender hand snatched a full glass of champagne off a passing tray, as she saluted her escort.

"There you are darling, I was afraid I lost you." Charming as always, Clayton Westmoreland led his date onto the dance floor. He was her ticket into the party, she might as well enjoy this portion of the evening even though she was mentally picturing being held in another man's arms. A grin split across her face as she slammed back her drink and proceeded to whirl around the parquet to the strains of a Vienna Waltz within the arms of her new friend

Clayton didn't hear her mutter the all clear, but the Section's operatives did. So did her silent observer.

____________

Perfect. She would be perfect. It was time to rock the boat a little. As he laughed at his pun, he picked up his private C2 secured phone and waited.

"Briefing tomorrow 7am...No at Section One...have the operative 'Nikita' attend." Silence on the other end. "You will see..." Dial tone is all the other party heard after that.

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

Something was different. The guards weren't as jovial as normal. That is as jovial as they could be in a compound 300 feet below ground in the place called Section One. They didn't even say hello. If she hadn't seen the flash of what looked like sympathy in their eyes, she would have thought they didn't even see her.

**Everyone is in their best dressed. ** She noticed as she walked through the halls making her way toward the Comm Center. She stopped abruptly as she took in the scene before her. Birky was in a suit. ** My God a suit? What the hell is going on?**

Afraid to turn around and check out Walter but being unable to resist, she rotated very slowly and had to hide her laugh with a well placed cough. Black beret, Button down shirt and a Neru jacket was all she saw. His silver hair slicked back into a tight ponytail at the base of his neck. He looked right off the cover of GQ. The only thing missing was the sexy look in his eyes, in its place was a pure pain. She knew he considered this the worst kind of torture.

"Big mission today that I don't know about? Or are we holding the Section One's first beauty contest and it's the eveningwear presentation?" She managed to get out through her chuckles.

Her laughter stopped at the look in his eyes. "Be careful Nikita. I suggest you go hide for a few hours, and try not to get noticed. Operations is in a mood again." With that Birkoff swiveled in his chair pretended that his computer was his best friend, well in all actuality it was.

"Oh great, thanks for the update. I wish I could but he called me in for a briefing. He even told me to dress appropriately for once. So here I am." She muttered, as she looked down at her sedate Jones of New York suit of navy silk.

"He called you in? Did I hear you right?" He was dumbfounded. "There is no briefing per my mission calendar."

Confused she looked around. "Must be a mistake then, but I'd better go and check." She looked up towards the Perch and saw 2 faces staring down at her. One she knew one she didn't. Operation nodded his head motioning that they were waiting for her. Completely oblivious to the severity of the situation, she moved toward the stairs.

"Wait.." Birkoff's speech was cut off by the glare he received from Operation. Nikita paused and without turning around spoke "Yes, Birkoff?"

"Uh…be careful"

It wasn't the first time he'd warned her of impending danger, but she had a sinking feeling that she was walking into the Devil's own lair.

____________

Observing the hall below Operations was glad to finally have Nikita arrive. She was on time, but George refused to start until she was here. He hated not knowing what was going on, but he knew enough about his leader that this was what he had planned. He was sure there was something very important going down, but this scenario with Nikita was to make him squirm.

**Quite beautiful. Her pictures do not do her justice. **

"Now I see understand Petrosian saw in her."

Taken aback by his comment, Operations turned his attention to his coffee cup that he held in his hands. "Yes, she is a very capable operative. But she does have a willful streak, we are working on curbing that particular quality. Her compassion is a thorn I'm afraid that will not go away."

"Hmm, oh really that is the reason I need her." George glared into Operations eyes. "Marcus…" a warning tone crept into his voice. "Tread lightly. She is turning out exactly as I planned."

Stunned at that revelation, Marcus continued. "Are you sure that you can't share more information with me? If it is so important, I sure Terry or even Michael could be substituted into your profile."

He was trying to weasel more information out of him. The last time George had called a briefing within the walls of Section One, he had lost 25% of his operatives in the resulting bloodbath. He did not want Nikita on point or even planning that level of engagement.

"I appreciate your concern, but I taught you remember? I know what I'm doing. And in all actuality…'You don't need to know'" A grin was threatening to break out across his face. Marcus looked like he was a time bomb waiting to explode. He just loved that line and the ensuing reaction.

Marcus wisely kept quiet as he motioned for Nikita to join them. He hoped she remembered the organization hierarchy. She was going to get a crash course in power, and she didn't have a clue what she was walking into. But then again….neither did he.

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

Taking a deep calming breath, Nikita prepared herself as she approached the door. Hesitating in her stride as it slid open automatically. With her best Michael face in attendance, she moved forward to greet the two individuals that waited for her arrival. With a cursory glance, she took in the barren room and its empty chairs. Only the three of them. Her stomach dropped a few hundred feet.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Nikita moved forward to greet Operations and his mystery guest. Even though she was shaking underneath her calm surface, she was damned if she would let anyone see it.

"Yes…Nikita in your training you were instructed in the hierarchy of Section One were you not?"

"Yes Sir. The stages, categories, creed and objectives are part of all recruits training regimen. There is the training stage, Cold Op, Psych Op, Special Op and supporting departments. The head of this organization has the role of master strategist for planning and executing…" Operations stopped her mid sentence with a curt wave of his hand.

"You are aware that Section One itself is not an autonomous organization. We must operate within confines of certain rules. These rules are governed by an entity entitled the Agency. All of our directives come from that organization." He was pacing back and forth subconsciously revealing his level of unease to the others.

Stealing a glance at the other attendee, she could barely hide her shock at his amused expression. A grin threatened to lift the corners of his mouth. He was taking enjoyment out of seeing Operations state of mind. If she weren't so concerned about this meeting and what it entailed, she would be having the same reaction. His silver eyes slid over to examine her and caught her sizing him up.

Blushing, the only reaction Nikita hadn't learned to control yet, she shifted her gaze and her focus back to the infamous head of Section One. But his image still sat in her mind. Short salt and pepper hair, trimmed mustache, sly silver eyes and from what she could tell under his Armani suit, a rather firm and muscular body. He was around 6ft, and if that didn't demand attention his authoritative aura did. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Running a hand through his hair, Operations paused. "I have a mentor as do you, and I am responsible to him for my actions. I would like you to meet George. He is the acting Agency Head. He has requested your assistance for an upcoming mission. I expect your full cooperation and a full briefing on your activities."

Before Nikita could speak, George cut her off. "I'm sure you have questions Nikita, and I will answer them if I can. Right now however, it is imperative I proceed with briefing you on your role. We have to meet up with the rest of your team at 1600hrs and we have a lot of ground to cover before then. As for roles and responsibilities, you only report to myself directly, all information regarding this mission is at clearance level Alpha Tango Epsilon. Your security clearance and ranking have already been changed. No information will be parted to any individual that I do not approve. Understood?"

Nikita nodded her head in agreement. If he had asked her to speak, she didn't know if she could even find her voice. She was out of her element. George was an unknown. If her intuitions were correct, Operations was leery of him and she should be as well. Those with that much power always have a hidden agenda. That much she had learned.

George moved the group over to the conference table. With a few keystrokes he punched up the reconnaissance information and was about to activate the Vid screen. Hesitating, he turns to catch Operations attention.

"Introductions have been done. I will see you and Madeline when I'm through. Please have Madeline ready Nikita's wardrobe. I have left instructions on what is necessary."

"I'm sure I could be of some assistance…"

"That is not needed, and you are not cleared for this level of operation. Dismissed Marcus."

If Operations was a cat, his back would be arched and hissing would be heard. He was summarily dismissed and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Turning red in the face, he bit his tongue to hold back the insubordinate retort that threatened to come out.

Gazing into blue eyes, Operations sent a silent warning. **Be Wary. It's out of my hands now. ** Nikita got the message loud and clear. Trusting anyone completely wasn't in any mission profile. She watched her leader stalk out of the room leaving her with an unknown. She had the feeling she just lost her last lifeline to the world she once knew.

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

Operations reigned in his anger and did his best to act nonchalant as he stormed down the stairs to the staging area below. He had to stop himself twice to calm down. At the look on his face, operatives were finding excuses left and right to stay out of his way. Raging past an unsuspecting recruit, he berated her performance and almost ordered her cancellation before he caught himself.

He needed to get into control. Walking with a purpose toward the Comm Station, Operations caught Birkoff unawares.

"I want to know what is going on inside that room right now! Put the feed into Madeline's office." His gaze drifted to his own occupied office. George caught his gaze, depressed a key in response and the windows were plunged into darkness.

"Uh Sir, I can't pull the data from your office. It's been locked out and my codes aren't cleared for this level." Frowning in consternation, Operation types in his activation code and verifies his identity with voice recognition. No response is given until a load warning came over the intercom stating that the level of access was even too high for him. With that little announcement, he could just see the smirk on George's face as his own face turned a deeper shade of red.

Well, let him have Nikita, she would definitely be a challenge for a while. He only hoped that she stayed in line and completed this mission unharmed. She was getting to be one of his best operatives and it would be a shame to lose her. She was on loan for however long it took, but the estimation George gave him didn't sit well. 3 days was a long time in George's care. He still had the scars to prove it. But Nikita was to be his for 2 months. God help her if he even existed, she was going to need that type of divine intervention.

Standing around wasn't helping his outlook on the situation. Work in Section One had ground to a halt. Operatives were trying to act busy while ascertaining the situation that was presented. To be in the dark with the rest of them, was unthinkable. It was bad enough when he knew what was going on. But with their leader is the same situation as they were, what could be the ramifications? Most knew of George, only a few knew what he was capable of. Morale just dropped 30 points and Madeline was going to be challenged to set this straight.

He needed to speak with her. She would be able to shed so insight into this situation. Quickly he took off to track her down. He knew she would be in her office preparing Nikita's wardrobe. Even she wouldn't go against George.

The ever-present eyes of Section One followed his movements. Walter just whistled through his teeth with concern, this was going to be one heck of a ride and he needed Michael here to help him. He might be able to dig something up. He was sure his Sugar would need it. He remembered well the last time George had come for a visit. He had been sent in to retrieve the chosen operative. Through extensive reconditioning, Mark had only partially emerged from the horrors he experienced. In the end, he couldn't handle it and took his own life.

If Walter had anything to say about it, Nikita would not go that route.

__________

Exhausted from his lengthy reconnaissance mission, Michael disembarked from the van to run right into Walter. Chuckling at the picture he presented, he could help the comment that came out of his mouth.

"Nice Look"

"Stuff it Michael. We have a situation."

Michael sighs and looks for confirmation. The only two people that Walter cared enough about to approach him were Nikita and Birkoff. Birkoff rarely got in trouble unless he raided Madeline's sugar stash. And he was still licking his wounds from last time. It must be Nikita. Why was it always Nikita?

"What happened?"

"George is in here. He requested to see her. He proceeded to kick Operations out of his own office before he talked with her. You know what happened last time."

"Oh God," was the groan. "I'll see what I can come up with." Not good…not good at all

"Good. My own contacts are due to report to me shortly. I'll let you know." Walter started to walk away but stopped. Quietly he muttered, "We can't let him take her Michael it wouldn't be the same." When Michael looked up all he saw was the distant sway of a ponytail.

Michael now alone in the corridor leaned his head against the wall. It would take a miracle to help Nikita. Why use her and not me? The fear in his gut told him he had to do something or he might lose her again. **Life without Nikita ** Contemplating that consequence spurned him into action. He wouldn't go through that. He needed her, even if he hadn't told her yet.

________

An hour later Michael's outlook proceeded to get worst. The rumors involved the Synod. Tough crowd, they had never been broken. Many had tried and failed. He himself had been captured and tortured for 2 weeks before he escaped. Could Nikita handle that? He hoped his instincts were wrong, but then again that had only happened once before and Simone died because of it.

Heading back to his office from the showers. Michael noticed that all action had stopped. The door to Opeations' Perch slid open. Out came a smiling George and an incredibly pale Nikita. She was a shell of her normal self. From across the room, he noticed the change in her. If he hadn't known better, he would have said she was in shock. Then again with George at the helm, she could be thrown into shock just by the profile of the mission.

