Nikita nodded as she looked with growing interest from her husband to his boss. She evidently didn't want to miss whatever fireworks were about to be set off, but Roberta steered her out of possible harm’s way and into the kitchen.

Left alone, the two men stood before each other, sizing up the other in a silent battle of wills. Operations could have easily ended the macho posturing by simply ordering Michael to cease this nonsense and return to Section. If he failed to comply, Operations would take out his gun and cancel him.

Then again, if he did that, he would have to kill Roberta Wirth and her daughter as well, something he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to cancel Michael either. Even though he was just one operative, Operations had a feeling that Michael’s demise would set off a chain reaction of misfortune throughout Section.

No, it was best to stick with his initial plan. However, the impregnable look in Michael's eyes didn't bode well for reasoning. Regardless of his decision to keep things calm, Operations couldn't control the reprehension in his tone when he finally spoke.

"The Mesner situation has gone critical. Galasso's base has yet to be discovered. We lost a whole team to a rogue faction of the Freedom League. And we have five new recruits that need orientation." Operations kept his voice low as he moved closer to Michael. “Your little temper tantrum couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

If Michael resented Operations comparing his attitude to that of a recalcitrant child, he didn’t show it. He also lowered his voice a level before speaking. “In coming here, you’ve not only compromised me and this mission, but yourself as well.”

“You left me no choice. Your insurrection is the reason were in this mess.”

Michael didn’t reply to that statement. He just nodded, as if he understood that his refusal to come in had set the subsequent events in motion. “I shouldn’t have been left out of the loop.”

“All this is not about being left out of the loop. That’s happened before and you’ve dealt with it.” Operations reminded him. “This is about Nikita.”

“As I’ve said before, she and her mother are innocent. When we resort to the tactics you and Madeline used, were no better than her father is.”

“Sometimes it’s necessary. In this case, I regret that it came to that. In retrospect, I realize that it was the wrong move to make. I’m not a patient man, especially when Oversight is breathing down my neck.”

It wasn’t an easy admission for him, but Operations wanted Michael to see that he wasn’t as merciless and fallacious as some thought him to be. Besides that, he wanted to effect a change in the way they conducted business at Section, and Michael was an integral part of the transition. He needed to smooth things over with him as soon as possible.

He also felt a need to lecture the younger man on the best way to separate his emotions and his ability to remain objective regarding the Chernek mission, but he already suspected that Michael knew what needed to be done. The normally obedient operative had held his inner turmoil in check for so long, it had been only natural for it to burst forth in the form of mutiny.

Maybe a couple of days to wallow in self-misery were what Michael needed before he returned to Section. Operations had never known Michael to brood about anything, but a chance to unleash his rage in the safe confines of his own home was probably healthier for all involved. In the interim, Operations himself, Madeline, and the other Level Five operatives would pick up the slack.

“Would three days be enough time for you to regain your focus?” Operations offered.

Michael’s eyes flickered to the kitchen door for a moment before returning to Operations. “Nikita is feeling better. And her mother will be here for another week.”

Holding his breath, Operations waited for Michael to expound on that statement. With foreboding, he thought of all the work he would have to shuffle and reassign for the next three days should Michael accept the downtime presented.

“I have your word that neither of them will be harmed again?” Michael’s query sounded a lot like a command.

“I think we’ve seen for ourselves that those two scenarios would fail miserably if attempted again.” Operations replied ruefully. “You have my word.”

“Then I’ll be in tomorrow morning.”

Operations resisted the urge to dance a jig. He hadn’t really wanted to entrust such a volatile matter as the Mesner profile to Zalman or Ferrera and he was buoyed that he wouldn’t have to.

“You’re sure you’re up to it?” Operations wanted assurance that Michael wouldn’t change his mind.

“Of course.”

“Well then.” Operations couldn’t hold back a smile as he walked to the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?” There was no disappointment in Michael’s question. Under the circumstances, he was merely being polite.

Operations turned as he was retrieving his coat. “I think its wise to discontinue interaction between myself and your family. I’m sure you’ll make the proper excuses for me.”

“Stay.”

Operations blinked. “Pardon me?”

“They might question you leaving suddenly, especially since you’ve made yourself so at home.” Michael said pointedly.

If Operations was capable of blushing, he would have. Was his interest in Roberta that obvious or was Michael only referring to Operations’ impromptu visit?

“Since you think its necessary, I’ll stay.” With a grin, Operations draped his coat over the chair again. “Actually, I did want to taste those potatoes. I helped make them, you know.”

