Authors Note: This story is the third in a series. The first two are Devil's Whisper and Downward Spiral respectively. I hope you enjoy.

Prologue to Tangled Web

Gentle breezes blow across his delicate wings,
Gliding him through the air.
Aimlessly wandering from flower to flower,
In search of what he not dare.

Off in the distance he sees a flash,
A light as pure as can be.
Changing his course he makes his way,
Toward what can set his heart free.

He focuses on the shimmer of gold,
Beckoning him with each flicker.
Higher he climbs rounding leaves and limbs,
Coming close but never reaching her.

Extinguishing to dark with one last flash,
Her glow fades and finally dies.
She is lost to him amid the trees,
Stolen from him midst the dusky sky.

Faster he goes, racing forward to find
What almost was within his grasp.
Recklessly searching for love's pure light,
He stopped still with a large gasp.

Not flying around the evening night,
His wings were beating no more.
Yet suspended above the earth he was,
Stopped short by strings of gold.

Silken threads caressed his agile body,
Lulling and calming him with each kiss.
Almost forgetting his purpose at hand,
He realized something was amiss.

Delicate and fragile these threads had looked,
Yet with the strength of steel they held.
The more he struggled the tighter the bond,
His body succumbed to this hell.

Turning and twisting he felt the vibrations,
He was stuck in a tangled web.
A complex design with such charming splendor,
Only this beauty led to certain death.

Out of the corner of his tired eyes,
A flash distracts his attention.
It brought him only pain to know,
How close he was to his one devotion.

Then to his surprise, the light moved forward
Toward him she calmly wandered,
Fighting fiercely against his bonds of silk,
He warned her of the hazard.

Still she came to him moving with fluid grace,
Walking into an unknown demise.
As his tears dropped one by one,
He watched his love come nigh.

The wetness dried as the shock set in,
His love was not what he dreamed.
No translucent wings did she have,
Her legs were numerous it seemed.

Her fangs were bared as she smiled her smile,
She looked over at her stunned prey.
Seeing his look of pure confusion,
She enlightened him on her charade.

"See this glorious stomach of mine?"
She asked with innocent pride.
It shines so bright it lures you in,
You are my dinner you fly.

The angel spider came closer yet,
Ready to take a bite.
But seeing his heart laid out in his eyes,
She did what was only right.

"If I let you go my dear,
will you stay awhile?
Stay with me and be with me,
Love me till night dies?"

"Of course I shall be yours tonight,
and ever more as well.
With you I'll stay, with you I'll be,
Tonight will never fell."

A glimmer in his eyes and the laughter in his voice,
That should have been the first of clues.
The cords were severed and the bonds were cut,
Into the night sky he flew.

"Adieu my dear angelic one,"
His goodbye he cried in parting.
"I am the master of this game,"
Deception left her smarting.

Below the moral of this sordid tale,
At least the one I shall foretell.
What a tangled web you weave,
When you strive to deceive.

**********

"Any last words, Nikita?"

Adrian slowly paced about the room that resembled a dungeon. The tapping of her heels mimicked the incessant dripping of water as it fell in the background. Glossy cinderblock walls refracted an eerie fluorescent haze into the darkest corners. This was a room without comforts. It was sparse in its decoration, but utilitarian in its design. The floor was not made with the intricate parquet tiles found in the majority of this complex. Instead its smooth concrete slab sloped down towards a large rusty drain cover.

** drip **

Nikita's body jerked involuntarily as a droplet of warm water landed against her cheek. Looking up, the ceiling sparkled like the night sky. They were not stars or celestial beings unfortunately, only stainless steel glowing in the dim light. You would expect a sprinkler system to protect the inhabitants of this room, but these hung down in wait for a more morbid purpose. If Nikita hadn't heard the screams or watched the torment, she wouldn't have ascertained their true purpose. On command, streams of scalding water would rain down. Exposed flesh would be pummeled by boiling water as it blistered to the bone. This was a room of torture pure and simple. Soon the victim's skin and hair would fall away in layers lying discarded in piles. Blood would seep out of their wounds as they slowly died. The ceaseless river of water would continue to fall until all traces of red liquid had been washed down the drain. This was a place of death...soon to be her death.

** drip **

Nikita had always known that her time would come. Yet, she had pictured it so differently. Intense feelings monopolized these vivid nightmares. Pain, blood, torture... or just a never-ending sleep was what she expected. So was the death of a Section Operative. She hadn't anticipated this emotion of nothingness. Resignation seeped into body and mind dominating sight and sound, blending colors and pulses into a giant emptiness. She did not plead for her life. Tears did not spill from her eyes. She accepted the consequences for her actions, and was prepared to pay the piper. She had no choice. She could not fulfil her mission.

Michael had had two chances to end this for her. One went against the essence of who he was. The other meant he must personally excise his own heart. He had tried. So hard he had tried. The gun had even been raised. The trigger was pulled. The bullet flew passed her and finally embedded in something other than flesh. Tossing her gun away, she knelt before him. She could not proceed. She could not take his life, so she waited for his decision.

** drip **

Fully aware that she had sealed her fate, Nikita selfishly wanted Michael to do the deed. At least he would not make her suffer. He would be precise. He would be merciful. But in the end, even he was not that strong. Kneeling before her, shoulders hung limply and his eyes cradled unshed tears, Michael denied her last request. The unsaid words were no longer needed. The truth was in his eyes. Her heart broke and her soul was dashed. With fleeting touches and soft breaths, deep pain reverberated between them. They would each carry that sweet memory of pain from now on. In truth, that was the last torment she felt. They both knew what each could not do. So they said goodbye for the last time and parted in sweet sorrow. One to go back to the existence he had known sans the light for his darkness. One to walk into her death without any chance of escape.

She understood, and she accepted. She would die so that Michael could live.

** drip **

Adrian's question came back to her with a start. Last words or a last wish, no there could be none now.

"No...Adrian.... I do not."

Stopping before Nikita, Adrian looked at the lovely woman who sat primly in her metal folding chair. This scene was chilling in its finality. Amid the drab and morose room, two beauties resided. One was petite and older. She symbolized life and power in her crimson tailored dress. One was a young spitfire who was starting her second journey into death. The blonde in pristine white waited for the final bell to toll. She had held such promise. If the truth were known, Nikita had broken what was left of Adrian's dusty heart.

Nikita was one who thrived on feelings, emotion and compassion. The woman who sat before her now required none. Her eyes held no sparkle. Her head was raised not in impudence or impatience but in waiting. She appeared to accept her fate. A fate that would come from Adrian's own hands. Many things were tolerated, but even she had her limits. Nikita was far from incompetent. She was far from mental instability. Those were not the crux of the problem. However, she had violated one crucial rule. She had disobeyed a direct order. She had followed her heart.

Years ago, she too had been given a choice. She had confronted the one that was her all. She had felt the pain of indecision and separation. The selection she made had been startling even to her. Taking his life with her bare hands had been the start of her decline. In hindsight, maybe Nikita's choice was the best. How different would her life have been, if she hadn't destroyed the one she lived for. Then again, so many things had shifted with time. Adrian's game and world had been drastically different. The players and rules were bendable. Now, each was made of frailly spun glass. One ounce of pressure, and the whole world shattered as a result.

Sighing in resolution, Adrian knew what she needed to do. She almost envied Nikita of her death. Soon she would leave this world of torture and pain. Her soul would finally be free. Adrian would never be.

"For what it is worth, I am sorry..." Adrian offered, as she brushed a wayward strand off Nikita's forehead. She could have delegated this task to another, but out of respect and admiration she handled it herself.

