What dark power without compassion
Called me up from nothingness
Filled my soul with fiery passion
Brought me doubt and cold distress?

Alexander Pushkin

"What the hell happened out there, Michael?"

Operations glared at his Level Five Operative. He didn't know which was more infuriating...the fact that Michael's mission in Liberia had nearly become a bloodbath, or that Michael didn't seem to care one way or the other.

Michael looked at him with a calmness borne of disinterest.

"There was an anomaly. It was necessary to reconfigure the profile at the last moment."

Operations gritted his teeth and wished, not for the first time, that he had acceded to Madeline's request and let her handle this particular debrief. God, he needed a cigarette.

"The only anomaly out there tonight, Michael, was you!" Michael remained silent, staring out through the large windows that looked down upon the main floor of Section.

Frustrated by Michael's continued silence, Operations sighed angrily. He was getting very weary of the fallout from Nikita's death. How could someone possibly cause more trouble dead than alive?

He waved his hand at Michael dismissively. "I want a full report on my desk in one hour."

Michael nodded and walked slowly out of the office, barely acknowledging Madeline as she passed him in the doorway.

Operations watched him leave before turning his attention to Madeline. "It's been four months. How much longer is this going to go on?"

For a split-second, Madeline wished that Operations would take a less personal interest in his star operative's progress. "He spent three years as Nikita's mentor. The transition was bound to be difficult given the circumstances of her death."

"How many more excuses are you going to make for him, Madeline?" His unspoken insinuation was more than clear.

Madeline offered him a gentle smile, but no reply. She was well used to his ambivalent feelings towards Michael. Operations was genuinely fond of the younger man, almost to the point of pride. But that admiration always became entangled in too many other conflicting emotions.

She sighed silently, ruing the fact that she had ever spoken to Operations about her part in Michael's training. She wasn't quite sure why she had felt the need to share the fact that she had been Michael's mentor in valentine duties. Operations had always been a possessive lover and even now, he was not able to hide his jealousy of Michael where she was concerned.

For her own part, Madeline had made no effort to enlighten him to the fact that there had been no sexual contact between herself and Michael since his last valentine training session several years earlier. She enjoyed keeping her former lover on that knife-edge of uncertainty. It made him vulnerable to her influence. Madeline smiled to herself at the hypocrisy of her own thoughts. She admired Operations very much, and could admit more than a casual affection for him. But, if she was brutally honest with herself...and she usually was, she needed to feel the sway that she held over him.

Operations interrupted her thoughts with a terse question. "Do you think that it was wise, profiling that particular contact in the Liberian mission?"

"At the time, yes." She walked to the windows to watch Michael stalk through Section towards his office. "I'll admit that I was hoping to provoke a reaction from Michael."

"A reaction?" Operations bit the words out in disbelief. "He nearly killed the man!"

Madeline turned and met his eyes. "I know. But the fact that he did not may suggest that he is pulling back from the edge."

Operations ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "I hope you're right. I want this fixed now, Madeline. We can't afford to cut him any more slack."

"I quite agree. Ackerman will be arriving this afternoon from Two."

Their eyes met, and Operations smiled grimly. "Will this work?"

"I'm not sure. Michael's behaviour has been somewhat erratic of late. It's difficult to predict his reaction."

Operations snorted. "Erratic is not quite the word I'd use. What do you hope to achieve by bringing Mr Ackerman over from Two?"

Madeline smiled. "He's Level Four, with almost as much experience in the field as Michael. I propose that we use Ackerman to knock Michael back in line so to speak."

Operations returned her smile with a pleased grin of his own as her reasoning became clear. "Promote Ackerman over Michael?"

"Not yet. I would suggest that we let Mr Ackerman work his own way up the chain of command. He's ruthless...ambitious. He will do our work for us."

Operations turned to gaze out over Section. "And then...?"

"Then, when the time is right, we will let him step into Michael's place."

He turned to look at the woman beside him. So beautiful, and yet so dangerous. Sighing inwardly, he nodded.

"Good."

Madeline started to walk from the room, then turned to impart the information she had originally come to deliver.

"Incidentally, Mr Bauer will be discharged from hospital in two days. I would assume that he is also thankful that Michael managed to find enough self-restraint to leave him alive."