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

"Pink. Pink. Pink."

Toni turned to Nikita with a Cheshire cat grin. "Congratulations. It's stretch marks and swollen ankles for you the next few months."

Her grin disappeared when she took in Nikita's forlorn profile. They had made a lunch date for this afternoon and Toni had planned on picking up Nikita at the loft. She had been a little stunned when Nikita had called her on her way out and asked her to pick up three pregnancy tests on the way over.

"Why three?" Toni had asked.

"I want to be sure." Nikita had replied with an edge to her husky voice.

Now they were unequivocally positive. But Nikita didn't look too pleased about being in the family way.

"What's the matter?" Toni touched Nikita's shoulder. "You're not still in doubt? Three tests can't all be wrong."

Nikita shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. She gave Tony a small smile as she began cleaning up the clutter of the pregnancy tests from the bathroom vanity. "I'm just…surprised."

"Uh huh." Toni closed the toilet seat and sat down. Nikita was making an unsuccessful attempt to keep her face averted, but Toni still caught the play of emotions on her face. Surprised wasn't the word she would used to describe Nikita's expression. Dismayed was a better adjective.

"Nikita?"

"What?" Nikita's eyes blinked rapidly, maybe in an effort to keep from crying.

"Why are you surprised? Weren't you taking precautions?"

Nikita sighed. "The pill. Only I missed a few when I got sick a couple of months ago. And they're not as effective when you're taking antibiotics."

"Right." Toni nodded in understanding.

Propping herself on the edge of the bathtub, Nikita rested her chin in her hand. "I guess I should make a doctor's appointment. In case I made a mistake."

"Are you kidding?" Toni pointed toward the trashed tests. "Pink, pink, pink. Those things are pretty accurate. Besides that, you said you haven't had a period since right before you got sick. And your breasts are sore. And you're tired all the time."

"Okay, Toni." Nikita glared at her. "You're right. I'm pregnant."

"I just don't understand why you're not bouncing off the walls. You're not a teenager still living at home with her parents. You're a grown woman who's married to a wonderful man."

"I am happy. I'm cool, really." Nikita stood up abruptly. "Let's go to lunch."

Toni followed Nikita downstairs, still not convinced that she was as happy as she professed to be. She watched the blond slowly don her jacket, unwilling to let the subject drop. Silently, Toni weighed all of the possibilities before deciding on a plausible reason for Nikita's reluctance to embrace impending motherhood.

"Do you think Michael will be upset about you being pregnant?" Toni asked tentatively. It was more than likely that he would shun the idea of bringing children into such a doomed union.

Nikita shrugged as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. "I don't know."

Her standoffish demeanor warned Toni off the subject and this time she did let it slide. If Nikita wanted to talk about it further, she'd open up eventually. At least Toni hoped so. Nikita had a tendency to clam up whenever something was bothering her. She used to think Michael and his wife were complete opposites, but they were very similar in that regard.

Trying to lighten the somber mood, Toni pasted a cheery smile on her face. "So where should we eat?"

As soon as she voiced the question, her cell phone began to ring. Toni pulled it from her shoulder bag and answered it. "Hello?"

"Dominique." Michael's French accent swirled around her code name.

"Yes, what is it?" Toni feigned a conversation regarding her phony occupation, even though Michael had already hung up. Nikita stood by patiently and waited for her to finish.

"I'll be right there." Toni flipped the phone closed. "There's a problem at work that I need to take care of. So much for my day off. I'm sorry."

"No problem." Nikita had already begun shirking her coat. "We'll do it another time."

Toni walked to her friend and gave her a reassuring hug. "I might have to leave town for a few days, but I'll call you when I get back." She gave Nikita a meaningful look. "If you need to talk."

"I'm okay. Really." Nikita pushed Toni gently towards the front door.

Toni hesitated a moment. She wasn't sure what to do to make her feel better, but she couldn't leave Nikita in such a gloomy state. "I don't know what's going on with you and Michael. You know, if maybe you're having problems or something like that. But I do know that however grim your situation looks, there's always someone who is worse off than you."

The words didn't sound comforting to Toni's own ears, but after contemplating them for a moment, Nikita's lips curved into a genuine smile. "You're right. I am fortunate. Thank you for reminding me."

"You're welcome." Toni's spirits lifted at having made her feel better. "Now comes the billion dollar question."

"Which is?"