Adrian skillfully chambered the bullet and moved to Nikita's side. Pressing the gun to her temple, Adrian she waited. Slowly Nikita's eyes drifted shut in capitulation. Her eyelashes dusted her pale cheeks. As seconds passed, deep breathing and perpetual plop of water dropping was all that was heard.

Nikita focused on the face of her guardian angel. The gaze of satisfaction and astonishment after they made love the first time. His silent contemplation of her during countless briefings when he did not think she noticed. But the image that was imbedded in her brain was the look of vulnerability when she told him what she recently became involved in. His face was impassive as ever, but his eyes held fear, concern and worry. That was when she knew. She finally knew what was at stake. In her subconscious, she understood that this would be her last assignment.

** drip...**

With tender thoughts, Nikita said goodbye for the last time. Green eyes saw, green eyes comforted and a single tear fell...The sharp report of a gun sounded.

** bang ... ... ... ...drip **

**********

~~~~ A month earlier ~~~~

He needed to think...

Clearing his mind, Michael let his body melt into the well-worn patio chair. The warm winds tousled his hair and rippled black silky fabric against his skin. Taut flesh reacted as the contracting of his nipples were outlined through his formfitting shirt. The sun was setting, and in a few minutes the moon would takes her place in the sky. It was a comfortable late afternoon with gentle breezes and tepid weather. Children were playing stickball in the neighborhood park. Hamburger patties sizzled on backyard grills. Their succulent smells wafted through the air. But for Michael, warmth and comfort were not options. His head pounded as sharp pains merged behind his eyes. A killer migraine was forming. That alone he was used to, but now he was chilled by fear. He couldn't rid himself of the icy bite that crept into him when Nikita returned.

"Michael, we need to talk."

Taking another sip of wine, Michael pondered those 5 little words and the countless others that followed. Minutes turned into hours as she recounted her events of the last few months. Nikita radiated relief as she confessed to her actions. She appeared to be cleansing her soul. However, each phrase out of her mouth would strike him like a physical blow. His breath would suck in and be released in obvious pain. His bleak eyes and his blank stare focused on her beautiful face. It was not his practiced patented look, but one of sheer terror. The walls moved in slowly with each syllable. His office shrank with each passing second. He felt pinned in. He felt confined. He needed space. He needed air.

Michael's head fell into the plush headrest. This was a no win situation. His mind and good sense told him to run and forget all that he had heard. Proceeding with life as usual, tomorrow morning he would stride into the Section and continue to exist. That was the only life he had. Section approved directives were his aim. He was theirs. They owned his body and mind. He should ignore it all....but he couldn't. If it had been another, the story would be forgotten. But this was Nikita... his Nikita... his soul. She needed him.

He was a driven man these past few months. Through mountainous piles of paperwork, he searched. He tracked her whereabouts with Walter's cutting edge technology. Watching her blip on the screen for hours, he monitored her movements from Istanbul to Cairo to Alaska. Why was she there? He drew a blank. He was at a loss. He was propelled to understand. He kept telling himself he did this so he could protect her. Every day, every hour and with every breath he kept repeating, ** I have to know...I need to know ** It had become his mantra. Now... Now he wanted to take it all back. Not comprehending had been a blessing. Some things were better left undiscovered. Some secrets were better left untold.

He had to think...

He must to come to terms with this. Fear clenched his gut with each thought. This new path led into uncharted waters. The power, people and games at this level were like none he had ever experienced. Nikita swam as predators moved around her in the dark. Their teeth aching to tear at her flesh and draw others with her blood. Hungered for sport, they toyed with her. They manipulated her. She filled the role of whipping post to trophy wife, from hood ornament to unsuspecting lackey. Michael was amazed she survived up to this point. Now with those five little words, she had thrown him in the murky waters. Why? He was only beginning to comprehend the dangers that lie ahead.

He had to think...

There was just too much to take in, and he knew there was more for her to tell.

***********

The tall blonde walked through the doors into Operation's domain. "You wanted to see me?"

Taking a draw from his cigarette, his silver head nodded in response. Closing the file he was reviewing, Marcus swiveled his chair towards Nikita. Depressing the intercom, he called his confidant to his side. "Madeline, my office now."

"Nikita?" Her lovely voice responded with even precision. Lyrical cadence and cool collection fooled all but those who knew her. Underneath the surface, her thoughts tensed and seethed.

"Yes" He cut the transmission and focused on the unique operative. Nikita looked exhausted. Still recovering from her unfortunate accident, the events of the day were taking their toll.

At his silent suggestion, Nikita slid into an open leather chair. Her body protested each movement. Her ribs ached from the soft brush of her shirt. Thoughts jumbled around her mind with no form causing extra energy to be used. She needed rest both mentally and physically, but today's ordeal was far from over. It was time to drop a bomb in their lap, and she refused to miss the fallout. Gathering her whits, Nikita prepared herself for the task. Much too soon, the electronic door swished open and in came Section One's Chief Counsel.

"Proceed" He muttered as stubbed out his cancer stick with controlled violence.

** Proceed. How should she proceed? ** She could only impart on them so much information. She knew their main concern. A certain amount of intelligence was needed for Section One to remain a viable organization. There were some changes they needed to know about.

Sighing in resignation, she decided to let them probe her. It was safer that way. "How much?"

"All of it," was the response from Madeline.

"Madeline, has your security clearance been upgraded since I last checked?" Nikita had confirmed that answer before walking into the lion's den. She waited to see if they would use deception to get what they desired. Personally, all Nikita wanted to see was the look on each face when she denied them access once again. What did they expect? They asked the impossible.

Angered silence spoke volumes.

"I understand your concern. I will give you as much as I feasibly can without endangering Section One..."

Contorted with fury, redness spread from Operations neck as it slowly worked its way up his face. Barely restraining himself, he interrupted. "WE decide what is best for Section One not you."

"Wrong. YOU run Section One to the best of your ability WITH the information you are provided."

Silence once again. Only the buzz of the overhead lights distracted from the unease. Neither appreciated Nikita's reminder. Neither wanted to admit she was right. If looks could kill, both gave glares of death. If only looks could kill...

Finally finding speach once more, Madeline stepped up to the plate. "We monitor and lead Section One so that the greater good can be achieved. However, we do not get Agency information or directives from you. That will be all."

"That was then. This is now. I am under different orders."

Clearing his throat after choking on his coffee, Operations chuckled lightly. "Need I remind you that where you are concerned, we don't need George's help or approval? You belong first and foremost to Section"

Grinning right back into two soon to be stunned faces, Nikita continued. "Times change and so do policies. George's role and my involvement with Section One has been altered. If something happens to be me, you answer to 'Adrian'."

"She is irrelevant in this scenario. Nikita, I would watch where you tread. There are some things, even the Agency can not stop." Madeline was getting frustrated. Nikita had changed so much. She no longer cowered before them like a scared puppy at the hint of cancellation. Nikita just sat physically exhausted, but the enjoyment Madeline saw in her eyes gave pause. There was more to come.

The aching of Nikita's body finally sapped what was left of Nikita's reserve. She was tired of playing games. She had to get this over before she fell at their feet. Sighing, she proceeded. "Enough, I have other pressing issues to deal with. George has been relieved of duty. His recent actions have been called into question. Madame Adrian has stepped into his roll as Agency liaison and leader. Section One now reports directly to her."

Even in her tired state, Nikita found joy in the blank expressions of her once leaders. The rug had been pulled from their feet, and they tried to regain their balance without letting any see their shock.