#####

Another time undone
hopelessly fighting the devil futility
Feeling the monster climb deeper inside of me
feeling him gnawing my heart away hungrily

"Untitled- The Cure"

Michael walked quickly to his office, rage stiffening his spine as he contemplated the thought of making a report on this particular mission to Operations.

It had been Madeline's doing, he was sure of it. Who else would have employed the twisted logic that had seen him meeting and being forced to work with Perry Bauer? Since their initial meeting, Section had used Bauer's connections to broker a number of deals, thankfully none of which Michael or Nikita had been required to take part in. What on earth had Madeline hoped to achieve? Michael slammed the door behind him, knowing full well that if Madeline had been after an insight into his mindset, he had certainly provided her with one.

"You know Michael...I never thanked you for the free floor show." Bauer smirked at him. They were posted at the meeting point, waiting for Robert Mirko to appear. He was one of Bauer's former associates from his heroin dealing days whose attentions were now directed toward supplying weapons to both sides of any coup that happened to take his fancy. Michael was to be presented to him as a prospective buyer. If not for the necessity of taking Mirko alive, Michael would have happily shot Perry Bauer three hours ago.

Michael shut his eyes for a few seconds, wishing that he was anywhere but where he was. It didn't work. There was no escaping Bauer's insidiously oily voice.

"I never would have thought that you two weren't an item, the way you went at each other in my spare room. What a pity you had to go and set that bomb off so soon...another five minutes would have done the trick." He leered and touched Michael lightly on the upper arm, his hand lingering. "I bet you're kicking yourself now, hey?"

Michael clenched his fists at his sides, trying to remind himself that the success of this mission depended on this man being alive to introduce him to Mirko. His flesh crawled where Bauer had touched him.

Bauer was silent for only a few seconds before trying to catch Michael's eye again. "That Sage...sorry, Nikita. Now, that was a prime piece of ass, you know what I'm saying? I nearly came in my pants just seeing her in that rubber underwear."

Michael felt the acid sting the back of his throat as the memories came rushing back. The paralyzing rush of pain that sliced through him was almost his undoing. He remembered how tightly Nikita had held onto him as Bauer touched her, her eyes locked onto his own in a silent plea for protection. This man had no right to discuss her. Then or now.

"I'm betting you had the same problem. Girl like that, working together all the time." He sighed dramatically. "I'm just sorry that now I'll never get the chance to sample it for myself. Now...why was that again?" He eyed Michael slyly, and Michael knew in that instant that Bauer had been provided with more information than was necessary.

"That's right. She's dead, isn't she?"

Bauer's words became a gurgle in his throat as Michael's hand wrapped itself around his neck. Michael looked into his eyes and saw his fear as he felt the cold metal of the gun that was pressed against his heart.

The blood drained from Bauer's face. "What are you doing?"

Michael held Bauer's eyes as he spoke, noting the sweat pouring down Bauer's white face with grim satisfaction. The three other members of Michael's team were out of sight and hearing range.

"Birkoff, we have an anomaly."

Birkoff's voice flared to life in Michael's comm. unit. "What's the problem, Michael?"

"Bauer appears to have exaggerated his connection with Mirko. He and Mirko have not been on speaking terms for several years. It may do more harm than good to have him involved in this scenario." At Bauer's indignant snort, Michael pressed the gun harder against the other man's chest and watched his pupils dilate with fear.

"How do you know?" Birkoff sounded annoyed.

Muting his comm. unit momentarily, Michael trailed his gun down Bauer's chest and stomach, finally placing the barrel deliberately against Bauer's groin. He could smell the man's fear and had to force himself not to recoil in disgust as Bauer started to babble almost incoherently.

"Come on Michael! Don't be pissed...so she's dead. From what I've seen of Section, there's plenty more quality pussy to go around..." His voice quavered and trailed off as he looked into Michael's eyes.

Michael calmly clicked the safety off the gun before he reactivated his comm. unit. "Because he's just told me, Birkoff. Downgrade his status to acceptable collateral."

The rest of the sequence remained a blur. They had acquired Mirko alive, but not without sustaining major losses. Bauer's scream of pain had alerted Mirko's men to the fact that all was not as it seemed.