Nikita tapped down the urge to drag Michael into his office, shut out the world and asked for his advice. George had made that opportunity impossible. She was truly alone. All was masked, even Michael couldn't read her face. If her control slipped, the effect would be devastating and she actually believed that George would follow through on the consequences.

Hoping for that very same conversation Michael's eyes silently asked, no response was given. Verbal it must be.

"Can I see you for a moment?" Nikita shifts her gaze to George for guidance.

He shoots her a look and turns to Michael. Amusement flickered in his expression **the bond between them is very strong. My intel was correct, interesting**

"Nikita is directly under my command as of now Michael. She has a mission to plan. Whatever it is will have to wait." George handed a list of weaponry needed for Nikita over to Walter.

"Please have this assembled immediately. We depart in 4 hours." As he turns to search out the commander and his sidekick, he calls over his shoulder. "Meet me at the Heli-pad at 1300 hrs Nikita. Be prepared and don't lose focus"

"Yes sir" She responded woodenly. How could she, she wondered. He had made sure that she would follow his commands. Her hands were tied. The Devil had whispered and stolen her soul.

George sauntered away leaving the uneasy group behind as he searched out the location of Madeline and Operations. He was actually going to enjoy this. The entertainment factor alone was worth the effort.

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

Nikita was just finishing a grueling workout in effort to calm her nerves. She needed an outlet for the emotions running rampant through her. Each kick, thrust and punch combination eased her fears and lulled her into thinking she was in control. Such a illusion that concept of control. Try repressed anxiety. Ever since the unorthodox briefing with George, she had hidden her turmoil. She had barely escaped the questions, said and unsaid. They were all curious. Few were even concerned, but all knew to be wary. The Agency's directives weren't something you questioned. George wasn't someone you disappointed. You just did what was required and hoped that you didn't draw too much attention. Anonymity was the name of the game, and unfortunately she was far anonymous.

Roundhouse...Knife block... jab..jab...right hook...

She moved in tune with her internal rhythm unknowing that she had drawn an audience. Motionless Michael watched her lithe form executing her routine. She was working out with such veracity. Bottled dread and repressed trepidation. He moved forward and caught her gaze. Amazingly she looked away and doubled her efforts. This was not something she could deal with at the moment. She was stealing herself from all contact. The sight of him alone could ruin all the work she had done to her emotional psyche in the last 45 minutes. Detachment was the name of the game, death was the punishment of the looser.

Never one to back down, Michael finish strapping on his sparring pads. On her next pass, he positioned himself to be her target. He stilled as the blows fell against him. Stunned at her intensity and the strength of the hits, he queried her. No words were spoken. None were needed. He knew she couldn't share her knowledge or the musings that race through her mind. He had been around long enough to understand the ways of the Section. This was a road she must journey on her own. He knew the loneliness that act could cause. But he would be there for her as she had for him in the past. Just her presence has been a calming influence to him, maybe his silent help could quiet her demons that lay beneath her surface. He waited. It was her decision.

** Damn, he's not going to leave. Focus on the work out Nikita. Focus** Her armor would crack at his slightest question. She couldn't afford that deterioration. Section One couldn't afford that luxury. A stray lock of blonde hair was pushed aside with an errant hand. The action alone spoke words. In the past you would be able to see her thoughts mirrored by the expressions in her eyes. It was like having a book on tape. Descriptive and always accurate. Now she was a blank slate. Except for an occasional subconscious movement betraying her true emotional state, she had perfected the nonchalant look. In a perverted way Michael was proud. She not only had learned the necessity of checking her emotions, but also understood that it could provide you with an upper hand in a situation where hope had fled.

Determination filtered across Nikita's face. Maybe this is what she needed. A fresh vision of her true purpose, a memory she could hang onto during the upcoming times of pain. ** This is what you're fighting for. You made a deal with the devil. It's time to ante up, the cards are almost dealt.**

In a quick of an eye, Nikita launched herself at Michael not pulling her punches. He parried and countered. Soon both were lost in each other's movements. They become one. One in pain. One in concern. One in fear. They surrendered themselves subconsciously to the silent dialogue that always occurred when the other was near. Words were not needed. In their case, words only got in the way. This unique bond was the only truth they had. It could not be faked or manipulated. Over the past few months they were learning to listen to this connection. It was the only strand of honesty that they could find in the Section. This connection is what made this life worth living for both of them.

As the sweat dripped down into her eyes, she glanced at the clock. Distracted by her loss of focus, Michael made a mistake that gave Nikita the upper hand. This rare trait let him be so in tune with Nikita, he could sense her actions prior to her actually doing them. At times like this though, it ended him laying flat on the mat. Before he could intake his breath, Nikita pinned him down with her body.

In...Out...In...Out

Their chests rose and fell as their breath slowed. Nikita's mask slipped as she felt Michael's reaction to her closeness. Possessed by her heart and the knowledge that she had temporarily disabled the surveillance in this room, she lowered her head slowly toward his. It didn't have to go far before it encountered Michael's. His lips took control as he locked his hand into her hair lying against her neck. Absorbed in the moment, he leisurely assaulted her mouth as her body slipped over his enticing him. **Whoever invented Lycra should be praised** was the only thought in Michael's head as he rolled Nikita underneath him. He needed to feel her softness with a singular desperation.

Nikita's lips trailed down Michael's neck as she took little love bites. Tasting his flesh and immersing herself in a mixture of leather, sweat and musk. Heaven on earth, or at least as close as she could come to it in Section One. Bottled, the scent would surely drive all women crazy. Put his green eyes on the label, and all the men had better watch out. She was silently glad he was all hers, if even for a few stolen moments. As her hands pulled his tank top from his waist band, she heard someone clearing their throat. Standing in the corner with cheeks the color of Red Dye #2 stood Birkoff.

Still muddled with desire, one of the two muttered "Get lost Birkoff". Who said it didn't matter. Both were thinking it.

"I'd love to leave you to your...uhmm work out but George asked me to find you. Nikita, you're due in Madeline's office within the hour." He grimaced at his next words knowing one of them would get physically hurt as they rushed to stand up. "He mentioned that you were slightly distracted from your mission and asked me to track you down." ** Slightly distracted my @$$. **

Michael was as quick as a cat as he readied himself to stand. Try to will his erection to a less noticeable size. Knowing that Birkoff deserved just one more surprise, Nikita pulled Michael down onto of her and gave him one last searing kiss as the computer genius watched. It almost backfired, she always lost herself in his kiss. Her senses returned and she chuckled as she slipped out from underneath a dazed Michael. It then turned into an all out laugh as she got a look at Birkoff's face.

"Say hi to Gail for me tonight, okay." She sauntered out the door and headed for the showers leaving two very uncomfortable men in her wake. Both were visioning the cold showers that would be needed to cool down their libidos.

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

Whosh…whosh…whosh…whosh

The sound of the helicopter blades lulled Nikita into a trance like state. Each cycle mimicking the singular thought in her mind. **What did I get into? ** Leaning her head back against the cold steel of the hovering coffin, she let a pent-up sigh be released. She had never dealt well with this sort of travel. If something went wrong in planes, it was a possibility that they could glide to safety. If one of these babies went down, they were done for.

** I'm an idiot. That's what I am** Laughter almost escaped out of her carefully managed façade of calm. Her I am walking into a hornet's nest with people I don't know watching my back, and I'm worried about the safety precautions of the Huey. Maybe they have one of those safety brochures for Agency passengers. She could just picture it.

1. Don't panic. You're already dead anyway, so how much can this hurt?
2. Floatation devices aren't necessary just use a dead operative.
3. A crash will be viewed as your inevitable death. Think of it as premature cancellation with style.
4. All electronic devices are waterproof. You are not. They are not expendable, you are. Please hold your 50 lbs commination station above your head while treading water. This way we can pick up the tracking signal while you drowned.
5. In case of an un-expected landing in hostile territory, please swallow your friendly cyanide capsule after you have destroyed all critical systems. Do not take until all links to the Agency have been eliminated. Then you can take your own life. Aren't you lucky? Volunteered cancellation. It's a new program and you are the first to try it.

Sensing her distraction from her primary focus, George abruptly broke into her revere.

"Who is the target for Phase 1?"

Trained to respond without hesitation, Nikita didn't falter. "Robert Kelly"

"What is the tactical?"

Again her response was second nature. "Extract, obtain information and dispose without a trace."

"Collateral?"

"None. All are expendable. Even you." She took a private pleasure in that statement. He was going in, and had given her the directive. This was larger then anything her mind had every imagined. It was incomprehensible the magnitude of the tasks before her. Even the Head of the most notorious organization in the world was expendable.

"Who is your team?"

Her head popped up. **Team?** He hadn't given her any information about the others she was to meet. Drawing a blank look, she took a guess. "The best of the best."

Impressed with her spur of the moment answer, he handed her another PDA with the vital statistics and specialty information for her new colleagues. "Taylor, Barclay, Hernandez, Austin and an old friend of yours O'Malley."

Her head whipped up at the sound of his name. It couldn't be. Flipping through the PDA in disbelief, she reviewed the information set before her. Her eyes glazed over as she began to understand.

"How do we know we can trust them?"

"How do they know they can trust you? They will cooperate, just as you will. They have just as much invested as you do" The helicopter began to descend soundlessly into the desolate pasture. Nikita held her breath as she prepared for disembarkment. Landing was always the roughest part of the trip for her, but those fears were waylaid by the sheer terror that George had just imparted into her.

Stepping onto solid ground she readied herself and mentally restrained the urge to draw her gun as her teammates emerged. It took all her fortitude to refrain from putting a bullet into each of their heads. They were each responsible for the deaths of many friends and innocents. It would be miraculous if they could even speak civilly, let alone work as a well-oiled team.

For the first time in known history, at least known to George, a representative from each one of his covert "armies" would work side by side toward a common goal. Together they would tackle the toughest mission he had yet to face. His fears were not founded in their lack of skill. They came from the reality that it would be downright miraculous if they didn't kill each other before the sequence even started.

His eyes moved from face to face. He caught each of their gazes and silently reminded them of the individual consequences if they did not succeed. Soon all operatives were focused on him. He had chosen well. They were the best and brightest from Section, Red Cell, Legion, Radius and First Order. A volatile mix, but one that was the only recipe for success in this scenario.

Tension filled the air. You could hear a pin drop as George led his group of "Merry Men" toward the room where he would change all of their lives. What they knew as reality was just about to change. He hoped they could handle it. If they didn't then all would be lost.

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

Darkness slowly enveloped Nikita as she took the blows in rapid succession. Pain coursed through every inch of her body. She mentally tried to separate herself from the agony she was experiencing.

"Where is he? Where did you take him you B*!@#?"

Nikita bit the inside of her lip so hard that blood was drawn. Even in her ruffed up state, she portrayed the state of indifference. As the torture continued she resigned herself to the inevitable. The only response she gave as her ribs were fractured was the minute shaking of her body as a fist imbedding itself into her.

She had anticipated this, even planned this encounter. George was nothing if not thorough. He knew his opposition well. Amanda looked on with increasing agitation. Who would have known that this one could endure so much? Over the past 5 hours there wasn't a patch of flesh or bone that wasn't touched in some way. Yet she sat there with her infuriatingly calm demeanor. This fair-haired whipping post took all she could dish out without the slightest utterance.

"Silence won't save you. Nothing will."

In her mind, Nikita reviewed the mission parameters. She mentally walked through the sequence. The alarm system disengaged. The backup power generator disabled. They should be retrieving the information from her unsuspecting tormentors right now. A sudden trembling of the floor confirmed her assessment. Barclay and Taylor were right on time.

She could say one thing about George's band of "Merry Men". They were very skillful. But then she was sure their training must have been just as intensive as hers. She had started to notice the similarities between the operatives. That really didn't surprise her. The all came from a very similar mold. A mold that George had forged long ago. Still it took every ounce of willpower for her not to dispatch those on her team. It was an even greater challenge not to do away with their pompous leader.