Standing abruptly, Operations lit another cigarette and started to pace. Back and forth....back and forth. No one spoke for what seemed like hours, but only a few minutes passed as Madeline drummed her finger against her chin. This development was unexpected. Nikita was silent as she took in the situation. She was letting them come to terms with her announcement.

"What about you Nikita? Where do you fit into this?"

"The same as before, Marcus. I am yours until she calls. Then I do her bidding. All of my missions for Adrian are on a need to know basis, and only Adrian can grant you that right. If the situation calls for it, I have the authority to commandeer any Section resource for my use. That includes operatives, weaponry, equipment and data. If you are opposed to my actions, please let me know the reasons and I will make the call in accordance with what is best."

Shifting in her chair, Madeline caught Marcus' eye. She may have found a way out. "The only way for this to work is that when you are ours, you will NOT question our authority."

"Agreed. I reserve the right to ask for clarification, but I see your point. I will follow your directions and guidance. The only difference is that you can not cancel me without Adrian's approval."

Operations pacing slowed and he finally found his seat again. "You will understand our need to verify the validity of all that you have told us."

Pulling out a slip of paper, Nikita slid it across his desk. "This is Adrian's number. She is expecting your call. Will that be all?"

"Yes."

Nikita slowly stood and suppressed a shiver of pain from her ribs. Turning, she left behind two shaken individuals who wondered where this Nikita had come from. Before the door slid shut, Operations called her one last time.

"What about O'Malley?"

Locking her knees so that they would not collapse underneath her, Nikita turned swiftly and glared into his gray eyes. "That is need to know Marcus. I will give you what I can in the morning."

The door slid shut and the room returned to the Lion and his Lioness. If only looks could kill...

***********

Pounding her pillow with her fist, Nikita tried to drift off to sleep. It was useless. Flipping the fluffy object over so that the cold side was against her skin, she tried again. ** Ugh ** Her inadvertent fall off the section bunk had slammed her into the waking world with no chance of returning. Last night, Nikita had barely made it to her quarters without passing out. Now she wished she had been strong enough to make it home. Home was her last refuge. It was where she felt comfortable, where she felt safe. Safety was only an illusion of her mind. But that illusion was her only lifeline to sanity at times like this.

4:30am. The bright red numbers flashed. Turning on her side, she hid her face. But the light reflected it's scarlet haze off the walls. 4:31...4:32. ** That's it! ** Throwing a blanket over the annoying device, she waited. Her efforts only created a furry glowing object you'd expect to see in Star Trek. Listening carefully, Nikita lay still. Nope, no purring. She was safe. Why was this happening today of all days? Yesterday had sapped her emotionally and physically. She wanted to drift off in her dreams and hide. For once she could waste the morning away in bed, but as usual her body had different plans. Closing her eyes again, she cursed. No luck. She was up, and she was going to stay up regardless. Her rest had barely rejuvenated her body, but it hadn't even come close to calming her mind. That was the problem. Her stomach churned and twisted with her thoughts. Things weren't settled. Until they were, sleep would continue to elude her.

There was enough light to differentiate solid objects from imagination. Her desk, dresser, TV stand and computer lined the tiny room like sentinels. Each stayed in their specific place guarding for night demons. Or was it the other way around? Were they watching her every move and desire? After she redecorated her apartment, Nikita revamped her quarters as well. Gone were the rebelling images. Gone were the signs of uniqueness. Her quarters became as all others, no real trace of personality. It was just a room to be used when necessary. A part of her had become like this barren place, and it scared her. All signs of passion and life were drifting away into oblivion. At times she couldn't remember the old Nikita. The Nikita who fought for the lives Section deemed acceptable collateral. She once braved cancellation with every utterance. She once trusted in the face of manipulation. Now she manipulated in the face of trust. What happened to her? What had she turned into? Had the sledgehammer of change wrecked the essence of who she was in the process?

An hour and a half later Nikita gazed out the window of a tiny coffee shop. Intermittently a car would race by or a person would meander on the sidewalk. Nikita marveled at the differences in the unknown others. When she was on the streets, she would sit for hours and create pasts, presents and futures for those who past by. Falling back into her old game, Nikita lost herself in imagination. ** That one. Well she grew up in the Hamptons, silver spoon and all.... He just sold his girlfriend for a few measly bucks... The little girl was lost and cold, but soon she would find shelter...she could hope ** The game continued. Her once steaming herbal tea was lukewarm when one caught her perusal. Wavy auburn hair blew in the chilly wind. Black clothes clad the body that held a purposeful stride. That could only mean one thing....Michael.

He didn't see her. But in turn, she watched him. His hair unkempt as the short curls blew in the wind. His lack of sleep showed. The vulnerability and what it signified struck her. Gone was his aura of calm. Gone was his demeanor of togetherness. To see him like this tore at Nikita's tattered soul. She was the cause, and it was only going to get worse. Much more was to come. Could she really pull this off? Was she strong enough? Could she continue to cause him pain? She had no choice. She needed him.

Michael was apparently a regular. Steaming coffee was poured the minute he walked in the door. Quietly he paid the tab and turned. Catching her gaze he stopped dead in his tracks.

Blue eyes caught green. She silently pleaded for his attention. They had to talk. Appealing for his support, only a pained blank stare was returned. Misty green spoke of his heart. The soundless words pummeled Nikita. Her mouth moved to explain. He must understand. She had no choice. She needed him to comprehend, oh how she just needed him. Moving to stand, Nikita fell back into her chair with a shake of his head. Michael's pain turned to anger and bewilderment. Turning on his heals, he departed into the chilly morning air.

Salty tears fell down alabaster cheeks as they dripped into her ceramic mug. Through bleary eyes, she watched him walk away. He had left her. She finally revealed who she had become and he couldn't take it. It was as she feared.

The quaint coffeehouse soon became claustrophobic. Too many could see the torment on her face. Needing to suffer alone, she left. The wind dried her tears leaving salty streaks on her skin. Walking down the alley toward her car, it became too much. The brick wall scratched her skin as she slid down it. The cold asphalt shinned with her golden hair as Nikita curled into a fetal position. Liquid poured down her face in rivers as her body quaked with horrendous sobs. He was gone.

It took Michael everything he had to not go to her. As she alighted from the storefront, he had watched. Her stiff gait and ramrod spine gave away her emotions. Once again he had hurt her. As usual he alone made her suffer. But really, what did she expect? He needed time to assimilate all she had said. Following at a discrete distance, he appeased his conscious by watching at arms length. He would just see her to her car. Rounding the corner she had turned, he was soon greeted with a sight that clenched his heart and dashed his soul. She lay prone on the filthy ground. The sounds of her anguish ricocheted in his ears as her silky hair mixed with pools of dirty oil and water. Still he stayed away. He couldn't go any further. She needed him, and he couldn't be there for her right now. His psyche was in shambles. They would talk later.

Soon it became more then he could take. Knowing the sound of one more sob would change his resolve, Michael turned and left.

The chill in the air deepened for both. The coldness seeped into their limbs and more importantly their emotions. One heard her cries in every breeze as he walked away. One's body shook with each breath as she laid her soul bare in a deserted alley.

***********

** Could this day get any worse? **

After Nikita's emotional breakdown, she started pulling together what was left of her sanity. Awareness of her location came with a start as her hand scraped brutally across the rough surface of her makeshift bed. Getting up off the trash and slime, she ignored the filth and grit that clung to her clothes. Limp against her cheeks and back, Oily brown sludge mixed with her tears and clumped her bright hair together. Her appearance did not give her pause. It was beyond her comprehension.