Two team members wounded, one critically. As for Bauer, he'd live. Pity. Michael wasn't quite now sure why he moved the barrel of the gun two inches to the left before pulling the trigger. He could still hear Bauer's indignant roar as he had fallen to the ground, clutching his thigh, bright red arterial blood spurting through his splayed fingers. You crazy fuck, he'd screamed at Michael, ruining any chance of their team taking Mirko by surprise.

Michael finished entering the stark details of the skewed mission and pushed the panel aside. Rubbing his throbbing temples, he stared at the laptop sitting at his left hand. He hadn't had the chance to send a message today. He reached out and touched the screen, feeling the brutal pain of certainty sear his gut.

Four months.

Twelve weeks.

Eighty-four days.

She was gone.

#####

My only love sprung from my only hate
Too early seen unknown, and known too late - William Shakespeare

"I feel a sadness in you, Nikita."

"Well..." Nikita took a sip of coffee and flashed Tahlia a smile. "We've all got issues."

The two women were sitting in the diner owned by Tahlia and her husband Matty. Nikita had known this little family for less than a week, and she had been blown away by their generosity and kindness. Tahlia had helped Nikita find an apartment that wasn't too disgusting, given the fact that she didn't have a lot of budget to work with. That was another thing. Nikita had refused their efforts to lend her money so many times now that she had lost count.

Although she smiled at the glib quip, Tahlia was shaking her head before Nikita could finish speaking.

"Not like this. Your sadness goes bone deep, doesn't it?"

Startled out of her wariness, Nikita looked at the other woman with her heart in her eyes. Tahlia nodded gently and reached out to squeeze her hand.

"A misery that hides down so deep that you don't know if you'll ever be free of it...or if you can manage to survive the pain."

The coffee cup started to shake in Nikita's fingers, and she hastily placed it on its saucer.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"I think that is part of what is making you so sad. You seem so isolated...alone. Abandoned."

Nikita swallowed hard. There was something about this woman that made her want to throw aside all her defenses and weep on her shoulder. The longing to talk to someone, especially another woman, was almost overwhelming. Nikita thought of Carla and the tears welled hotly in her eyes.

Tahlia slid out of her seat and came to sit next to her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Did someone hurt you?"

Nikita shook her head as she wiped her eyes. "Not in the way you're thinking."

"A man?"

She could feel her heartbeat picking up speed. Tahlia was leading her into thoughts that she wasn't ready to face. "Yes."

"A friend? Or a lover?"

Despite the bleakness of the situation, Nikita couldn't suppress a dry smile. "You know, I was never quite sure of that."

Tahlia smiled. "You miss him." It was a statement, not a question.

"I don't know...I don't know what I'm feeling!" She could hear the frustration in her voice and looked away, embarrassed at how much she was revealing to a virtual stranger.

Tahlia caught her eyes again. "I don't wish to sound like a greeting card, but I have always thought that while love will bring great joy, it can also bring great sorrow." She smiled at Nikita, her own eyes filling with a sad knowledge. "True love should always bring both."

"Love?" Nikita shifted uncomfortably in her seat and shook her head. "No. Love isn't my problem."

"I think it is, love." Tahlia took her arm away from Nikita's shoulders and touched her hand lightly. "This man...did the two of you live in the same kind of world?"

Nikita frowned and looked away. Living wasn't exactly the right word for it. "Yes."

"Did he care for you?"

God, this was too much. Nikita tossed Tahlia a pleading look, but the other woman only waited patiently for an answer. She let out her breath on an unsteady sigh, faltering over the words. "I...I don't know. I think...perhaps, yes."

"You left him?"

That's one way of putting it. She took a deep breath and stared into her coffee cup. "I guess you could say that."

Tahlia squeezed her hand gently. "Or did he send you away?"

Nikita felt the wetness on her face. She hadn't even realized that she had started to cry. "Yes."

"Do you hate him for it?"

"No, I..." Nikita broke off, horrified by what she had found herself about to say.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Tahlia seeming to sense that Nikita wanted to talk, but that she needed a little time to get her thoughts together.

Nikita took a deep breath, and threw caution to the wind.

"For the longest time, I hated him with a passion." She saw knowledge flare in Tahlia's eyes at the mention of passion, and nodded her head in defeat. "Passion sort of became the problem, at least for me."

"How?"