When the urge would threaten to overtake her, she would focus on the consequences. She had seen the means with her own eyes. During her initial briefing, George had made sure she knew what was at stake. Visions of the hidden explosion devices within Section One and without would emerge. George had been very complete in his research about her. He knew what buttons to push. The bomb hidden in Birkoff's chair. The incendiary device located in Michael's sister's home. The gun that was always trained on Operations' secret, Stephen. He was a secret no more. He had even shown her footage of the night she had shared with Michael on her boat.

She would not go on remembering, her resolve in place once more. There was more of course. Should she falter, George would put into action a plan that would rip out the hearts of the unsuspecting operatives of Section One. She would be the reason for the deaths of her colleagues' innocents. Should she fail in her mission all together, Section One would be destroyed in its entirety. They were just a pawn in the hands of the master. He could regroup and launch another division within a few hours. The life she once knew, she once ran from, she once resented could be eradicated by her actions. She mentally made a note to thank Operations for being the honest and ethical leader he was however secretive. George was a pariah and she couldn't wait to go back to her sheltered existence.

The butt of a gun dashed across the back of her head threw Nikita headlong into blackness. Angela had dispatched her so that she could investigate the reason behind the sinking feeling in her stomach. Turning towards the door, her body shuttered as 2 well placed bullets ripped through her heart. She collapsed on the floor in immediate death. The surprise on her face frozen for all eternity.

War seasoned hands collected an unconscious Nikita. Throwing her over his shoulder, O'Malley proceeded towards the exit point. Every thread of his being wanted to leave her in this hellhole. But the power and sadistic nature of their leader had effected him also. Emerging from the underground compound, they made it with 2 minutes to spare.

As they safely pealed away within the confines of the jeep, Nikita roused to the sight of flames leaping into the air. Glancing over into her rescuer's face, she nodded a barely registered thanks. O'Malley did see it however and gave his long time adversary her due. They were part of a team for now. Once this was done, enemies they would become again.

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

Section One had resumed normal functions after Nikita and George had departed. There were always missions to plan and thugs to interrogate. Still in the back of the minds of 5 individuals, fear and consternation still reigned. Each had their own reasons. Some were concerned for her safety. Some with her mental and physically ability to complete these unknown tasks. One had concern for her soul which he had a vested interest. All knew if she failed in anyway, the end result - hidden as it was- would be devastating.

Walking by the weapons station, Michael motioned for Walter to join him in the firing range. 10 minutes later with heads bowed in secrecy, he shared the latest information he had gleaned. They were both concerned for Nikita, but they also realized the penalty of knowing too much. Each understood the level of mission Nikita was on. Neither had dealt with directives on that level, that quality was unexplored. Just the mention of her name or speculation could be grounds for immediate cancellation, but they had to take the chance. This waiting was eating away at their nerves.

"It's been two weeks."

"I know. The news isn't good." Michael hesitated and looked around for any prying eyes. None were found so he proceeded. "All of our major opponents are suspiciously inactive. The only noise is from smaller and inexperienced organizations. It's too quiet."

Walter shook his head in agreement. "Something is going down. Nothing has been confirmed. But when it's this silent, bodies start dropping."

Michael's fears were echoed in Walter's words. "There's one more thing. A blonde hostage was tortured within an inch of her life before a certain compound exploded in flames. It was said that she had the face of an angel and the strength of the devil. They didn't get anything out of her."

Pain crept across both of their faces. "What about bodies? Any confirmation?"

"Not yet. My contact is checking into it and I should hear more in his next report."

Focusing on something that didn't involve the dread that threatened to envelop his soul, Michael silently drew his gun and fired at the gel-encased target. It was the newest technology. Bullets impacted the surface, showing dispersion. However there was no impact damage to the target or the bullet. Walter was testing this material for field use. If this technology went past this phase, he could get rid of their bulky Kevlar vests.

It was miniscule diversion for both of them, but they were fighting the feeling of being useless. Distracted for a few minutes from the constant worry was beneficial. They needed to remain focused just incase Nikita was in need of them.

An out of breath Birkoff found them moments later. Ignoring the looks of ice regarding being interrupted, he launched into an explanation.

"She's back."

"Where?" was asked simultaneously.

Birkhoff hesitated until he was out of the way of the door. "Medlab. She's in bad shape."

The three rushed to the infirmary observation deck. There she was beaten almost beyond recognition. They had put Nikita under sedation so they could fully ascertain the extent of her injuries. The door wooshed open as two new individuals emerged. George was looking worse for wear and Operations a bit ruffled. They had already gotten an update on Nikita's condition.

Dismissing the other concerned observers despite the daggered looks, Operations turned to his superior. "Are you in need of another operative? I will see that Nikita is punished for her actions after she has healed considerably." He had assumed that she ignored the directive and ended up in this predicament.

A chuckle was heard as George sized up his subordinate. "That is not necessary. Nikita followed the plan to the letter. I need her back in workable form within a week. This seemed to be the best place for her to recover from her…hmm…incident."

Pausing for the reaction that he was sure Marcus would show, he waited. None came. ** Not bad, Marcus **

"Please notify me when she has regained consciousness. I need to debrief her privately. You can reach me in your office." was George's parting shot.

No words came out as the electronic door closed. All alone with his thoughts, he just shook his head in understanding. His gaze traveled to Nikita who lay motionless on the gurney. He caught the eye of another watcher and turned away. "I'm sorry Nikita."

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

The incessant beeping of her heart monitor was the first thing that Nikita registered. However in her drowsy state, it was her annoying alarm clock. Throwing her arm over to where she could hit the snooze button, a sharp and blinding pain bolted her into awareness.

Reality came rushing for with the force of a tidal wave. Slowly she opened her eyes. The damn white room. Her heart always stopped for a moment when waking up in this place.

**How did I get here? ** The last Nikita could remember, she and O'Malley had been fleeing a blinding explosion in Spain. She remembered the heat, and looking toward her reluctant colleague with thanks in her eyes. Agony then took over her exhausted body as darkness gathered in the wings.

**There has to be more. Why am I back here? ** Searching her fuzzy memories she saw a bitter draught to drink. It had made her stomach clench immediately and she lost its contents through an open car door.

** Arms. There were arms around me. She felt safe, but wary at the same time. Who? ** Sandy blonde hair and a big chest. ** O'Malley…my God it was O'Malley **

What was he doing coddling her like a child? Her arch rival and bitter enemy showed tenderness towards her? That was a sour pill to swallow. She would expect to be helped by a team member, but even with their tense truce she could not fathom such actions from him. ** Hallucinations, I must have been hallucinating. ** She could chalk this one up to the effects of her short but tumultuous torture session at the hands of a very thorough adversary.

Looking around once more, paranoia crept in. Was this indeed Section? Or did he take her to one of his Red Cell facilities. With George's involvement, she could be sure the Medlab equipment would be similar. Paling she comprehended the implications of what she had learned in the last few weeks. Her world of limited selfishness was blown wide apart. Nothing was as it seems anymore. It was all a carefully orchestrated charade. Not only were the Section operatives pieces to be manipulated, but the organization itself was as fleeting as a tumbleweed in a desert storm. Once it served it's purpose, it would blow away with the wind. A trace would no longer be found of this life they all led.

All doubts of where she really was vanished at the appearance of her next visitor. Even though her throat was parched and it hurt to talk, she managed to squeak out a greeting.

"Madeline"

"Shh, Nikita do not try to talk." She walked forward with a cup of ice chips in her hand. Gently lifting her head, Madeline fed piece after piece into Nikita's mouth. Slowly the cottonmouth feeling dissipated.

"Water"

"Not right now. We don't know for certain the extent of your internal injuries. Ice chips will have to do" Madeline did have compassion. She herself had been a Cold Op and had spent many hours in this very room. She slipped into the role of caring mother and confidant. It was her job, but it was something that came naturally when she dealt with Nikita.

She was here for another purpose though. She wanted to find out what was really going on. She doubted she would get the information she desired, but she was bound by curiosity and duty to try.

"We were all very worried about you."

"For my safety, or…." Nikita stopped as her body was racked with fits of coughing. Madeline helped her to relax and assisted her with more of the ice chips.

"Or?"

"Or that I wouldn't do the job?" Even in her disheveled appearance, her aqua eyes pierced the brown ones staring on.

Hesitating for a moment, Madeline responded with candor. "Both"

Taking a deep painful breath, Nikita tried not to find humor in this conversation. "Honest as always. Aren't you?"

Brushing away a strand of pale silk, Madeline changed the subject. "You've had a steady stream of visitors. Dr. Dixson had to actually enforce the visitation hours. But as usual, they weren't followed." She glanced over to the observation window.

Following her gaze, Nikita took in the sight of a haggard Michael thinking with his eyes closed in the corner. Tenderness overcame her. ** He sleeps. ** Knowing his presence however could be fodder for a future fire, Nikita shock herself from her longing.

"He shouldn't be here."

Madeline shrugged, "He would not leave. He was a concerned as the rest of us." Pausing for effect and bracing herself for the next subject, she walked into Nikita's line of vision.

"How are you feeling? You took quite a beating."

Smiling at her attempt and knowing what she was about, Nikita answered her. "I will recover. I've had better and I've had worse. It was nothing more than I expected."

"Really, we thought this might be the punishment for not following the sequence properly."

Even though she was enjoying this banter and the position it put her in, Nikita knew it had to stop. Gathering her strength for a quelling look, she proceeded. "Madeline, I believe the real question you are asking is did I follow the mission profile and what did that mission profile entail. I can not answer your question."

"Can not or will not?"

"You would justifiably cancel any individual that jeopardized a critical mission. Do not ask me to jeopardize mine for the sake of your curiosity. If you want to know, you know who to ask."

If it was a year ago, Madeline was positive that Nikita would have given away the answers to her questions by actions or words. It struck Madeline suddenly how much Nikita had matured. With a slight grin, she acknowledged the winner of their duel.

A deep male voice drew both of the ladies attention. "Madeline you did ask me and my answer is still the same. You do not need to know."

Understanding his position but not agreeing to it, Madeline touched Nikita's arm in goodbye. "But George you would expect nothing less from me then to try. That's what you pay me to do." With that parting shot, the room was abandoned to George and his broken pawn.

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

"I see you're finally awake. How are you feeling?" An honest question but asked for different reasons. There was always duality in everything George said and did.

"I'll be fine." She hesitated while she tried to sit up in bed. It took every effort not to release the groan that threatened to spill at her actions. "Phase 1 was successful then? We have the necessary information?" She had not been informed of the results. She secretly hoped that the suffering she had experienced hadn't been for naught.

"Yes, Mr. Kelly was very helpful if not eager to share his information. He sent his regards to you right before he was dispatched. Slightly bitter I would say."

Nikita rolled her eyes in response. The only regards Robert Kelly would send to her were to wish her a speedy journey into hell. She had succeeded in undermining his defenses, lead him to his ultimate capture and then purposely fall into the hands of Kelly's associates for a strategic diversion.

Robert Kelly had one weakness. No not the damsel in distress. No not a leggy blonde. He was drawn to dominate women. Who would have guessed that this man of power would be a lion on the playing field and a lamb in the bedroom. Nikita would never be able to forget the look of terror and lust on his face when he saw her in the dominatrix costume. But then in that getup, the male majority of her team would have willingly been her slave as well.

"By and by you did well, but you must be stronger in the future. Your loss of consciousness was unexpected. It could have endangered the mission if it were not for Mr. O'Malley." Ever the manipulator, George watches her reaction.

Even though she knew he is looking for her temper to flare, she can't keep the sarcastic tone out of her retort. "The next time I encounter 6 hours of excruciating pain, I'll remember to bring my smelling salts." After the words were out, her face fell. She doubted that George was accustomed to those underneath him questioning his commands. She was pretty sure of the fact that those who had in the past only made that mistake once. "I… I am sorry about that. I was out of line. "

Surprisingly George didn't reprimand her. It was just the opposite. He even seemed to find it amusing. "You definitely aren't your run of the mill Section operative. I admire your style Nikita." He let his praise sink in. Now it was time for the hook to be set. "But your style could be the downfall of the very world you live in. I repeat do not fail. If you do, I will personally see that you are held responsible for the demise of this organization."