**Stop it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.** Stiffening as another onslaught of tears threatened to fall, Nikita chided herself on her weakness. She had let him in, and what was there revolted him. Plain and simple, she disgusted him. Being thrown away was something she was used to. First tossed aside by her mother and then by Section One. This time however, it tore viciously at her soul.

Starting her trek home, Nikita spotted her car. The sight of the sleek black machine drew more moisture from her eyes. It was a long walk to her apartment. Yet to step foot into that car, would signify her giving in. Painfully, the shiny metal and start of the art design reminded her of her tormentor... the one who abandoned her. She couldn't stop as liquid left clean tracks on her dirty skin. Her heart had not yet hardened. The ache was too strong. Given time she knew her outward expression of emotions would be no more. Soon the oblivion would overtake her. Until then, the pain would become her constant companion. Leaving her transportation behind, Nikita continued on.

Putting one foot in front of another, she plodded along oblivious to the stares she was attracting. Madeline would be aghast. It had taken her 4 years of careful tending and pruning to turn Nikita into the elegant yet resourceful operative. Now in a matter of minutes, she had reverted back to her old ways. Thanks to her wallowing in the alley, Nikita smelled and looked of the streets. But it was the glaze of hardness and pain in her eyes that spoke the true story. She was walking alone again for the first time in years. Even when she was on the run for those six months, she never felt this detached.... or this abandoned. He had always been in the back of her mind. His sacrifice and gift of freedom continuously in her thoughts. From the first greeting in the white room, green eyes melded with blue and they were inexplicably bound. They were a part of each other up to the second he walked away. He had been her strength and protector. Ranting and raving about nothing and everything, he would listen to her for hours. Ever present behind the desk or over her shoulder in the field, their connection was strong. Supporting her with a look or a sigh, he had always been there. Now...she was alone.

Opening the door, the cool air of her apartment rushed over her abused face soothing the salty skin. She was finally here, the one place she could call her own. The surroundings were a balm to her senses. Bright morning light filtered in through the sheer wisps of fabric that covered her windows. Highlighting the sparse and eclectic décor, the soft glow created warmth that Nikita recognized as home. Turning her head, her gave drifted over the smooth surfaces of countertop, wood and glass. Her resolved shattered once more as her eyes focused on a tall vanilla candle. It had been Michael's emotional catalyst when he finally shared a portion of his soul.

Wiping furiously at her cheeks, Nikita physical state came crashing to the forefront. Stripping herself of the offensive clothing, her intake of breath was harsh as the first spray of hot water engulfed her. For hours, she scrubbed the smell and feel of the streets off her flesh and hair. Each swipe of the course cloth washed away her mental instability. When she emerged from her steamy tomb, she was ready to face the day. Her weak self was left to disperse with the shower's mist. This was a new Nikita. A Nikita who still had a job to do. Her mission would not change just because of her emotional attachment to the target. She just needed a different route. In the end, the results would be the same.

Picking up her secondary cell phone, she dialed.

"It's me. Can we meet? I need your help."

She waited as he picked the location and time.

"Yes... perfect. See you then. Oh and O'Malley...come alone."

***********

Standing in front of the Degas exhibit, Nikita tried to portray an aura of dejected censure as she absently critiqued one of his finest works. Bright blues and vibrant oranges blended on the cloth canvas that was hung for all to admire and see. Decorating the floor of the Art Museum, Italian marble tiles softly echoed each shuffled step of other patrons. Hung from every wall, masterpieces of brilliant artists decorated the gigantic hall. But even amid such beauty and grace, Nikita was growing increasingly restless. Artistry was not the reason she was here. Glancing at her watch for the third time in as many minutes, she waited impatiently for him to arrive.

The weight of a hand being placed on her shoulder startled Nikita. Even though she anticipated his presence, his quiet movement took her by surprise. Composing her nerves once again, she snapped. "You're late."

"Miss me?" Her date moved in to place a gentle kiss upon her proffered cheek. Running a strand of golden hair back and forth across his fingertips, O'Malley looked like a man reunited with his love.

"Hardly." Pulling back from his reach, Nikita broke contact with his body. This was not a time for chitchat or friendly gestures. Thanks to his tardiness, their meeting would have to be cut short. "I don't have much time."

"What no hugs, no kisses? Careful, I might think you're using me." He chuckled trying to get into her good graces once again. The statuesque blonde looked beautiful as usual, but something was askew. He couldn't quite place the problem until he looked into her eyes. Azure depths no longer held warmth, but more of an icy chill. Something was incredibly wrong.

Sighing at his overly flirtatious behavior, Nikita tried steering the conversation back on track before all their time was wasted. "Jerrod....I am not in the mood for this. I need your help."

"What's going on princess? Trouble on the home front?" Yet again, he tried to impart humor. He knew it was serious enough for her to contact him, but he had never seen her this removed yet impassioned. He instinctively took the challenge presented before him.

"O'Malley...are you going to help me willingly or am I going to have to call in Adrian to ensure your support?"

She spoke 'the name'. It had to grave if she invoked that response so quickly. He raised his eyebrows in retort. "Whoa, no need to call in the big guns. Just ask mister magic man. I'll make sure you receive. What's up?"

Mindlessly walking toward a large picture window, Nikita stared off into space. Her focus was not on the luscious green grounds and tailored gardens, but on the hazy mist of her mind. Barely above a whisper, she answered. "It's Michael."

His stomach clenched as soon as the name was released from her lips. It was the last thing he wanted to hear, but the only one that would explain her odd behavior. The lyrical sound of each syllable pained him as if salt was being rubbed into an open wound. That one owned her heart, the heart O'Malley dreamed was his. Subconsciously he fought back and regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, "What's wrong with Boy Wonder now? The evil stepmother won't let him see the princess?"

Growling in rage, Nikita deftly grabbed him by the lapels. Throwing him against the wall so hard his head snapped. Her once calm voice radiated tension. "Knock it off!"

Stepping over the line, he had gone to far. It was so hard to control his reactions when it came to Nikita. A part of him belonged to her, even though she never took it. Friendship was all that was offered, and for that he was grateful...yet he could still dream. "Ok Jeez, what has Michael done now?"

"We no longer see eye to eye. It's complicated." Straightening his jacket, Nikita absently brushed imaginary lint fuzz from the dark material. The far away look of desolation returned to her eyes.

"Why? You two are so close. What happened?" Did he dare hope? One look told him the answer, she still belonged to Michael heart and soul. It was not her decision that caused this rift.

"He found out who I really was, and didn't like what he saw. It's over."

Stunned, he couldn't picture anything that the blonde would say or do which would justify Michael's reaction. O'Malley had looked down the gaze of green fire in the past. Michael would never turn away from her. She was his lifeline. He had too much love and devotion for the one who owned his heart. He felt the need to protect, not to abandon over night.

"So you want me to do what? Make him jealous? I don't think that will work little one. We didn't even get a rise out of him when he saw the evidence of us in bed together." Section One's top operative was a cool customer. In the past, those who had provoked him rarely lived to see another day. Playing this game she requested could mean certain death. Yet she asked. How could he deny the one he would do anything for?

Walking to the next artistic masterpiece, O'Malley contemplated the situation. This scenario just didn't fit. The risks are too great. There was more, there had to be more. "You wouldn't go to this length just for that. What aren't you telling me?"

"Adrian wants Michael on the Council. It's my job to get him there." She sighed.

Michael was Section's golden boy, his allegiance to the organization was well known throughout the community. He believed in the overall purpose, and the good that it did. He wouldn't forsake the cause easily. Staying on the ship until the water engulfed its bow was more his style. Closer to the point, Michael viewed his life in Section One as penance for his past crimes against humanity. A penance he suffered in silence. "He won't go willingly. He's too loyal."