"The life we lived...so many times I could not understand why he did the things he did. He repelled me and drew me in at the same time. But after a while, I could hardly think straight when he was around."

"Ah...lust is a wonderful thing to have experienced."

Nikita blushed and shook her head again. "It was more than that." They exchanged a look of pure feminine understanding. "And that was the problem."

#####

"You want to give me a job?" Nikita looked from Tahlia to Matty, not quite able to believe what she was hearing.

Matty smiled at his wife lovingly before grinning at Nikita. "That's right."

"But..." Nikita struggled to comprehend the enormity of their gesture. "You hardly know me!"

Tahlia reached out and patted Nikita's hand. "That's not true, my dear. We know you well enough. Besides..." She blew an exaggerated kiss at her husband. "Having another person here will give Matty the chance to take a few hours off every now and then."

Matty picked up Tahlia's hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers. Nikita looked away, guilty about the violent pang of envy that shot through her.

To distract herself, she watched Joseph and Holly playing quietly in the far corner of the café until she heard Matty clear his throat lightly.

Nikita looked at the two of them as they gazed at her. They looked so pleased with themselves that she couldn't help laughing. She wanted to lecture them about inviting virtual strangers into their home and their lives, but she just couldn't do it.

"How do you know if I'm the right person for the job?"

Matty rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her hesitation. "Our children think you walk on water. My wife likes you." He grinned and took a sip from his coffee cup. "And you can actually make coffee." He looked into her eyes, suddenly serious. "That's good enough for me."

Nikita took a deep breath and grabbed onto hope with both hands.

"Thank you."

#####

I'm running out of time
I'm out of step and closing down
and never sleep for wanting hours
the empty hours of greed and uselessly
always the need to feel again
the real belief of something more than mockery

Closedown - The Cure

Out of the corner of his eye, Birkoff caught a glimpse of a familiar figure entering Systems and his heartbeat picked up speed. Why did he always have to be the bearer of bad news? Not that what he was about to tell Michael would seem like bad news to anyone else, but Birkoff had that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. Michael was not going to like this.

Birkoff held his breath as Michael walked toward him, silently praying for someone else to claim his attention before he reached Birkoff's workstation.

No such luck.

"Why was I called in?"

Birkoff looked up at the man standing beside him and swallowed hard. Jesus, Michael had always looked unapproachable and intimidating, but since Nikita... Birkoff's thoughts stumbled over themselves. He didn't want to think about that night any more than he had to.

"Madeline requested it."

"Why?"

Birkoff stared at his computer screen, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"Uh...she wants you to work with Master To. A retraining programme for a couple of Level Two ops."

"Retraining?" Michael sounded bored, almost disinterested.

"Yeah...a couple of abeyance ops that have been pulled back onto active status."

"Who?"

Birkoff swallowed again, drumming his fingers nervously on the desk. Why me? Taking a deep breath, he held the panel out to Michael. He watched as Michael took it, his gaze quickly scanning the intel on the screen. With an intuition borne of dread, Birkoff knew the exact instant that Michael's eyes found the name.

#####

Michael felt his breath catch hard in his throat.

Nathan Byrnes. He stared at the data, recollection shooting through him like an electric shock.

The other six will be sacrificed.

Through the red fog of pain misting his thoughts, he heard Birkoff clear his throat. "Madeline reviewed his status a couple of months ago...I guess she thought we could have some use for him after all."

Frozen, Michael stood staring at the name of the operative whose second chance at life had come at Nikita's expense. The man who should have died during the incineration of the Freedom League base six months ago. The one Michael had waited for in vain at van access, only to find that a very different operative had taken his place.

Nikita.

A violent longing for her flooded his mind and body, sickness clawing coldly at his gut. Michael became achingly aware of the sound of his own breathing, loud and unsteady in his chest.

"They're waiting for you."

Michael raised his eyes from the panel to look at Birkoff, the sadness in the younger man's face barely registering on a consciousness pounded by grief. Mute with anger, Michael nodded abruptly and walked away, the panel clutched painfully in his right hand.

As he approached the dojo, he could see Master To instructing Byrnes and Connolly. The three men looked up as he approached, but his gaze went straight to Byrnes. The former abeyance operative returned his hard stare, flustered by Michael's obvious attention. Michael stared at the man who was still breathing because of Nikita's 'cancellation' and tried to remind himself that Byrnes would have no idea of the reason why he was still alive.