Nikita should have known. George always got what he wanted. Sometimes she decided she should just cut out her tongue and save them the hassle. "May I ask a question?"

"You may, but getting an answer is questionable."

** Just like Madeline. ** Here was her chance. "Why me?"

"What do you think my reasons were?"

"Well I'm a good operative. I can passably lure an unsuspecting target with charm, tact and if nothing else by force."

"Those are on the forefront, but there was another quality that you hold in abundance. That was the one I found use for." He turns towards and heads for the door.

"But…"

"If you don't know, then you will soon. Be ready for Phase II in one week Nikita. I will have transportation arranged for you. I suggest you search for the proper wardrobe that will accentuate your assets but not show the bruises. You know how to get a hold of me. Use the priority code I have specified. I will be sending intel for you to review prior to your departure. Take the proper security precautions necessary to maintain mission integrity." Remotely activating the surveillance equipment once again, George left without further adieu.

Lost in her own thoughts and feeling the leftover effects of the pain medication, Nikita slipped into sleep.

Neither George nor Nikita realized their conversation had been overheard. Slipping quietly from his chair in the observation deck, Michael headed to his office to research a Robert Kelly and an operative named O'Malley. He was almost dreading what he would find. For if any information came to light, he would have a better understanding of what Nikita was involved in. He was beginning to wonder if not knowing would be preferable.

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

Walking with a slight limp, Nikita headed out of Medlab. It had taken all of her strength to muscle past the orderlies in her way. Even in her condition, Nikita's Section training ruled supreme. Clay now had a broken wrist, Andrea had a bruise to match her blue eyes and Dr. Dixson was informed in very graphic terms what would happen to him if he interfered. Reluctantly he had let her go. An injured Section operative was not necessarily an easy Section operative. He had learned that the hard way from Michael. Nikita's leaving was of course against his recommendation, but then in this circumstance if he went against Nikita he was going against George. It was a tough choice that decision. Nikita's life compared to a mission of such importance that no other living soul within theses walls were privy to the details.

She really was a sight. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders. It hurt too much to put it up. The tale-tell bruises were starting to form. She had encased herself in a pair of bulky black sweats to discreetly cover the damage. There she went violating Section standards again. She however opted for comfort over convention. She needed this time to prepare for what was ahead, and she couldn't do that in heels and short skirts.

Leaning against the wall to steady herself, she observed the staging area before her. Activity went on as usual. The moment George had left their portion of the world, the walls seemed to have buckled with a sigh of relief. Operatives were coming and going. Walter was flirting with the female gender. Birkoff was doing what he always did, making the Section computers sing it's special song. One's absence she did notice. Glancing towards his office, she saw him through his blinds hunched over his computer concentration on what was most likely an upcoming mission.

** Good he's occupied ** Pushing away she started her entrance. Like a ripple in a lake, her entrance was slowly registered with each step she took. Some stopped and looked her over head to toe trying not to notice her grimace with each step. Some new recruits wondered at the reason behind her condition. Others had to check themselves from racing and assisting her across the floor. This was her fight and they knew it. She must go along its path alone.

Approaching an unsuspecting Birkoff, she casually fell into the nearest chair. Her intake of breath startled her intended conversation partner.

"Look what the cat drug in."

"Very funny but prophetic. That's how I feel. What have you got for me?"

Birkoff held back and expressed his concern with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be in Medlab still? Rest is what you need. I don't know what is going on but you look like hell."

Understanding his feelings but knowing her course, she disagreed. "You know that no Medlab can keep me down." She chuckled and hid her pain with a soft cough. "I'd love to just sleep the day away with the pain medication as my sandman, but that's not in the cards. I've got to see this through."

"What…no I won't even ask…I am not sure I want to know…"

"Trust me you don't"

Looking at her carefully through the glasses perched on his nose, his eyes roamed over her lithe form trapped in cotton. "Just be careful. And don't give me the I am crap, if you were you wouldn't look like death warmed over."

Tentatively scooting her chair next to his, her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "Thanks for worrying, but I'm a big girl little bro. I'll make out just fine in the end."

"Yeah, well tell that to your two protectors. As soon as you left, they hit the dirt looking for your trail." He snorted. He knew he had done the same thing, but Michael and Walter had outside contacts all he had was a computer.

Shocked by his secret but half expecting their actions, her icy blue eyes locked onto his. "Under no circumstances will you let them find anything. Is that understood? I can't be worried about you three and see this mission to completion at the same time. Got it?"

Held to his chair by her penetrating stare. ** Gulp ** Something was different with her. She had seriousness about her that he hadn't seen before. Sure she had the lighthearted Nikita comments, but underneath they was no joy. She responded with her flippant mouth out of instinct, not out of pure humor. He hoped with all hope that when this mess was over she would return to the Nikita they all knew and loved.

"Yeah, I got it. Don't like it, but I got it. Wanna see your communication setup, Madame?" He received a smack on the back of his head for his comment. Her a Madame?

"You don't have to like it. Just do it. And you call me that again and I'll Superglue your mouse button down." She tried to fill the comment with the humor that she knew he expected but fell short. "Take me to my kingdom oh wise sage."

Away they went in search of her secure communication facility, the gimping Section princess and her jester crutch.

__________________

Looking at the cup of tea in her hand, Madeline absently ran her finger out the edge of the saucer. She was waiting for him. When he finally showed, she gave him one of her patented smiles. But for once there was pleasure behind it not calculation, she enjoyed the report they shared. She should, it took them many years to perfect their tenuous relationship.

Taking his place across from her, he lit one of his clove cigarettes.

"What did you come up with?"

"Nothing. We won't get any information out of her." Madeline sipped her green tea slowly.

"Have you tried your usual tactics?"

"You should know better than that. It would not work if I had tried. We are not dealing with an average situation. We are dealing with George and a grown up Nikita. She is in protection mode. It will be impossible to break through in the timeframe we have. Remember who trained her." She reminded him of a situation that he lived with everyday. She grated on his nerves every now and then, but she was becoming one of his operatives of choice. She had style and a flare that translated well in their environment.

"I know. It's just…" Frustration and fear crept into his voice. Helplessness was something he didn't handle well.

"You don't like losing control."

"She has all of our lives in her hands. She could crush us with loss of concentration. I don't trust her with this level of situation. I don't even trust myself when it comes to George."

"Well we have no choice. He setup this scenario well. Our hands are tied. Even you and I can't over ride her security clearance and communications right now. I hate to say it, but we have to let her do her job."

Grunting, Operations focused back on the auxiliary open missions. He was more concerned with the one that they were just discussing, but he at least with the others he regained the control he had recently lost.

____________

The days passed by quickly for Nikita. She wore herself out with a combination of physical therapy and planning the next phase of this fiasco of a mission. It was turning into a lonely experience. She was leery of what the future might hold. The strain of working entirely on her own was getting to her. Yes she was in contact with George and her team, but it was all business. She longed for the laughter and silent communication she had with most operatives she worked with. Just as Madeline had predicted, they were her family.

She knew she was kidding herself. That comfort level would not return until she had satisfied George's requests to his complete satisfaction. With the things she had learned, she may never get back to being herself again. The rug had been swept out from under her feet and a bully named George had taken her security blanket. She was at his mercy, and she was being to wonder if she would ever get back to being normal. If there was such a thing within the world she inhabited.

Reclining in bed she drifted off to sleep welcoming the dreams that came. She always had interesting dreams. Prior to her mission they were always abstract. Bright colors and vibrant streams of thoughts. Love, Laughter, comfort. All that she was living her life without. She rejuvenated her soul in her dreams.

Since this mission, her subconscious mind focused on those she had come to know as her friends and family. She relived the happy times, the laughter and even tears. Those thoughts pulled her threw this chaotic time. Visions of Michael ran into her head. His lips touching hers. His body claimed what was eternally his in her soul. They had known from the start, but had denied it. They were one together. Separate they were broken. Functional but broken.

Sighing in her sleep a name crossed her lips. "Michael" It was said with such tenderness and love. Her sweet voice took control of the dark and felled her unknown observer.

Moving forward, Michael placed a soft yet tender kiss on her partially open lips. He couldn't help himself but taste her. Her mouth was like honey flowing over his tastebuds as her spirit flowed through his. Nikita slightly stirred and tried to deepen his kiss. With the strength he didn't knew he possessed he pulled away. At that moment he renewed his vow of protection. She was his heart. She was his soul. She was his life.

He knew her quarters were the most private place in Section at the moment so he gave into the urge and cradled Nikita. Sleep overcame him immediately, and for once his dreams of torment did not intrude.

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

**Warmth, so warm** Nikita snuggled deeper into heat that surrounded her. She moved under the sheets halfway between dream world and reality. **Oh just a little while longer...please. I need just a few minutes more** She tried to chase away consciousness that was invading as each second past. She lived for these dreams of Michael. They could be her most unsettling, but definitely her most rewarding. Sometimes she would awaken with such desire in her mind, that her body would be as taught as a string. Just ripe for the plucking. That was part of the reason she had started her early morning workouts. She needed to have a vent for her ever-present sexual frustration.

Moving her head back and forth on the pillow, she silently willed her fantasy Michael to return. She could literally feel his hands touching her flesh. His mouth turning her into liquid fire as it trailed over her shoulder. Satisfied that she had returned to the misty realm of her dreams, she languished in the comfort and desire that shot through her. It was a combination that branded her 24 hours a day, awake and asleep. Though she had only been in his arm a handful of times, she was ruined for any other man. None other could ignite her temperature and fan the fire the way he could. He possessed her with his obstinence, his willfulness, his tenderness and his dark beauty.

In her dreams, she caught his lips suckling and teasing them with her own. Their tongues waged a timeless battle of satisfaction. A lick, a bite and she was lost. His mouth captured her as he had her soul all those years ago. He dominated it with gentleness. He teased it with withdrawal until she moaned in its absence. She was high on the addictive quality of his kisses. She had to have more. She wouldn't survive without more. One kiss was not enough of a fix. She longed for him to cover every inch of her. For him to be pulsing inside her with desire.

His mouth kept her occupied, while his hands drove her to madness. Sliding over her with such reverence that it brought tears to her eyes. He worshiped her form with the same intensity that he did everything else. He uncovered every nuance. Left no part of her unattended. Thoroughness was a trait of his that she now thanked the God in heaven for.

As each second passed in her misty reality, she was guided towards the inevitable release that lay ahead. She longed for it. She wanted it now, but knew she would miss out on the madness that he could put her through. In the end, they would be one quivering joyously together while they treasured the torture that came before.

Returning the favor, Nikita took control of a body that she rarely had privilege to. She memorized every hair, freckle and even the cute little birthmark on his inner thigh. Her tongue teased and taunted his nipples. Her hair caressed over his body as effortlessly as a cloud floats across the sky. Her hand brought to life his flesh that would bring them such mutual joy.

She found out he was a emotional and physical oxymoron. Such hardness and softness, such tenderness with strength, such turmoil with peace. Together they completed the picture, darkness to light. But as circumstances changed so would their picture. Times there were we she ventured into the deep with only his brilliance as a lifeline. Others she was the savior of his soul. Such a perfect combination to be had. Not easy, but perfect.

**Oh do that again ** She was pulled out of her thoughtful revere, as he devoured her chest. He honored them as if they were the only sustenance given to a starving man. He rolled her bud in his mouth convincing it to flower just for him. The nerves in Nikita's body started to sing in tune with the music of Michael's mouth and hands. He would lead her to the precipice and hold her back as she started to fly. He guided her fluidity for her future satisfaction. He became the master of the strings.