O'Malley wasn't telling her anything she hadn't told herself. A few days ago, she might have had a chance. Recent events had dashed her hopes. However in the back of her mind, Nikita knew the consequences of failure. She would not fail. "I know...and the one advantage I had was taken away. There has to be another angle."

"I think you're selling yourself short. Michael still cares about you." Could Nikita be that dense? Did she not know the power she had over those around her, Michael especially?

Nikita's mind transported her back to the coffeehouse. The look he gave as he turned and left her was imbedded in her memory. His face seemed full of disgust and remorse. Her hardened heart clenched once more as agony crept into the shadows of her soul. Tepid blue iced over, and tears threatened to fall once more. Barely audible she spoke the truth she believed. "No....he doesn't."

Blonde tresses moved side to side as O'Malley shook his head. No matter what she truly believed, he didn't agree with her logic. Knowing this encounter was a loosing battle, O'Malley gave up. "He would be a fool not too. But his loss is my gain."

Whipping around, Nikita stood toe to toe and nose to nose with him. Her sultry voice transformed from soft melody to staccato shortness. Her finger pressed into his chest as it accented each word. "All I want from you is your help. Understand."

** Fascinating...from ice to fire in seconds ** He couldn't help but be enthralled. "Crystal....we'll find another way."

"I owe you"

Grinning, he reminded her that favors do not come cheap. Everything has a cost. "I know....but can you afford the price when I decide to collect?"

"Considering the alternative, whatever you request will be fine." Nikita didn't particularly like where this was leading, but she was desperate. His price would be steep, but then again Michael's life was without measure. She would give her body and soul to see him safe. She was just afraid that was exactly what O'Malley would ask for. Her body...and then her soul....

Minutes past as both contemplated what had transpired. An agreement was reached, but the outcome was still questionable. Silently they moved through the large room admiring the stunning view. As they prepared to depart, Nikita remembered Operations' last comment. "We may have another problem."

"What?" Stopping, O'Malley waited for her explanation.

"Section One wants you"

A burst of laughter floaded out before he could swallow it down. "When haven't they? But in this case, that might be useful."

***********

The buzzing of her pager was the invitation. Reminder after reminder vibrated her slender hip until Madeline finally switched her attention to the annoying electronic device. Due to the short notice and urgent request, she was forced to rush the current interrogation sequence. Her newest guest was subsequently thrown headlong into questioning without her excruciatingly detailed preparation. Escalating the inquisition scenario had achieved the desired result, but the hurried method had been risky. There was an exact science to her techniques. Too much pressure or adaptation and the information could be lost because of physical degradation. Not enough and the average run of the mill detainee could withhold vital information. As she hurried towards her chamber with concern, Madeline hastily wiped the last spot of blood from her hands. Only an event of disastrous proportions would cause her to be summoned from her dealings in the dungeon. As the electronic door swooshed open her worry immediately turned into another intense emotion.

Arriving at the meeting a tad late, Madeline quietly took the only available seat. Surprise and anger registered on her face momentarily as she watched Nikita sitting comfortably behind her desk. Blonde hair wrapped in an elegant French twist. Her lithe form clad in a sedate business suit. If it was not widely known, most would assume this was her rightful domain. Yet for now, it was not. Nikita was back at the helm portraying confidence and power with each subtle movement of her eyes and body. She had commandeered this office at a moment's notice. Nikita had taken control once more. With detachment she had developed over the years, Madeline restrained from demanding the respect that she deserved from this subordinate operative.

Once again in the position to impart information, the troublesome operative waited until she had the full attention of Section One's figure head and chief counselor.

"Yesterday, you requested intelligence on a red cell operative named Jerrod O'Malley." Leaning forward on her temporary desk, Nikita crossed her fingers in front of her.

Jumping at the opportunity he was waiting for, Operations interest perked. "Are you ready to deliver him?"

"Not yet, but I have stumbled across some information that could prove quite useful." Instantly the overhead lights flicked off. A blue hologram screen showing the attractive face of the Red Cell henchman popped up in front of them. Refracting off the miniature glass encased atrium, a palpable haze enlightened the corners of this spacious office.

Giving Marcus and Madeline time to review the information on the screen, Nikita in turn analyzed both of their reactions. Even though she was new to this observation game, Nikita's innate talents served her well. There he sat, the leader of Section One. In his own way, Marcus reflected the joy of a child impatiently waiting for Christmas morn. The anticipation and satisfaction for revenge was evident. Nikita could tell the second he read her little surprise. His eyes widened at the thought, but narrowed as he contemplated the last annotation. Torn between what he wanted and what the scenario presented, he grudgingly accepted the compromise. He was getting something out of this, but not all he desired. O'Malley would still remain free.

Turning her focus to Madeline, Nikita met her match. Stoic as always, Madeline was tough to read. Nikita was sure she saw interest in her eyes, but it was quickly covered up with a mask of indifference. That fraction of reaction was enough to inform Nikita that her goal had been achieved. Grinning slightly, Nikita knew they were hooked. Madeline wasn't as disappointed by the layout as Marcus. With a few more bodies to test her skill, she would at least have some sick enjoyment. The information potential was staggering. O'Malley may not be included, but the trade off was unexpectedly beneficial.

"We have heard rumblings of this happening, but our intel was always delayed."

Nodding in agreement, Nikita broke down the mission profile. "The transaction is to take place in 72 hours. I have forwarded you my recommended team assignments and requirements. We can utilize our operatives in Barcelona as backup, but the primary team will be from here."

Quickly reviewing the information, both of her subjects gave their assent. This was well thought out and planned. "Schedule a briefing for tomorrow am. Have Arlis and Manuel attend from Spain via Teleconference. But I do have one question, Nikita."

"Yes?"

Operations stilled her with his penetrating gaze. "Why isn't O'Malley a part of this? Our objective is to acquire him as well."

"He is presence is vital to a current Agency mission. I can not yet obtain him without causing serious ramifications. In time he will be delivered into our hands." Standing Nikita quickly sauntered out of the room before any other questions could be asked. They took her at her word for now, but she was sure that would not last. In parting she stopped and unexpectedly whispered her thanks.

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

As was her custom, Nikita checked her email before departing the Section for the night. The flashing icon notifying of incoming mail drew her attention. A shrill electronic warning sounded as she opened the electronic message. The source was untraceable. The contents were unknown. Taking a deep breath, she launched the large video attachment. What she saw clenched her stomach. There was no doubt in her mind as to who sent it. It was cruel reminder of what was at stake if she failed.

Deleting the offensive file, Nikita headed home. She tried to get the image out of her head, but the sight of Michael through the cross hairs of a sniper's rifle chilled her to the bone.

Picking up her cell phone, Nikita dialed a number. A number she now knew by heart.

"72 hours... It's a go... Yes, tomorrow night will be fine. Are you sure there isn't any other way? Maybe after the mission?... No I understand.... I always keep my promises... I'll be there... Get some rest O'Malley.... You're going to need it."

A she terminated the call, a single tear fell down Nikita's face. The night sky was as dark as her mood. Not a single star shimmered in the distance. Ominously, Nikita let the heavy evening air drift over her as she prepared for what the next day had in store. Over and over her mind repeated her justification. If only she could fully believe.