"Thank you for coming, Michael." The master's calm tones brought him back to himself with a start. He bowed stiffly to the instructor before moving to the side of the room in order to observe the training. He saw Byrnes throw him a puzzled glance before stepping up to meet Master To on the mat.

Michael looked away. He felt numb, as though his blood had slowed to a thick trickle in his veins. He struggled against the flood of memories that were slipping through the cracks of his control, but couldn't stop them coming. The sounds in the room faded away, and all he could hear and see was Nikita, the agony of her loss making him feel as though his heart was being ripped out through his chest. Michael stared across the common area of Section, his vision blurring as he gave himself up to the memories that were all he had left of the woman he had set free.

#####

Then as part of the game
She completely forgot where she'd hidden herself
And she spent the rest of her time
Trying to find the parts

Hide and Seek - Howard Jones

Nikita was deeply immersed in her least favourite task when she heard Matty call out to her in a laughing voice.

"Hey Nik...your favourite customers are here." Nikita put down the stock re-ordering form and poked her head out from the back room.

Wonderful...Huey, Dewey and Lewey.

"Want me to take 'em?" She looked at Matty and started to laugh at his manic eye-rolling.

"No, it's okay. You're busy. I can handle these idiots."

She had never been a morning person, and these early shifts were killing her. Still the money was good, she couldn't have asked for a better boss than Matty, and she could have all the free coffee she could drink. If I didn't have to deal with losers like these three, I'd be pretty happy. She rubbed her tired eyes and silently grumbled to herself as she watched the three shamble through the front door.

They were three of the rudest individuals she'd ever met, and considering the lowlifes that she'd encountered, Nikita thought that was quite saying something.

Taking a deep breath, she waltzed over to their table, ignoring the lecherous stares and the surly grunts that passed for conversation as far as they were concerned. For once, they managed to give her their breakfast orders without changing their minds a dozen times. Nikita had the sneaking suspicion that they contrived this little performance just to annoy her.

"Nik...order's up." She flashed Matty a grin and grabbed the last two plates. Hopefully, the idiots would eat quickly and leave her in peace.

The trio in question was strangely silent when she reached their table, but she didn't think anything of it. Looking back later, she realized with annoyance that their Neanderthal ringleader had most likely planned to 'stir her up something good', to use his own way of putting things.

Silently, they watched her put the plates down and turn away. She had only taken a few steps toward the kitchen before her peaceful morning came to an end.

"Hey! Sweetheart! Come here." It was Neanderthal Guy. Great.

Biting back a sharp retort, Nikita turned around and walked slowly back to the table.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, I've got a problem."

Nikita looked down at his sweaty face with its mean little eyes. Mate, you've got so many problems that I wouldn't know where to start. Only just managing to resist the urge to curl her hand around his thick neck and choke the life out of him, she put her hands on her hips and cracked her chewing gum provocatively.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Smirking, he glanced at his buddies with a "watch this" look before leering up at her. "Yeah...you see, there's no butter on my toast."

Their eyes met as Nikita silently fumed. They both knew that he didn't ask for butter. They also both knew that she wasn't going to contradict him. The customer is always right, my ass! Gritting her teeth, Nikita gave him a brittle smile and reached for his plate.

"I'm sorry. I'll get you another order."

Nikita reached across to pick up his plate, hating the fact that she had to get close to him. He reeked of cigarette smoke and stale sweat, and her empty stomach quivered in protest. Distracted, she didn't notice his hand reaching out until it was too late.

She winced as he grasped her tightly by the arm, his thick fingers digging into her flesh, his voice little more than a sneer.

"I don't like your attitude."

Nikita turned her head calmly to meet his eyes. "Really."

"Yeah, really."

Nikita's temper flared as the hand on her arm tightened. Why does this keep happening to me? Do I have an 'idiots welcome here' sign tattooed on my forehead? She shook her head. "Don't do this, please."

The man's eyes narrowed, evidently annoyed by her unruffled manner. He yanked her closer, intent on winning whatever battle he thought he was fighting. Enough. Nikita leant forward and stared into his face.

"You're...hurting...me."

He only smirked at her. "Well, you see, I'm just trying to teach you some manners."