Oh but the master can be taught a thing or two, the student reminded him as she took him into her mouth. She savored the strength and inherent weakness that comes from such act. Slowly she adored him with relentless concentration. She quickened the pace of her mouth and suction to offset the intake of his breathing. Lightly running her teeth, and nipping on his flesh bolted him upright. His hands rushed into her silky hair spun of gold.

He tried to take charge, but in the end submitted as she pushed him higher and higher. He surrendered his need for control. That emotional release in itself was just as shattering and rewarding as the physical one yet to come. With skillful actions and tender ministrations, Nikita savored the feel of him. Soon her desire began to override her thoughts as much as she concentrated on his. Each moan and gulp of air from him, heightened the desire that was racing through her.

Unable to waiting any longer, Michael pulled Nikita up his body relishing the feeling of her skin sliding next to his. Tenderly and cautious of her injuries, he rolled her onto her back. He needed her and she needed him. The time had come.

He entered her slowly, conquering her with each inch as he simultaneously became her conquest. The feeling of being filled and stretched almost pushed her over the edge. Patiently he waited. He had to see her eyes.

"Nikita" he gazed down onto her pleasure filled face. "Ni-Ki-Ta"

Slowly she opened her eyes and realized it wasn't a dream. Her lungs rushed air in quickly, that action and what it did to her body internally was the closest thing to pleasurable pain that Michael had ever experienced.

Dreamily she blinked her eyes, and gave a smile as old as woman herself. "Michael…" Her next words were cut off by his sudden movement. At that point words were no longer needed.

The were soon lost in the hurried pace and roaring fire that both had ignited. Each stroke sending shafts of light through each other's bodies. Then with the last plunge, ecstasy overtook both of them. When she found her breath a few minutes later, she leaned in and gently kissed the lips she treasured so much.

"Good Morning"

Michael granted her as heart stopping smile. One that was seldom seen but exquisite none the less. He gently leaned down and with all the tenderness he could muster, he captured her lips as he reclaimed her heart.

"Morning"

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

Glancing at herself in the mirror, Nikita smoothed her dress idly with her hand. The dark blue velvet hung provocatively over her frame. To see this dress without the wearer, provocative would not be the word to describe it. It just be yards of royal blue trimmed around the cuffs with imbedded pearls. Once infused with a body with spirit, the dress was remarkable.

She radiated pure elegance and class, just what the profile called for. The dress's appeal came from not knowing what the fabric covered up. It was perfect not only in it's appearance, but in what it left hidden. Her body was covered with bruises. Even though they would have matched the lovely color of the gown, it would have been unthinkable. Even Madeline had cringed when Nikita tried on the others that were laid out. None of them were right, so they gave up their search within Section's large closet and hit the local malls.

If she wasn't still relishing the mild aftershocks of her encounter with Michael this morning, and if she didn't have to worry about the mission that was going down tonight, she might have enjoyed this normal activity with Madeline. Her face would alternately reflected distress and desire during the same conversation. She had let her mask slip a little to the side. Madeline almost wished she had recorded the looks, they would give her hours of contemplation for the reasons.

After a surprisingly delightful lunch, they had returned to the Section with their packages. Nikita went off to prepare for this evening, while Madeline went to stow her acquisitions. Those acquisitions had been a topic of discussion for the two women. Nikita had been in the dressing room, when Madeline reappeared with the bag. She wasn't positive, but assuming that Madeline's slight blush was any indication Victoria Secrets had yet another customer. Try as she may, Madeline had kept to form and refused any comment.

A slight buzz sounded from the corner of her quarters. "Sugar, George just walked in looking for you."

** Damn he's early** Inserting a drop pearl earring into her ear, she responded. "Tell him I'll be right out. Oh, Walter do you have my stuff ready yet?"

"Sure do Sugar. All set and ready to go. See you in a few."

Taking one last look at her image, she pasted a smile on her face. **Passable** Passable in her mind maybe, but breathtaking in all others who would see her tonight. She looked like a cherished princess. She went through her checklist as she collected her things. 1. Stunning long sleeved blue velvet gown trimmed in pearls around the cuffs and high-necked color. (Check) 2. Long pearl drop earrings and matching bracelet. (Check) 3. Hair piled high with ringlets escaping from the pearl and diamond pins sprinkled throughout. (Check) 4. Matching velvet shoes and wrap. (Check) 5. hidden glock, small enough to fit in her garter belt. (Check) 6. And state of the art tracker sewn into the lining of her unmentionables. (Check)

**Looks like were ready to go.**

Heading down the hall, Nikita barely registered the stir her appearance caused. For the past week, all were used to seeing her at her worst. Within a 4 hour period, she now glowed with inner beauty to match her outward appearance. Madeline had worked a miracle again. If you did not know better, you would think she was of perfect health. But that was far from reality, she was running on sheer willpower and terror alone.

"Sugar, Cinderella would have been jealous." Walter spit out as she sauntered into his station. His grin of appreciation lifted her spirits 100%. Leaning over she playfully gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek leaving her dark lipstick as her mark.

"Flattery will get you…" She grinned as she collected his toys she needed for this evening.

Walters's eyes perked up. "One night with you?"

Sweet laughter echoed through the halls as she tried to reign in control. "…in more trouble then you can handle."

Leaning in to whisper in her ear, he moans. "Oh but I just love trouble." He looks over his shoulder and slowly straightens when his newest visitor catches his attention. **Ah prince charming** he muttered then grinned at Nikita. He quickly finished handing her equipment to her and politely became enthralled with another task. Taken aback by his abrupt change in attitude, she turns around. She already knew who was behind her. She always able to sense him before she saw him.

"You look beautiful"

"Thank you" as she catches his gaze. She saw concern and underneath a smidgen of devotion.

Tucking an errant strand back into her coiffure, he grinned a slight grin. Then seriousness returned. "Be careful. If you need me…"

"I will and I won't. This will be over shortly." She had returned to her operative mode just in time as George walked through the door.

"So how is my lovely wife tonight?" He stopped in amusement as the two operatives separated. One giving him a look of readiness another a look of wary.

"Your blushing bride feels up to speed. Everything set and ready?" Nikita asked with hidden meaning. This was to be a long night and upcoming day for them, for Section and most importantly the Synod.

"The ball is in play. Time to start the sequence." The turn in unison and make their way toward egress where their limo was waiting. The made a gorgeous couple. She an angel in a velvet and him a sinful looking devil in a tuxedo. If they all survived the night, it would be a miracle.

Michael watched until they rounded the corner. Walking to his laptop, he activated the monitoring program for the tracker he had placed on Nikita. His earlier search had been fruitful, but there was once thing he still did not understand. Why was Nikita working with Red Cell? She was in way too deep. He had to try to save her before she was lost forever.

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

The sun was just setting as Nikita and George arrived at the Collingsworth estate. The golden and rose hues of the sky were in sharp contract to the white marble façade of the sprawling house. Fashioned after the Hurst castle in San Simian, this was the perfect setting for the annual Harvest Gala sponsored by Kitty Collingsworth and her Foundation for the Betterment of the Arts. Those to be in attendance were sure to be the cream of what society had to offer. Money born into, money made, but primarily a group of nosy, bored and very wealthy patrons.

Kitty's husband Gregory was a well-known philanthropist. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he never had to work a day in his life. He made investments, as others would play tennis or golf. It was a game, he was ruthless in its pursuit, but if he lost no difficulty. He actually liked losing every now and then. It kept him on his toes. Maybe that was why he had been drawn to the intelligence market. The challenge of outwitting unknown and unseen opponents appealed to his devil may care attitude. He had never been of much concern in the past while he dabbled in espionage, but that was until his true role was determined with regards to the Synod. He was THE connection. Robert Kelly had really been very useful in parting with his knowledge so soon before he died.

Nikita double-checked her Comm unit and it's connection to all the team members. Communication was vital at this stage. They were back at their makeshift headquarters waiting for the signal to start their phase of this mission. George and Nikita were going in alone. No backup was around. It wasn't feasible, and it wasn't part of the profile. They were expendable if it came down to it. They knew the risks, had even stacked the deck in favor of their hand. Contingencies and backup plans were ready to be executed if neither of them made it out.

Nikita's hand was on its way toward the door handle, when George stopped her. He took her left hand in both of his and kissed her ring finger. Catching her Azure eyes in his silver ones, he pulled out a ring from his pocket. As he slipped it on her finger, she let out a gasp. A perfect 10-carat cinnamon diamond ringed with matching pink pearls. It was exquisite. Nikita did not know the rarity of having that color stone. She did not know it had taken 10 years to find such clarity, dispersion and shade. She only knew the beauty that it held in her eyes. The sparkle of it flashed against the interior of the car. It was one of his acquisitions that he treasured greatly. Lives had been lost in the deal he had made to obtain this piece of jewelry.

In his own way, he was giving this to Nikita to say he hoped she made it out safe. He knew one would most likely be sacrificed. As callous as he could be, working closely with Nikita had touched a miniscule part of him. He knew he would give up her life and anybody else's for his plans, but he felt the reemergence of what might be regret if she was the one to go. He admired her. If she made it threw and they pulled this off, he had plans for her and her selected teammates. This mission was a test in a way. Can they handle the pressure? Can they handle the level of planning that was needed?

Raising her hand to his lips again, he brushed them across her knuckles. "For better or worse…"

Her hand tensed at his casual words. Underneath they held meaning. Entering into this wide open, they proceeded forth. "Hopefully not in death, do we part." She responded.

_______________

"Nikita. That's a beautiful name. Where do you hail originally? Your accent is absolutely divine." It was the same question just another face asking it. For 4 hours, Nikita had put up with the leers from the male attendees and the inane chattering of their useless wives.

Holding onto her glass of sherry being showcased on the best Waterford crystal, she responded her normal response in the same brainless attitude as her inquisitor. She was playing the board socialite to perfection. She had expounded on her "home school education", for one just can't be in the same place long enough to attend the same institution. She talked of her favorite charity, the homeless children. With that she received looks of shock. One even had the nerve to say that "well that is a cause, but they can be so dirty. And we all know that if they tried, they could be off the streets in no time. I have the perfect one for you, we are looking for a patron for the…" Nikita tuned her out as she tried not to use her Section training to dispatch this arrogant overstuffed snob.

Making her rounds she went in search of George, her loving if not devoted husband. Couldn't you tell. Look at the ring on her finger. Oh if she heard about the rarity of this stone one more time, she would hurl it over the balcony. She knew that he had been in discussions with Gregory in the study. Tapping her hidden Comm unit, she listened in on his conversation. Acting slightly inebriated and overly talkative, George was laying out the bait.

It was up in the air on which one of them would draw Gregory's attention. George seemed to be doing just fine. Within a half an hour, Nikita was impressed with his field techniques. Her host was suspicious and cautious, but that was what they wanted. Nikita heard another glass of brandy being poured. Soon after George lost his hold on reality. As his body hit the floor, Nikita whispered "Good Luck."

Heading into the study, Nikita fell into her role. "Oh darling. I am so sorry Gregory, but it looks like my husband had a tad to much to drink." She rolled her eyes as she went to shake him awake.

"You are not going to be able to wake him up I'm afraid. He is out for the count. I have a wonderful idea. Why don't you two stay here tonight? That way you can continue to enjoy the party and we are not saddened by your disappearance." He hoped she went for it. He wanted a little more time to find out who this individual was why knew so much about his secret business.

"Gregory, I am sorry. But I am flying into Paris tomorrow to attend the Armani fashion show. As much as I want him to come here for a private fitting, he refuses saying something about it being fashion week. Of all the nerve, hmp." **Sigh** "I guess I'll have to take him home and then pack." She played her part to a T.

"Well I did want to talk with Gregory tomorrow about some potential business ventures. Would you mind if he just stays here? It would no doubt be easier on you." He relaxed when her face lit up with a stunning smile.

"Oh you are such an angel. That would be perfect. Just let me help you upstairs with him. No don't give me that look, I insist!" She leaned forward and softly kissed his offered cheek. "You are a life saver. I don't know WHAT I would do without you!"