** It's worth it. It has to be done. There is no other way. **

Her heart filled with sadness and rage. She would give up a part of herself, but in return Michael would be safe. There was no other option. It had to be done.

***********

Unexpectedly, Nikita's body became exceedingly tense and warm. Pulling long blonde strands away from her neck, she arched her back trying to diffuse the fiery heat that seems to radiate from every pore. Each nerve, hair and inch of her flesh hummed it's own sweet tune. Groaning, all she wished for was a cool bath to take away the combustible tingling sensation.

** Please no...Not now...I can't get sick now **

Glancing at her companion, Nikita pleaded with her azure eyes. "Jerrod, something is wrong. I feel..."

Taking her beer bottle away, O'Malley lightly ran his fingers across her forehead. Nikita's body shivered in response to his touch. It set her body in motion. Her mind wanted her to pull away, but all she could do was lean into his addictive touch. "Shhhh little one. The feeling will pass."

Nikita's senses were numbed, but some clarity could still be found in the deep recesses. "What....why....you didn't need to..."

Jerrod sneered as he explained his demented logic. "Oh but I did. You came to me out of duty, out of the love for another. I can't have you just lie there underneath me as I claim my prize. I want you to melt in my arms both body and soul."

"But....why? What ever....it...was...made me sick." She spit out as he gently scooted her body closer to his. The touch of his hard muscular frame against hers caused her breath to catch.

"Ah Nikita...my beautiful Nikita. What you feel is the beginning of true passion. The only release from the warmth and tenderness you are experiencing is sexual release. The more you fight it, the more intense it will become. Only when you convulse in my arms will clarity return."

"So only one time...and this will be over?" Rubbing her hand over his arm, she marveled at the sensitivity of her fingertips. His velvety flesh was so inviting. She had never felt skin so enticing.

"Oh no...your level headedness will be short lived. Desire will return 20 fold, and you will be screaming in pleasure as the night progresses." The enticing picture she presented was almost his downfall. O'Malley had to refrain from ripping at her clothes and bringing her to release right there on the steps of his porch.

Mentally she tried to pull away as tears ran down her face. Were they tears of sorrow, or tears of pleasurable tension? She did not know. In her mind, she knew she had to run. Her body however was protesting as his warm breath nipped at the delicate flesh of her ear. She needed him. Her physical needs betrayed her heart. The struggle was immense...it was primal.

Lifting her lithe form into his arms, O'Malley started his trek to the bedroom. Nikita vigorously squirmed against him with each step he took. "Stop it...I will let you down in a minute."

"No, too hot." Nikita had to remove her clothing. The constricting fabric rubbed against her flushed skin with erotic movements. She felt every fiber, every tiny stitch as it tantalized her flesh relentlessly.

Dropping her to her feet inside his bedroom door, Jerrod watched in amazement as she tore at her shirt and jeans. Ripping the cotton in her haste, Nikita only stopped when all that was touching her tender skin was the cool evening air. Realization came back to Nikita when she bumped into his bare flesh behind her. Jerking away, she hurried to retrieve the top sheet from the bed. As she wrapped the blue silk material around her body, a cry of pleasure wrenched from her mouth. Her nipples hardened to points as her flesh contract sharply at the contact. Her body quivered with a cursory release caused by the satiny friction.

Flinging the material aside, Nikita's last concern was her nudity. She had to get control. "You bastard. I came here to fulfill my half of the bargain. You didn't need to do....this... I came here willingly."

Gripping her shoulders, Jerrod dragged her body across his. Flesh against flesh. Skin against skin. "You came here to save Michael. But I have wanted you for too long to let you silently suffer in my bed. Tonight you are mine. Tonight you will beg for me...for me alone."

Leaning in closer, her body betrayed her once more. Her mind and soul fighting viciously but losing the battle as the drug continued to effect her. "No. You can have my body, but I will never be yours. I will never beg. He owns my soul. Don't you understand?"

Shaking, O'Malley lowered his mouth onto hers. Plundering her softness, his tongue stroked hers into movement. Soon she was nipping at his mouth silently begging for increased pressure. "You may be his for all eternity. But tonight you are mine. Tonight it is my name you will cry in release. Tonight my body will be in yours. It will be my flesh you convulse around."

Each word heightened Nikita's arousal. The tension became unbearable. Her loins burned with need and dripped with desire. All she could think about of being filled a slow inch at a time. In her dazed mind, all she could see was his body wrapped around hers. All she wanted to feel was him...

O'Malley felt Nikita's body vibrate. She was on the edge. One touch would set her off. It would be a long night, but he needed to be in her as she soared for the first time. Leading her to the bed, he lowered her onto the luxurious mattress. As she opened her eyes, all he could see was an expanse of azure. Her eyes flowed onto the sheets. Their colors mixing together in his mind. This was what he dreamed. This was his fantasy. Slowly rotating his hips, he sheathed himself into her. Her silky hot passage engulfed all that he had to give. Her tightness was accentuated as she released her dam of pleasure. Each movement and friction from his hard flesh called her body like a siren's song. Spasms shook her as he quickened his pace. Soon he joined her in quivering with one last thrust.

*******

The air hung heavy with the scent and taste of sex. Glancing at the exhausted blonde angel who lay sprawled on his bed, Jerrod felt the sting of tears for the first time in years. She had taken him to sexual heights he had never reached. True to his word, Nikita had begged...had pleaded...had cried...and had even thrown him down so that she could ride him to her hearts content. She was so sensitive, that the warmth from his breath on her nipples could set off another earth shattering orgasm. Switching from lips to hands, from tongue to cock, Jerrod had tried to pace himself. But she had been insatiable.

Yet he knew when the morning came and the drug wore off, she would never trust him again. He could see the pain deep in her dazed eyes. Each thrust, each lick, each nip took a part of her away. Her violent releases threw her into tears partially from the joy of release, but mostly from the pain of sorrow. Her sighs excited him. Sometime during the night, she had begged for him to take her. Once she remembered that, her soul would be torn beyond compare.

Knowing he had ruined all they had between them, O'Malley felt his own heart rip. The pain she would feel would be his fault. Wiping way the tracks of liquid from his cheeks, he leaned over and flicked off the miniature microphone. Pulling Nikita into his arms, he cuddled her close in protection. He hoped one day she would realize he had no choice. In his own way he was protecting her. Just like her, he had orders. Just like with her, the consequences of failure were staggering. Turning off the last of the surveillance, Jerrod held her for the rest of the night. He didn't keep her close because he was ordered to. He did it in memory of the friendship he ruined. He did it for himself. For as soon as the first signs of dawn decorated the sky, things would never be the same.

***********

The bright light of early morning filtered into the rumpled bedroom. Falling on her eyelids, the warmth pulled Nikita out of exhausted sleep. With a foot in dream world and a toe in reality, she registered being held within the confines of a comfortable embrace. Pushing back against his chest, she forced her skin to meld into his.

** Ah Michael **

Rubbing her ass against his awakening flesh, Nikita relished in the beauty and serenity of early mornings with the man she loved. Eyes still closed against all sight, she turned carefully within his arms. Pressing her bruised lips against his neck, her tongue leisurely branded a trail across his jaw finally reaching his unsuspecting mouth. Nibbling on his lower lip, she knew the exact moment he was pulled from sleep. A sharp intake of breath opened his mouth for her waiting tongue. The increasing size of him against her thigh told of morning pleasures yet to come.

An unexpected voice threw her eyes open. It was not to voice from her dreams. It was the voice from her nightmares. "Nikita..."

Staring in disbelief, she looked at the silky blonde hair interwoven with her fingers. ** No that's not right. What? ** Shifting to the side, she slowly drew back. Soon the blurry image became clear. Shock registered immediately. "No..."

"Nikita...I'm sorry...I..." He lost all words. It was too late to apologize.

Visions of last night rushed threw her confused brain. Each image... each touch...each remembrance churned her stomach as her heart dropped.