Nikita was shocked by the urge to hurt that was rapidly building inside her. Her adrenalin was pumping, and she had forgotten what that felt like. She looked at the man holding her arm and his companions and briefly wondered what Matty would think if she took out all three of them.

She would never find out.

Matty was suddenly at her side, scowling as he wrenched the guy's hand off her arm. Her flesh bruised and tingling, Nikita quickly grabbed the plate of unbuttered toast and spun around, furious as she walked into the kitchen.

She watched as the man waved his hands about, assuring Matty that there was no problem. Matty put his hands on his hips and glared at him for a few seconds before turning to Nikita.

"You want me to toss this guy out?"

Nikita looked at her boss. She was sorely tempted, but when all was said and done, this was Matty and Tahlia's livelihood. Losing a customer meant losing money. Even if the customer was a complete dickhead, she was prepared to put up with it for their sake.

"Leave him be. He'll be fine once he gets his butter."

Matty nodded reluctantly and glared again at her antagonist. Nikita smiled as she buttered the rapidly cooling toast. It was kind of nice to have a knight in shining armor around, even if he did belong to someone else.

Hours later, long after the three stooges had left, she grabbed a strong coffee and sat for a moment before she left for the day.

So this was real life, she mused. Nikita traced invisible circles on the table top with her fingers and thought. She had money. She had friends. She didn't have to kill anyone. She smiled to herself at that. I came pretty close this morning.

She had a job...okay, it wasn't the greatest job in the world, but it was okay. She had somewhere to live...and there were no hidden cameras.

So why did she still feel as though she was missing a limb? It wasn't really a question, but the answer flowed into her mind anyway, rushing through her body like a gust of heated oxygen.

Michael.

The dreams had eased, but they still came. Sometimes, when she was doing something utterly ordinary, like this moment...sitting drinking coffee in the diner she worked in, it felt as though she had dreamed the last three years...as though it had just been one long terrifying nightmare that she had finally woken from. And then she would dream again, and it would all come flooding back with a painful rush.

How long would it take before she was free of him? She had been so sure that it would be Section that would haunt her dreams, Section that would invade her every thought.

It wasn't. Nikita closed her eyes in quiet despair as the invisible walls of her past closed in, her heart singing out a silent plea.

When would freedom actually feel like freedom?

#####

He blinked, his eyes startled by the bright lights after wearing the hood for nearly two hours.

His host was walking towards him, smiling unsettling politeness. "How nice to see you again, my boy."

"Cut the crap, I don't have time for niceties."

The older man shook his head. "Come now...I know that you find what we do here distasteful. It doesn't mean that we can't be civilised about it, does it?"

"Let's just do this, okay?"

Zegna looked at his visitor and sighed. Such impatience...such misplaced ambition.

"The money will be wired to your account when your information has proven profitable."

The younger man scowled. "That's not what we agreed."

"My dear boy, how can I be sure that you're not playing me for a fool? Playing both sides, as you Americans say?"

"You have my word."

Zegna smiled politely at his reluctant business partner. "Forgive me if that doesn't quite reassure me."

He hummed to himself as he stared at the screen, quickly scanning the data his visitor had delivered before ejecting the disk. "Very good. Very good."

"Happy now?"

"Oh yes. This is quite comprehensive." He looked at the younger man. "Do not worry yourself...the money will be in your account before you can say...what is the phrase...Jack Robinson."

"It had better be."

Zegna snapped his fingers and two of his men stepped forward. "He may leave now. Please ensure that he finds his way back safely." He laughed. "Wouldn't want to have to start all over again with someone else, would we?"

The other man looked at him, puzzled by his jovial manner. At his look, Zegna smiled.

"Things are going very well, my friend. Just before I came here to meet you, I received a sterling piece of good news."

He slipped the disk into his pocket and rocked back on his heels. "We have located someone...someone we never thought we would find. Someone who will help us...help you, in fact. And we have found her right under our noses."

The other man frowned, puzzled. "Who?"

Zegna patted him companionably on the shoulder. "I wouldn't worry. I'm sure that you'll find out soon enough."

They exchanged a long look before the guards tugged on the visitor's arms and started to lead him away. The older man called out to him in a self-satisfied voice.

"I'm sure that we'll be speaking again very soon, Mr Ackerman."

The End

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