Nikita followed her "husband" as he was carried upstairs to the guest wing. She tucked in into bed, and kissed him goodnight. "Sleep tight my love. I'll call you tomorrow." Leaning forward, she planted a listening device on the side of the nightstand. Turning off the light, she left the room. Leaving the head of the agency in the hand of a virtual unknown.

As she partook of another glass of sherry, she said goodbye to her new friends.

"Sequence in play. Countdown 12 hours." She listened as her 4 associates checked in and verified their status. This was going to be a long night.

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

From the limo, the next call Nikita made was to the Section. It took her a few minutes, but Operations' voice finally spilled forth from the phone. Rather annoyed with her interruption, he barely restrained the fury in his voice.

"This had better be good."

He was so short and to the point. She was now only appreciating his style. "Briefing in 1 hour. Need the top five as usual."

"What do you mean, briefing? You're calling a briefing? What is going on?"

"Marcus" She had remembered his name from her first meeting with George. She used it as a reminder of the situation. "Emergency briefing in 1 hour. I don't care where they are now, they'd better be there when I show up. This is a Code Omega alert. Start mobilization NOW!" She severed the connection and continued with her plans. She understood his reaction. His superior put her into play, when he had no concept of the situation. His resistance to being left in the dark amplified his lack of faith in her.

However much she felt the desire to ask his advice, there was no turning back now. The Synod was being eradicated with the combined effort of George's hand picked army. Their individual organizations played a vital role. They were the Braun. The group if six were the brains. That level of manpower was needed. They were up against an accomplished and very well trained foe. The real challenge was to make sure that these participants remain oblivious as to who was really in play. With the joint effort of her team and having George at the helm, they had orchestrated this take down.

The details in the minutia were immense. With their own branch as their responsibility, the stakes were high. If there was failure on their part or the outcome of their actions, the others divisions were authorized to dismantle that particular establishment. The Agency would disavow any knowledge that it existed, and it would in turn supply all information necessary for their subsequent demise.

The potential for destruction was enormous. She had to deal with Red Cell, Legion, Radius and First Order hoping for any slip in the actions of Section One. They had been enemies for too long for so little time to change their outlook. They would all get the job done, but they would be searching for a weakness to disable their foes.

Then there was the Section. If they stood in her way, if they did not follow the plan to the letter, they would be signing their own death warrant. She prepared to do battle with the people she cared about the most in the context of their own safety. Fear raced through her, as she pondered how far she would have to go to get their cooperation. There was no way she was going to let the Section be led to the guillotine by it's own actions. But in the end, would she be able to live with herself? Would her callousness for the individuals and her protection for the unit, take its toll on her soul?

George had turned the tables. He had placed Nikita in an untenable position. She, who prided herself in the protection of one, had to focus on the good of the whole. It was foreign feeling, but as time progressed she was beginning to have a unique understanding of her superiors. Madeline had told once she had taken a taste of power, that she would be back for more. But in each scenario that power was presented, the last thing she wanted to do was grasp a hold of it. She was learned to accept more and more, but the overall manipulation and playing God that was needed, she had not fondness for. What concerned her was that with each encounter, wielding the power become easier. Was she destined to be turned into them?

The limo gunned into the underground structure and screeched to a halt. Taking a deep breath she gathered her gear and ran into the Section as fast as her dress would allow.

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

** Click Click Click Click **

Operations and Madeline heard Nikita before they saw her. Racing around the corner with her cell phone jammed into her ear and a PDA in her hand, Nikita took in their worried faces. The two most stoic individuals in the Section showed Nikita their true colors. They were at a loss. Not only had the tables been turned on Nikita, but theirs were gone altogether.

They were thrown back into the past. A time when little information was parted on them and miracles were expected in return. Their assimilation into their positions had been a slow process. By the time they had realized the intent, it had been too late. Their lack of attention to their souls had taken its price. Now in a matter of a few weeks, they were back to square one. Albeit for a limited time, but as they say history is studied so that the same mistakes are not repeated. Maybe they would learn a thing or two from this. That is if they survived.

"What's the status on the mobilization?" She jumped right to the point as she continued walking forcing them to follow in her wake. She was all business, and SHE was in charge.

"All operatives have been contacted. We have full staffing in Europe, Asia, South American. Russia and North America will be online in 10 minutes." Madeline was the one to speak. Operations looked as if he had swallowed his tongue. When Nikita had called Code Omega, his heart had dropped. It meant the mobilization of all Section resources worldwide. If this were the Department of Defense they would be at DEFCON 1, one step away from all out war.

"What about Australia? They are a vital part of this. I need them up in 30 minutes max."

"Done. Would you mind telling us what the HELL is going ON!!! Where is George?" Operations realized his voice had just broken the decibel meter, but he didn't care. As the three proceeded toward the conference room at a good clip, Nikita took in the tension level of the Section. She had left just a few hours ago with it running smoothly. Now with a single sentence out of her mouth, Operatives were rushing around preparing for quick departure. Only necessary systems were engaged, and Walter was dispensing out the anticipated armament. None knew the reason for the Code, none but Nikita. The force hit her like a rush.

"George is otherwise occupied." Nikita slowed to a halt.

Steely ice blue eyes trapped the two that looked on. "I have been given the authority to act on his behalf. As of this moment, you will obey all orders out of my mouth to the letter. If you fail, I will personally exact both of your punishments before I get mine. Do I make myself clear?"

Stunned by that revelation, Operations just sputtered. "You can't mean…"

"Yes, you are not above being cancelled right now. We are all expendable. Now cut the crap, we need to make sure that doesn't happen. Understand?"

Not trusting his voice, he curtly nodded his head. Madeline drew in a deep breath as Nikita turned away. She muttered "I knew you would be back for more."

A small knife cut into her throat faster then Madeline thought possible. Nikita meant business. Holding the edge just above her jugular, Nikita stepped in closer. "I would hate to do this Madeline, but if you leave me no choice I will slit your throat right here and make him…" She motions with her head toward Operations "…clean it up. I expect FULL cooperation with your usual 'cheery' attitude."

Nikita's blue velvet dress swirled around her ankles as she departed to the conference room. Marcus shaken out of his stupor gently wiped the droplet of blood from Madeline's otherwise pristine neck. Shaking his head, he took her arm to follow their new Leader if it was just for the moment.

Hesitating before she entered the room where Walter, Michael and Birkoff were waiting, Nikita found her voice once more. "I really need your cooperation on this. I will let you know all that I am allowed to. But mark my words, George and I have set this up so that your assistance is preferable but not critical."

With that parting shot, they filtered into the room. All waited with baited breath, as Nikita began to speak.

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

It was surreal site watching Nikita stand where Operations always stood. She moved back and forth with a purpose. Her appearance was quite comical. Dressed to the nines in velvet and pearls, this fair-hair waif was to impart to them the reason behind the Code Omega. As Michael glanced around the room, he was as confused as everyone. **Was the Code Omega against Red Cell? What did this have to do with the other piece of information he had obtained? ** He was in the dark as were his coworkers, but he had the most trust in her. He recognized the strength and understood the price it would take. She was protecting something or someone. That was the only time he had ever seen that level of pure concentration and unbending will in her eyes. He only hoped that her protective nature would not jeopardize this mission.

Michael did not fully comprehend yet. That protective instinct was her mission. Flipping the remote over in her hand, she stopped and held every ones attention. With the press of a button, she flew them headlong into the embroiled confusion.

"Over the past two weeks, you have all been patiently waiting and wondering what mission George has tasked me with. Your waiting is over." As she flicked through the information on the Vid Screen, she stopped at what appeared to be an organizational chart with the faces of the major players laid out in their appropriate positions.

"In the past two years, Section has had many run-ins with all of the individuals you see before you. Until now it was believed that they acted on their own accord. New information has come to light about their true relationship."

"The consortium you see is called The Synod. Each of the five members brings to the table a well-backed, well-funded and well-informed group of trained mercenaries, scientists and computer analysts. In essence each arm is as organized and resourceful as Section One." She paused as she took in the stunned faces, letting them comprehend the importance of what she just told them.

"Ling Tran, Arriane Kreddough, Gregory Collingsworth, Victor Armouf and Carlos Santiago. They comprise The Synod. Each branch has certain specialties. Carlos Santiago controls, monitors and governs all of the drug cartels in South America and Hungary,. Ling Tran is the leader of the Triad in the Orient and is in control of all their overseas activities. Arriane Kreddough, the only female in the bunch, controls the arms shipments for the IRA and their connections with the nuclear weapons and anti-submarine underground. Victor Armouf is the leader of the newly formed Arabic Nation whose primary focus is to wipe out Isreal, Jordon and the democratic influences around the world mainly the US. Finally we come to Gregory Collingsworth. He specializes in nuclear missiles, satellites and reconnaissance. He has strong ties and power with NASA and the French Space Defense Agency SAFT. Get to know their faces. They are our worst nightmare."

Stunned would not be the word to describe their reactions. Dumbfounded, overwhelmed and fearful would just touch the surface. Seeing that Operations and Madeline were not going to respond, Michael stepped in for some clarification. "Since the Code Omega is in effect, I take it we are going against the entire Synod?"

"Michael we are good, but not that good. Please focus your attention upon Gregory Collingsworth. He is our target. We are to take down his entire organization, also commonly known as Golden Door. From the information we have gathered they have facilities in Brussels, Sidney, Orlando, Kiev and Seoul Korea. Two of them contain toxic chemicals and potential warhead storage. Hazmat housekeeping will be needed for cleanup."

"Birkoff, the information that you need for tactical, operative requirements and the associated timetable are located in this subdirectory on the main server." She passes him the PDA in her hands. "Our primary directive is total eradication of Golden Door, but it must me done with very strict standards."

Madeline finally found her voice. "Won't this scenario leave us exposed to the rest of the Synod? Section one will not be able to withstand such an attack."

"I am not at liberty to discuss all the pertinent information regarding this, however we must abide by the agenda I have set forth so that it will coincide with the simultaneous attack on the other 4 divisions." She could almost see the questions floating across their faces. **Who, How? ** They were a large force in this industry, and they could only tackle one fifth of The Synod. She knew they would want answers to their questions but even if she were able to inform them, they would not believe her. If she had not seen it with her own eyes, she would be doubtful as well.

"Who is doing that?" Operations almost muttered to himself.

"That information is need to know." Even Nikita got a thrill out of say that. The power demon resurfaced again. "George and the rest of my team are in place. We are waiting on the last piece of intelligence prior to our full-scale attack I will notify you when we are ready to proceed. Please review all the information I have provided. Birkoff will supply you with copies of the tactical and operational requirements."

Leaving her quiet audience behind, Nikita turned and left for her quarters. She needed to prepare for the last phase. Soon she would exchange her dress for the uniform of the field operative. Once this all was in play, she had her own special mission to take care of. It would be the hardest yet.

Watching her leave, they all took in the information just given to them. Each went their separate ways, preparing for their involvement. Nikita had even put Operations and Madeline to work. All hands were going to be needed. They all knew they were to defeat a challenging and deadly foe. They just didn't know who else or what else was involved, or what the punishment would be for failure. But then they did know that. In the Section, it was always death.

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

"Michael can I see you for a moment?"

Nikita spoke from the doorway distracting him from his concentration. This was the second time he had reviewed the information and he still didn't like how it was laid out. There were too many unknowns. Not unknowns that were needed to complete the mission, but the kind that came from not understanding the big picture. He was sure that he had all the pieces, but just couldn't put together an integral part of the puzzle.

A part of him was put off by being interrupted. The other part desperately wanted to know what she had to say. Pulling his focus from the computer screen, he motioned her forward. As she sat down, she activated a security scrambler that was known only to the Agency. Once she was sure they were secure, her body seemed to deflate. For the first time he really noticed the emotional and physical price she had paid.

"I need your help. Believe it or not, you are the only one I trust right now. If you gave me your word, you would stick by it. I need that." She paused letting her eyes drift closed. She had changed out of the fancy dress of luxurious fabric and color in the standard Section black. She was so unlike any other. She looked gorgeous in either attire. This preponderance alone best explained the person of Nikita, the person who had stolen into his heart. She was a meld of elegance and comfort, of spirit and acquiescence, and of softness and icy steel.