~~ Uncontrolled desires...his body slamming into hers...her cry of pleasure shaking the double pane windows. ** a single tear fell **

~~ Warm lips and deft tongue taunting and tasting her aroused flesh. Her juices spread over his face. Tasting herself when she kissed him. ** a sob came from her lips **

~~ Pushing him down.... No... throwing him down on the bed. Climbing on top of his erect shaft...riding him...convulsing and convulsing until he pulled her off of his drained body ** icy shivers began **

~~ The sound.... weak at first... stronger it got...her voice pleading...asking...begging for him....for O'Malley...to take her ** a heart shattered **

Filled with repulsion, claws and fists fought against the demon of her recent hell. Bile quickly rose in her throat, but her anger held it at bay. Knowing this was nothing more then he deserved, Jerrod lay still taking each blow. He wished that this outburst would be all that was needed to heal the pain he had inflicted...But he knew better...

Stilling out of exhaustion continuous tears poured down her face. Looking deep into his eyes, she knew part of her torment was reserved for herself. She came to him with one purpose. She gave him her body for a reason. Never had she anticipated his deception...his horrid act.... But being in his arms was her doing. That is what rendered her soul. She was her own enemy.

** What have I done? **

Calmed, Nikita's mask rushed into place. Leaving Jerrod's bed, she collected her things. Pulling the rough fabric of her jeans across her tender legs, she inadvertently groaned. Her modesty was nonexistent. Picking up several strips of rendered material, her white blouse was unrecognizable. Tossing it aside in disgust, she rummaged through his dresser oblivious of his naked form a few feet away. Clad in a black T-shirt, she made her way to the door.

Stopping, she turned her mask of indifference toward him. Her eyes glazed over with numbness "Has my debt been satisfactorily paid?"

Shocked at her lack of emotion, it took a while for O'Malley to register she was speaking. "Uh... Yes.... and then some."

"Good. Your services had better be worth it."

Rushing to his knees, Jerrod called to her before she left. "Nikita let me explain."

Chilled by her gaze, the only emotion he saw was simmering hatred and self-loathing. With calculated slowness, she responded. "All I want to hear from you is...sequence complete. This was just a job. Is that clear?"

She was halfway to the front door before his quiet and despondent voice echoed back its answer. "Crystal.... I'm so sorry."

Berating herself with every movement, Nikita's measured step led her towards home. Once again she was broken. Once again abandonment filled her heart. Michael had left her...Jerrod had used her.... But the betrayal she felt was focused on her own soul. She was losing pieces of herself as the days progressed. Would there be anything left of the old Nikita when this mission was over?

Finally the hot spray of the shower engulfed her. Like another moment not so long ago, she scrubbed herself until her skin was raw. This time it was to remove the evidence of another's presence. Collapsing against the tiled wall, she let the gentle Nikita come out. Tending to her emotional wounds, it was hours before she emerged ready to face the insurmountable tasks that lay ahead.

***********

Absently walking into the conference room, Michael caught himself just before sitting down on an already occupied chair. Looking into deep blue depths, he registered a hint of amusement at his unusual lack of concentration. Quickly grabbing another seat, Michael cast a brief look in her direction. What was she doing in his chair? Despite the emptiness of the room, Nikita sat in silent contemplation as she studied her hands. Other then a slight incline of her head upon his arrival, she calmly ignored him.

Michael's mind churned round and round. It was more then he could take. For the past two days, her confession tumbled in his thoughts. Astonishing..Shocking and downright Scary. So many lives had been lost needlessly. Friends, coworkers and innocents were just pawns to be played on the big chessboard known as the Agency. With the end of the cold war, the powers that be feared their loss of control and funding. It was greed, plan and simple greed that now terrorized the world. Children were massacred in cold blood. Their cries echoed a song that only George and now Adrian heard as sweet. Toxins were developed to destroy the so-called enemy, an enemy that was a demented sibling in this dysfunctional family. Bombs rained down destruction sadistically cleaning house with the human race cast as dust bunnies. Civilization was the stage for the select few who directed the action. It was too much. All he had come to accept as truth was a façade.

Understanding the trouble this information would cause, Nikita had given him time for it all to sink in. The reckoning had arrived last night. Questions nagged at his soul and heart. What was unknown could destroy the life he had come to grudgingly accept. It could shatter the world of those he cared about. His heart could be stripped from his grasp in a flash. That was unacceptable. There had to be more. She was holding something back, and for the life of him he couldn't figure it out.

Arriving at her apartment, Michael made an effort of reconciliation. The hours ticked by slowly as he waited for her return. The sight of her curled on the solid ground still was with him. The sounds of her torment filled his heart. The need to see her was so great that he passed the night on her patio lawn chair. Finally succumbing into uneasy sleep, the gentle evening turned into a brilliant dawn. Michael only stirred from his slumber when the slamming of her front door shook the whole apartment.

Watching from a distance, he considered her. Within her palms, she held his soul. The anguish and deliberation on her face was evident through the sheerness of her blinds. He could only guess of her whereabouts the night before. But if the look on her features held credence, it had not been a pleasurable experience. Trailing behind her within the shadows, Michael was hard pressed to suppress his sharp intake of breath. Baring her back as she undressed, Nikita inadvertently exposed her pleasure marked body for Michael's perusal. Fingernail marks mingled with bite bruises on her alabaster flesh. Flush red skin showed large handprints on her two round globes. Turning around, she gave him a clear view of her front. Tender nipples were still erect from the previous night's excursion. Her lips were swollen which accentuated the whisker rash that was prominent across her face, belly and thighs. His stomach dropped at the sight before him. Apparently he was wrong. Her evening away took on a different light, one that was filled with bare flesh and hot passions. Not being able to stomach anymore, Michael stealthily left her abode. If he had waited, he would have heard her painful cries fill the quiet dwelling.

Returned to the present in a flash, Michael glared at his partner. Something needed to be said, and he needed to say it. As he opened his mouth to speak, the room no longer was a secluded haven. Several other operatives walked in as a loud beep echoed when the teleconferencing screen popped up. He had lost his opportunity.

The Council Nikita was back in charge. After Operations outlined the mission objective, she took the helm. Carefully she guided them with accurate precision through the unexpected scenario. Section had been looking for this opportunity for eons. This level of information could only come from the inside. Sitting back, Michael's mind went over the possibilities. O'Malley had to be the culprit, but what did he get in turn?

The morning's vision of his soiled Nikita sprang forth.

** O'Malley should be pleased. He got what he wanted. **

Shifting his eyes back to her stoic face, he only hoped that it was worth it.

*********** Brittle leaves crunched under the weight of his feet. Gingerly moving underneath the laden branches of hundred year old trees, Michael crouched down in position. Streams of sunlight filtered through the lush foliage casting an intricate array of shadows and light. As if sensing the impending doom, absent were the natural sounds of the forest. The melodic shrill of birds calling their mates disappeared along with the steady buzz of insects. In the quiet tranquility, only weapon carrying humans existed.

Overlooking the canyon he counted off the hostiles as they came into view. Clad in gray and black fatigues, the targets dispersed to their assigned positions unaware they were being watched. "Five armed on perimeter. Ignacio and McWilliams just outside the humvee."

Birkoff's voice responded in his ear. "Confirmed. Toro entourage 15 minutes out."

"How many?" Nikita voice rang in the ears of all the operatives.

A few seconds passed as Arlis was patched through. "Two black sedans. Heavy glass looks bullet proof. Three in the first car, two in the second. Embassy tags."

Nikita quietly muttered an expletive from her secluded hiding spot. She anticipated the strength of the opposition, but the armed vehicles she did not. "All are expendable expect the Ambassador, Ignacio and McMilliams. Make your shots count. Commence only on my command."