She was becoming the grey, in a world that saw their operatives as Black and White. How ironic. "What do you want me to do?"

"I can't be two places at once. I need to oversea this takedown and verify that it runs smoothly. At the same time, I have my own separate mission to complete. Both are crucial."

She sighed as she rubbed her hands over her weary face. "I need you to monitor things from here. If things don't go by the book on this end, the ramifications are unacceptable."

He looked like he wanted to ask for more information. He checked himself knowing she would give him all that she could. "I can't tell you any more than that. I will be in contact at all times. You will go on my signal. Will you do this for me?"

She finally caught his gaze as she opened her eyelids. She saw all the unanswered questions he had. The uncertainty was written over his face. She watched the mental struggle play in his mind. After what seemed liked hours but in reality was only 30 seconds, he shook his head. He really had no choice in the matter. She had asked for his help. Asked not commanded. How could he say no?

"Give me the information and how I am to get in touch with you. From the briefing profile I received, this was well thought out. I will see that it runs smoothly. What are the expected losses?"

Pain flashed over her face. She hated this part of the job. She knew it had to be done, but to reduce lives to numbers went against everything fiber of her being. "We shall have 100% containment of Golden Door. All are expendable. We anticipate a 20% decrease in our forces by the time this is over." Stopping to get his attention. "But if the timetable is not followed to the second, we can lose up to 60%. Now do you see what we are up against?"

**My God, 60%** He paused. "Are you sure about this? Is there any other way?" How unlike him, Nikita thought. He normally takes the directives and follows it with out question. Then again, it was rare that Operations and Madeline ever asked for advice without making it a test.

"I personally ran the SIMMs Michael, this is the only way to ensure a successful completion of all the mission parameters with minimal loss."

"What about the other mission, do you need assistance?" He wanted to ask for the details, but her hidden looked stopped him. Where she was going, none would know. Would she return, that too was undetermined.

Slowly standing up, she slid a specialized and secure comm unit across his desk. "Thank you. You have done more than I had hoped. Just knowing you are taking care of this end, is all the help I need."

Walking toward the door, she stopped as his hand touched her shoulder. Hidden by the wall and her scrambling device, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead. Without words he expressed what he was feeling. Be careful and good luck.

Relaxing for a brief moment against his lips, she borrowed from his strength. The alarm on her watch quietly beeped throwing Nikita into action. Giving Michael a small smile, she walked out the door.

The clock was ticking and the countdown had begun.

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

Pacing back and forth in front of a wall of monitors, Nikita made final preparations. The face of each member of her team was visible from a different monitor. A sixth display held the image of Michael who was waiting for her command. The largest monitor remained blank. It was only time before it was filled. When it was, they were past the point of no return.

Walking her team through a dry run, she reviewed the upcoming sequence of events.

"O'Malley once the conference is established, have Red Cell proceed with actions against Santiago. His forces are the most ingrained and will take the longest for annihilation."

"Confirmed and ready for attack."

"5 minutes later and on my mark, Taylor and Austin have your forces from Radius simultaneously hit Tran's Triad in Asia and the Americas."

"Confirmed they won't know what hit them"

"Once confirmation is received about the status of Radius' success, Hernandez taken the Arab world by storm. Remember watch out for the biological weapons."

"All personnel in position. Ready for countdown."

"And 15 minutes after initiation Section will in succession bring down the bases belonging to Collingsworth and Golden Door." She quickly switched off the multiple satellite feed. "Michael, report on readiness."

His deep voice echoed through the room. "On your word Nikita." Nodding she established the link again.

"We're confirmed. Barkley you and Legion are last, I need you to hold back until primary damage has been done. Then take on Kreddough. We will be executing and in play for the last phase when you become active. You are to follow up and ensure 100% containment. Status."

"Ready and waiting. Please verify all coordinates now." The other five activated their SATCOM equipment and initiated a link to Barkley.

"All transmissions received. We are on-line. Ready for information download from each of the Synod's servers. Agency will have all information upon completion."

Nikita let out a pent-up breath. In five minutes, give or take the Synod would never knew what hit them. They would lose everything. Before another thought could rush through her head, the large monitor lit up and a warning come through the system. **Warning, unknown entity establishing satellite connection. Warning** They seemed to not want to wait those five precious minutes, interesting.

Giving the verbal command and necessary access code, she granted the connection as the beaten face of George appeared before her. Seeing anyone in pain was gut wrenching to Nikita, but for some odd reason have HIM be in this predicament was entertaining.

"Hello, George. I take it you have enjoyed your stay with your gracious hosts?" Glancing at O'Malley, a curt nod was the beginning of the end of the Synod's.

Barely able to move his mouth, George murmured unintelligibly in response. The camera shifted as Gregory Collingsworth came into focus.

"Ah Nikita, a pleasure as always. I'm so sorry but your 'husband' is a little worse for wear. He wouldn't give me the information I seek. But before he become incapacitated, he did mention you might be able to help me."

Smiling Nikita looked at her watch, 5…4…3…2…1. A loud shrill engulfed Mr. Collingsworth. He looked rather puzzled. Turning to an aide, he was barking orders. "What the hell is going on? Find out…What Carlos is on the phone?"

"Maybe I can shed a little light on the subject Gregory." She stated in a calm voice.

"What? What is going on?" This from her hysterical adversary.

"To put it simply, The Synod is no longer a viable organization. Your forces are being exterminated as we speak. Piece by piece each branch is being brought down."

Another load alarm sounded and another phone rang. "That would be Mr Tran, Gregory. He is experiencing difficulty with all of his facilities exploding."

Turning for confirmation, Gregory's face showed extreme worry and anger. "What do you want?"

Out of Nikita's mouth came laughter that even shocked her. It was almost evil. Gazing at him with her now ice blue eyes, she looked all business. Shaking her head, she responded. "For you to die."

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

The look on Gregory's face gave Nikita pure amusement. She had planned this moment for what seemed like a lifetime. Over and over in her mind she ran through each response he would give. Every one would implement a different tactic. Each tactic however would lead to the same end. It was just the road that was taken was different. His response was one that she had anticipated. Gregory was just like Operations and even George. All three were used to getting their way. The she came long and threw a loop into their plans. Things were bound to get interesting. They were thrown off kilter and she could manipulate their actions toward her ultimate goal.

Nikita had not begun to realize it yet, but she was slipping into the role of leader and master puppeteer with unbelievable ease. In this scenario she held her own, but with a few more years of practice she would surpass them all. If she were strong enough to maintain her hold on her compassion and humanity, she would be the best there ever was. If she weren't careful, her soul would be dimmed and finally extinguished, as was the case with the current leadership.

To give Marcus his due, he held emotions in check. But feeling them was reserved for private moments. The lessons of the years had forced his sequestration for survival. She genuinely believed he was a good man who had lost his way. She could see the pain, even hear it on occasion. That she assumed was the reason behind his riding Michael and even her so hard. He was tempering them with sparks, before they were thrown headlong into the fire as she was now. His persistence and even anger gave her the ability to handle a situation that she thought she couldn't handle.

"That is not an option." Gregory had finally found his voice. His coloring had changed from red, to purple, to white and back to red again. Quite a rainbow.

"Need I remind you that you don't have a choice." She grinned as First Order began their wave. **Perfect timing** "Mr. Armouf will no doubt is very upset at the moment. The Hamass is most likely running for their lives as we speak. Do you think that he will want to be apart of this conversation?"

The leader of Golden Door, finally looked relieved. He snickered. "You will stop your attacks immediately or I will…"

"Kill George? You should know that in this industry everyone is expendable. George is just a pawn that got caught in a game of his own making." Looking at her clock, she activated her link with Michael. "In 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1. Proceed."

"All forces engaged. 1 hour estimated for all containment." He responded as he hurriedly typed the commands that would grind Golden Door to a halt. "Will up-link data as it filters in."

Satisfied that Michael would see to the rest, Nikita refocused on her prey. "Shall I tell you what is happening now? You might want to know what is happening to your precious Golden Door."

"What have you done you Bitch?" The monitor switched to George as one of Gregory's bodyguards pistol whipped him. Looking for a reaction for her, he was disappointed. He was surprised. He was sure he had seen passion and heart behind her eyes before. Now all that was there was emptiness. That scared him. She was an unknown.

Looking up at the monitor that was constantly displaying the update feed regarding Section One's mission, she began to recite her findings. "Brussels was just infiltrated and destroyed. All the computer information has been downloaded and erased. Tsk Tsk you really should have better security Gregory. - - - - - Seoul Korea and Kiev just had some structural damage that had a 100% casualty rate. So sad, such massive loss of life. - - - - - - Oh my, Sidney and Orlando just relieved of their toxic storage and nuclear arsenal before the building experienced a fire problem. Safety is number one wouldn't you say." She paused as she walked forward and depressed a red button on the monitor console. "Oh and before you activate your targeting laser hidden in 2 of your Satellites out in space. I regret to inform you that, I just destroyed them."

The wind had just been taken out of her opposition's sails. He was defeated. Speech was not an option, so she continued.

"There is only one branch left Gregory. What do you want to bet that it won't survive the next 15 minutes?"

You could barely make out his forced comment. "I don't make losing bets." With a more defined voice. "I repeat what do you want?"

Satisfied she had him were she wanted him, she conceded. "Gregory, I already know your location. I can come in and take you alive. Or I can come in and execute you. You have a choice. Make it."

"What about your counterpart?" He queried. Trying beyond all hope to waylay the inevitable.

"If he dies, I will personally see that you die a slow and painful death at my own hands. What will it be?"

Looking down at his hands, he whispers "Come and get me if you can. But it won't be easy." He terminated the connection before he heard her retort.

"It never is."

Nikita turned and walked out of the Satellite Center. Tapping her comm unit she notified her team. "Phase 2 in effect. Henderson and Barkley monitor dismantlement of Synod. Austin Rendezvous point A in 20 minutes as backup. Taylor have transportation ready for egress. O'Malley check point 2 immediately and bring the gear." Clicking off she left to finish the last part of her mission, the acquisition and/or execution of it's leaders.

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

Rubbing his weary eyes. Michael finally let the exhaustion he felt course through his body. He had been at the monitor for 15 hours straight. First with preparation and apprehension until he got the go ahead from Nikita. Then his intense concentration was focused on the mission they had just accomplished. The invasion was so well planned, he actually needed a stop watch during parts. Switching back from feed to feed he monitored and guided the players out in the field. He itched to be in the trenches with them, but his place was there at Mission Control. He watched friends go down, and recruits falter. Each hit a sting to his soul.

In the aftermath, he was finalized the numbers and calculations. All data had been uploaded straight to the Agency. The Medlab and housekeeping reports were flooding in. **Only 13% loss and 20 % injured. It could be worse. ** 13% loss was still a hard-pressed so soon after their war with Red Cell, but as Nikita had said if this hadn't gone well it would have been up to 60%. That would have shut down the Section alone with their inability to handle their workload.

Birkoff had crashed an hour ago, as his head had fallen smack into his keyboard. Michael had escorted him personally to his Section quarters. The poor guy had taken the brunt of communiqué management. He monitored all downloads and equipment destruction as Golden Door was disposed. That was a monumentous task in itself for they were the size of the Section if not larger. Then at having Operations and Madeline taking on support roles, Birkoff had been constantly barking about what to touch and what not to touch. Like a protective father over his children, he snapped if you got to close to one of his toys. Put it all together and the kid was beat.

Glancing around as he took a sip of his now frigid coffee, he surveyed the damage. Operatives were filing in. Dropping off their gear to a very haggard and at the moment overworked Walter. You could almost see the tears in his eyes at the condition of some of the equipment. Pieces were missing, guns were jammed, communication equipment was smashed. It would take him months to get back up to speed. Michael pitied the poor fool who got in his way for the next few weeks.

Looking up from his bench and peering around mounds of equipment. Walter caught Michael's glance. Through the tears and exhaustion, it radiated forth and found a partner in Michael's green eyes. They were concerned. Neither had heard from Nikita since she terminated communication 11 hours ago. They both had been swamped with work to be done, but in the back of their mind consideration for Nikita reigned supreme. Even as Michael had helped an almost delusional Birkoff to his quarters, the young genius's thoughts were on her.

Michael tried for the fourth time to get in touch with her. She was either out of range, something had happened to her equipment or God forbid something had happened to her. None one was sure about what mission she was on. None could even guess. All were impress with her abilities in the situation. In fact she left almost everybody dumbfounded. She had pulled off the impossible with less casualties than expect. She had brought down an organization that would have been their greatest adversary. She had earned the grudging respect of all.

Even Madeline and Operations gave her due. In all actuality, they were very miffed at still being in the dark, but she had no part in that. The only thing that concerned them was her working condition after this was over and done. Would she even be theirs? Would George keep her in a position of power? Would she become them in heart and mind and soul?

So many unanswered questions. And they wouldn't be answered until she returned. Where was she?

Laced with concern and worry, Michael activated her tracker for the third time. Again he received the same response. The system resources were low due to increased activity. This was not a primary function and this request would not be generated. Showing a un-Michael response he slammed his coffee cup down and cursed under his breath. Worry was all he felt right now. Exhausted had fled. Concern for his heart took control.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The day wore on and patience was getting thin. A loud noise startled everyone at the announcement of incoming in receiving. A call was made to Medlab to have a gurney and triage doctor ready. All personnel and teams had reported in long before. Five hearts dropped. Was it? Could it be? What now?

As each made their way to the receiving bay, their thoughts overtook them. So much concern to one member. But then she was not an average operative. She was their Nikita. Would she still be the same when she returned?

The heavy steel doors opened, and a flurry of activity came forth. No blonde hair, no lithe form was standing. Glancing past and into the van, they saw a form being place on the Gurney. As they moved into the light, they let out a sigh. Salt and Pepper hair, and a rather beaten up body. He was barely conscious. While he was rolled past the audience of viewers, he motioned for them to stop. His eyes roved over those before him. Barely making a sound, he mouthed his question. No one understood him. Madeline leaned closer as he whispered into her ear. Looking at his face she shook her head. The cart was them put in motion toward Medlab and the impending surgery.

As they watched the Agency head disappear, four faces turned to hers. The question was apparent.

"He doesn't know where she is either." She turned before her face fell and walked to her office. The others just contemplated her words as the guilt wracked their minds. They felt they had let her down.

One remained. He would not give up. He had to find her. Living with an unknown was unacceptable.

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

The cold from the ground seeped into her. She had walked for hours after her escape from the Colombian compound. Per willpower had pulled her through. Each step was a step back to her own life. A step away from the horrors she had experienced and the horrors she had done. Each step led her to the soul she had put on the shelf. As she fought against her muscles with physical strength, her emotional fortitude fought to save her spirit. This was all out war. The battleground was Nikita's heart and mind.

The task of finishing her mission was harder then she expected. Freeing George from his captors was easy in comparison. With stealth and a few well-placed "toys", she and O'Malley had succeeded in taking the Collingsworth stronghold. He returned George back to the world of espionage and limited safely as she proceeded with the edict George had given prior to the start of this nightmare. She had fulfilled it to save those she cared about and the life she now realized she treasured. The final blow wasn't the pain inflicted on her already broken body, it was the pain from the mind forced to do acts inconceivable for the owner.

Closing her eyes she pictured the dark room. The sound of Gregory pleading as she made him kneel before her echoed in her ears. The icy coldness of the steel of her gun seeping into her hand. The blank look that overtook her as the numbness crept into her soul. Raising it to his head, she closed herself to the torment she inflicted on herself. Her finger moved and the gun jerked out of her hand. Stolen from her was her soul. She collapsed as the last vestige of her heart washed away. Tears fell against her pale cheeks as she watched the blood drain from a corpse she created. A corpse that would have been alive save her actions.

That had started her journey into hell.

There had been four more rooms, four more screams, four more executions and deeper she went. She had given into the darkness. She had let it rule her mind. It was the only way she could conceivably proceed with doing such horrific actions. As the last bullet pierced the skull of Carlos Santiago, Nikita had put the gun to her own head. Without her heart, she knew she was just a shell. Living with such emptiness was not an option. But then a flash of what would be classified as brilliance walked through her soul. As she said goodbye to all she knew, she had spoken his name. That name gave her that strength to start the journey back.

It was not an all out easy path. It was strewn with the baggage and doubt ingrained in her soul. Each obstacle she overcame emotionally as she made her way out of Santiago's compound.

Each step led her to her soul. Each step led her to her heart….until she could walk no more. Darkness enveloped her and the world went black. Her reawakening will was not enough. She gave in to the darkness and embraced the devil once more.

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

Michael never lived well with something gnawing at his gut. His decision was made. Sneaking out of the Section at the first chance he had. He searched out his target. It wasn't easy, but easier then it should be due to the operative's tiredness.

"Where is she?" His cold voice as he threw O'Malley against the wall. His hands were convulsing around his neck, just itching to squeeze the life out of his body. Thomas, Arlene, Shawn….the list could go on. The faces of his colleagues killed by the likes of him, flew through his mind. Then one face appeared and his grip lightened. Just in time, the air rushed back into O'Malley's lungs with speed.

"I don't know. She didn't come back with me when I returned George." He didn't bother to ask whom. He didn't bother to play dumb. He had heard of this dark angel. He had heard about his connection to the one he knew as Nikita.

"Don't play stupid. What was left of the mission?" He spit out. Barely restraining his fury, his green gaze turned to silver in an instant.

Coughing as air rushed forth, O'Malley thought about the setup. "The organizations were all taken down. Data was transferred over. George was retrieved. What….oh god…"

Michael was on the same train of thought. "She went after the principals. Tell me what you know. Where are the five located?"

O'Malley gave Michael the information with ease. He had come to respect his new teammate they had forged a bound of sorts. Uneasy it was, but there none the less.

Stalking off without further word, Michael stopped as he heard his name. "I want to help."

Unbelieving in his sincerity, he had to ask. "Why?"

"Because it's Nikita."

Understanding dawned on both hardened men. She had done the impossible. She could get through to anyone with her mixture of charm, strength and loyalty. She could transcend the barriers ingrained into anyone. A common thread was generated. A common goal in mind. Away they went in search of their lost friend and confidant.

It took then 2 hours, but they were able to establish a trail. Her last known location was Columbia outside of the violent city of Bogota. 6 hours later 2 parachutes dotted the sky as they descended into the silent jungle. They walked in patterns hoping she had the trackers each had placed on her. In circles they went as their minds raced with frustration. A sound of rustling trees would startle those who did not startle. A monkey up in the canopy would be staring down the barrel of a gun as he swung from tree to tree.

Away they went for what seemed like eons. Simultaneously their sensors activated, pointed to their lifeless prey. In the darkness her heart remained with the devil, but two pairs of arms transported her body back to reality. One in love and one in new found friendship.

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

Brilliant light invaded Nikita's consciousness. Scared to death of what it might mean, she carefully and slowly opened her eyes. Tears began to appear and fall down her beautiful cheek, as she acknowledged the sight before her. Brightness and luxurious heat surrounded her immediately warming the recesses of her soul that had been forgotten.

Such beauty lay before her, she sighed knowing there had to be a mistake. Why would she of all people go to heaven? The lives she had taken. The lies she had spoken. The running from God that she had done. Why would he want her now? What was the purpose?

A deep voice broke through to her thoughts. There was something so familiar about it. It touched a cord in her, pulling her toward its timber. Memories enveloped her. Green eyes looking at her with at first tolerance, then with affection.

**Michael. It's Michael what is he saying? ** Straining to listen to the far away sound, she concentrated as if her life depended on it.

"Cherie, wake up Cherie. It's time to come back to us…Please little one…don't leave me." Such desperation in the voice could be heard. She reached forward to find him, but she searched in vain. He was beyond her reach. No longer would he hold her. No longer would he protect her. Sorrow racked her body and mind. For the first time in her short life, she understood absolute loneliness.

"Kita, please…I…I need you …I won't let you leave me…I love you."

Sadness tore at her, she now knew where she was. Hell had its own furry. This was the punishment for her sins. To hear Michael's desperation and pain and not be able to offer comfort. For eternity, he would always be beyond her reach. Longing to be in his arms, she would be a heartbeat away. She was not strong enough and must endure the price for her actions.

Her tears stopped, as they continued in her heart. Her heart would never stop crying. The pain was too great. To love Michael, to be loved by Michael, but to never have their connection was her hell. One she was sure she deserved for her barbaric and unforgivable actions. She resigned herself to her destiny and let the blackness swallow her with a sigh.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"We're losing her. Blood pressure dropped…She's coding…Move I need 20cc's of epinephrine NOW!"

Dr. Dixson shoved Michael out of the way in his haste to get to Nikita. Checking her vitals, he started CPR until the defibrillator was charged. He was not willing to let her go. If anyone deserved to live, this one did. If anyone could make a difference in this place, she could. He acted somewhat selfishly. He wanted beyond all hope for her to have a chance to make her mark on this place called Section One.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"She's resting with the assistance of medication. We will be able to wean her off of them within 48 hours. She was out for so long, that I am not sure what type of damage has been done." Dr. Dixson was briefing all interested parties. He looked from face to face. Leader to Leader to Leader to Brother to Uncle to Lover and Friend. The desperation and hope for the future shone on their faces.

Turning from the depressed group, he left them to their comments.

Moving forward gingerly George, took in the damage that was done. Nikita had almost died, but she had held true to the directives he had given her. He had hoped for her success. He knew that she might not make it in the end, but seeing her personal sacrifice touched George to the core. He carefully took her left hand in hers. With the same words, but with true feeling he repeated the sentiments they experience before entering the Collingsworth estate.

**"For better or worse…"**

** "Hopefully not in death, do we part." **

He slipped the cinnamon diamond ring back on her finger. Kissing her fingertips, he looked at her serene face. "You deserve it…" With that he turned toward the others.

"Please keep me updated of her status." He received glares in return. He was not on any of their well-liked list. They blamed him for the state of Nikita. They didn't see that she made this sacrifice on her own to save them.

Heading for the door, he stopped by Madeline. "One question if I may."

Madeline paused but nodded her head for him to proceed. "You once told Nikita that you would be ready for when she exerted power again. Were you prepared?"

Silence filled the room as Madeline contemplated her response

"No I was not. We were not." She answered honestly.

Fixing her with a searing look, George stepped closer. "I am disappointed in you both. Next time… do better. And trust me there will be a next time with Nikita." George then left Section One for good. He left in his wake a very stunned and emotional group.

"We will." This from Operations as he escorted Madeline out of Medlab.

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

Weeks had passed and Nikita finally regained consciousness. She would not admit to any but Michael, that his words and comfort had guided her back from the unknown. She was even reluctant to admit it to herself. Slowly she began to come to grips with who and what she had become because of George and his mission.

In the end, she had become stronger and learned how much she truly valued the Section as it was. Family ties ran deep, and her loyalty was to their success. She still had her spark and her light, however it was somewhat dimmed. It always would be. You could not experience all that she had without being irrevocably touched.

It was a happy day for the Section when, she finally worked her way and found her heart. Walter had his Sugar back. Birkoff had a sister. Madeline and Operations had their albeit surrogate daughter. Michael had more then he could even anticipate. But most importantly, and unknown to them all, George had regained his pawn.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The day was like another that had come before. The cigar fumes filled the air, as the misty haze hung among the dark woods. George sat in his chair holding his newly acquired treasure. This mission had been different. It has somewhat effected him. But then again, he had received payment for services rendered. But he had received another unexpected benefit. The entertainment of the manipulation had been worth it on its own.

Gazing down at the finalized report, he closed the sleeve on this chapter. It had gone better then expected. All six had passed the test. He wondered if Nikita had figured out the r