Hence they waited for the game of cat and mouse to start. The timing was touchy. Take down must occur after Ambassador Alesandro Toro sold out his country and the United Nations to Red Cell. For the past 2 years Red Cell had been obtaining security algorithms and military satellite codes for the NATO countries. Until now their method of acquisition had been a closely guarded secret. To limit the ability for espionage, these various security keys were changed monthly. It would have been a foolproof plan if the head of the UN Security Council hadn't sold out.

Every few weeks a meet would take place. The location would never be the same. The courier was different. The source was never apparent. It was sheer luck that Section picked the one meet where the Ambassador would personally attend.

With five minutes left to spare, Michael meticulously searched the surrounding canyon with his binoculars. He knew where each member of the team was placed. Each position looked down onto the canyon below. When bullets started to fly, they were assured a hit. He had never known Red Cell to be this lax. They literally had no defense. Their flanks were exposed on all sides. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

This inconstancy and lack of planning was hard for Michael to swallow. Cockiness was one explanation. A setup was another. If he hadn't seen with his own eyes the price of the information, he would be concerned. Nikita's bedroom charms and passions were immense. The memories of her burning in his arms were too close to the surface. The pain he felt at her recent betrayal still resided in his heart. This was a big breakthrough, but Nikita sold herself short. Her worth could not be measured, at least not by this one transaction. The guilt that he was responsible for her change tore at what was left of his soul.

The slight movement of branches above Nikita's position drew his attention. Focusing his lens, Michael almost lost his footing. Across the canyon, Nikita and O'Malley were crouched together. By the covered movement of her lips and the nod of his head, it was obvious she was giving O'Malley last minute instructions.

** no she wouldn't....she couldn't betray the Section...why? ** She couldn't have turned, not his Nikita. Not after all he had done for her. It was impossible. She had changed, but not so drastically. There had to be an explanation, and he had to know it now. Even if Nikita was the reason, he couldn't sit and watch a mission go bad. Plotting a course between his spot and hers, Michael started his stealth journey.

Dismissing O'Malley with a wave of her hand, Nikita watched him disappear into the green surroundings. If all went well, Section would have their targets and she would have Michael right where she needed him.

"Count off. Prepare for sequencing." Nikita listened as each of her team assured her of their readiness. Soon two automobiles could be heard in the distance.

"Wait for transfer, then on my pulse innitiate take down." Satisfied that the objectives would be completed, Nikita focus on her other problem. Switching to a separate frequency she had reserved for O'Malley she asked for a status. His response was not what she hoped for. "What do you mean he's not there? Damn it find him."

"On his trail now. He's heading due south. Towards you." O'Malley was puzzled. If that were the case, he would have run right into Michael on his way here. Disappearing into the lush growth once again, the game of hide and seek began in earnest.

Muttering to herself, Nikita tried to keep control of both missions in her mind.

***********

Oblivious to the situation playing out above them, the meet was about to take place. Stepping out from his black Mercedes, Alesandro Toro went to greet his associates. Ignacio and McWilliams were legendary. Even considering their notorious reputations, Toro had no qualms about working with these two leaders of Red Cell. They provided him with money. He provided them with information, very expensive information. It was an arrangement that was mutually beneficial.

Upon reaching his companions, Toro greeted each man as a long lost friend. Surprisingly, the enthusiasm was returned. Everything was going according to their plans until their laden briefcases were exchanged. An electronic pulse was sent, and the take down was in progress. Gunshots filled the air as bullets imbedded themselves into targets. Dropping like flies, the guards and perimeter security fell to the ground before a singled shot was fired in return. In the aftermath only three stood amid the carnage.

Toro, who had no taste for violence, jumped as Section operatives filtered out of the dense forest. Ignacio and McWilliams did not fare so well. This situation was one they were accustomed with. Orders were that they were not expendable, but that did not include slightly damaged. Each sported bullet wounds to their gun hands and legs. Leaning against the jeep they came in, the blood dripped down their bodies and mingled with the dirt beneath their feet. Raising their faces in indifference, they waited knowing escape was useless.

Quickly issuing orders for detainment and clean up, Nikita returned focus to her primary mission. It was the true reason she was here. "Michael, channel two."

Not hearing confirmation, she tried again. No luck. "O'Malley, what have you got? Where is he?"

Startling her, a lilting voice came from the bushes behind her. "Turn around slowly."

Doing as requested, she faced the owner of a voice that haunted her day and night. What he saw shocked her. Michael had O'Malley in a chokehold. His gun resting against Jerrod's temple.

"Michael. What are you..."

He cut her off. " What is going on?"

Putting her gun down, Nikita inched her way towards the dual. "I needed your help. You wouldn't listen, so this was the only way."

"You sent him to kill me? That doesn't make sense." He saw her move closer. "Stay"

Mentally cursing the turn of events, Nikita halted her progress. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere. Not kill, Michael. Detain. I need to talk to you."

"Why didn't you ask? Why bring him into this?"

O'Malley was shifting in Michael's grasp. Looking at Nikita, he stilled at the shake of her head. He didn't like the setup, but he would wait for her guidance. Once false move could mean the end of his life.

"You didn't want to see me. I had no other choice." The pain was evident in her eyes.

Seeing that she believed what she said, Michael comprehended how little she knew him. "I came by the other night Nikita. You weren't there. You couldn't wait one day. Why?"

Salty tears overflowed her azure eyes. As they dripped down her face, Nikita shifted her face so he couldn't see her pain. "I couldn't take that chance."

Her words and evident anguish stilled him. Pulling the gun away, he got Jerrod's full attention. Tightening the grip on his neck. Michael whispered so she wouldn't hear his words, "Stay away from her. Touch her again...and you die. Understand?"

A brief nod of his head and O'Malley was thrown aside. Picking himself up, he almost went after his once capture until Nikita halted him. "No....leave us."

"But...."

Exasperated, she glared fire and ice. "Now...Jerrod."

O'Malley disappeared into the forest as quickly as he came. Soon they were alone.

Finding his voice, Michael proceeded. His anger just below the surface of his stoic mask. "Well? What was so important that you had to sleep with him?"

Blue eyes snapped up to meet green. She was in shock. "How did you..." Nikita's sex bruised body flashed in his mind. The reddened flesh, swollen lips and slow movement from muscles used renewed his hurt. "I was there in your apartment when you returned."

Leaning back against a tree, Nikita tried to remember that morning. Her anger and self-hatred had encompassed all her thoughts. My god what must he think. "There was no other way. That was the price for his assistance. I needed help."

"Why couldn't you come to me?" Walking closer, Michael grabbed her chin in his extended hand. "Why?"

Trying to pull away to no avail, she met his glare head on. "You left me. You don't care." Wanting to weep at the situation, Nikita continued quietly. "What I need from you, I don't know if you can give."

Wiping her wet skin with a wayward finger, Michael was flabbergasted. "Never. I would never do that. Never." Pausing, his curiosity got the best of him "What do you need?"

Instantly the muffled sound of a gun being fired registered in his mind. As Nikita's mouth moved to explain, her body collapsed into his arms as she was struck. Raising his gun and struggling not to drop his love, Michael sought out the intruder.

Fifteen feet away, Manuel slowly lowered his smoking weapon. Dropping it to the ground, he met Michael's rage.

"Just a tranq dart. Madeline's orders. Bring her." Turning he left.

Gathering Nikita gently against his chest, Michael began his journey back to the Section van. He was so close to finding out the answers. The questions had nagged him for days. His concern was not for himself, but the one he carried. Now another element had been added into the mix of confusion. What the hell was Madeline up too? All Michael knew was that it couldn't be good.