"When are you going to tell Michael?"

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

A nice bouquet of flowers in hand, Operations straightened his tie and brushed microscopic lint from his suit coat. His finger went to press the buzzer of Roberta Wirth’s apartment, but suddenly it stilled.

“What in the hell am I doing?” He muttered under his breath.

Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to get the vivacious woman out of his mind since his dinner with she, Michael and his wife two months ago. It had been a long time since he had pursued a woman other than Madeline, and if his memory served him correctly, the little signals Roberta had been giving him that evening indicated mutual interest.

Still, the rules regarding Section operatives and civilians were explicit. Initiating a relationship with Roberta would only endanger her. Then again, he had a lot more freedom than most. No one would ever know and he only intended to see her this once. Their time together had been minimal and Roberta was an intriguing puzzle to him. Once he discovered the mystery fueling his fascination, he would more than likely lose interest and return to mooning over Madeline.

Besides that, it had been wonderfully refreshing to talk to a woman without the topic of conversation centering on abeyance operatives or terrorist plots.

With resolve, he pressed the buzzer, bewildered by the sudden nervousness he felt. As soon as Roberta appeared in the doorway, his male senses kicked into overdrive.

“Paul.” Roberta was taken aback by his appearance. “This is a surprise.”

“Hello, Roberta.” He acknowledged her with a grin. “I was in town on business and thought I’d drop by.”

“In town on business, huh?” She chuckled. “That’s an old one.”

He experienced a painful moment of déjà vu and he cautiously peered into the apartment behind her. "You don’t have company, do you?”

“No.” Roberta replied as she studied him curiously. “How’d you know where I live? Did Michael tell you?”

“You’re in the phone book.” Operations lied and hoped she was.

“Oh yeah.” She smiled as she sized him up with feminine appreciation, then held out her hand. “Those for me?”

Operations presented her with the flowers as he admired the attractive streaks of gray in her dark brown hair. “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me this evening?”

Roberta held the bouquet under her nose and inhaled deeply, then stepped aside to allow him inside. “Always welcome a man bearing gifts. Get in here before Mrs. Bloomberg sees you. She’s ninety and loves to spread gossip.”

He progressed into the tiny apartment and stood self-consciously in the living room. It was amazing that her ex-husband, according to intel, could live so lavishly while his ex-wife and daughter had led such a lower class existence. But though the furnishings and the apartment were quite old, their appearance told him that Roberta liked things sterile and neat.

She stopped in front of him, holding her flowers to her chest as she looked at him with wry amusement.

“What?” Operations wanted to know the reason for her sly smile.

“It was the stripper thing, wasn’t it?” Roberta’s grin widened.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do. Men hear the word ‘stripper’ or ‘boobs’ and their hormones start doing the mambo.”

Operations laughed. “I don’t do the mambo. And I enjoyed cooking dinner with you and thought we could let someone make it for us this time.”

Mulling it over for a moment, Roberta agreed. “Sounds good. But I have to warn you. I haven’t done the bump and grind in over twenty years and my body is no longer defying gravity.”

“I think you’re a very lovely woman, Roberta.” He told her with respectful sincerity.

A blush spread across her cheeks and Roberta begin tugging at her shoulder-length hair self-consciously. “Umm…”

He waited for her to say whatever it was she was trying to say with satisfied male pride. Rendering a woman with Roberta’s lively wit speechless was quite an accomplishment.

“I need to change.” Roberta motioned for him to sit. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

“Take your time.” Operations made himself comfortable on the sofa. He watched her hurry into a bedroom, casting a nervous smile over her shoulder as she went.

When the door shut firmly behind her, Operations took out his cell phone and dialed Section One. He wanted to make sure things were running smoothly and nothing had escalated in his absence.

He might not have another night like this for a long time and he intended to enjoy it without interruption.

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

It was a delicious sensation.

Michael's smooth, hard chest rubbing roughly against Nikita’s tender breasts as he moved inside of her with exquisite torture.

Slow, grinding circles.

Quick, hard thrusts.

Nikita held on to him as best she could, but her limbs were heavy with fatigue. Her blond lashes fluttered downward as her eyes closed in ecstasy. Her brain felt like sludge. Her body seemed to be melting into the mattress. The combination of physically exhausting sex and her pregnancy was making her lethargic and listless.

"Ni-ki-ta." He whispered in her ear, as his teeth nipped at her lobe. She felt remorse at not being more responsive, but she was so tired. He raised up an inch to gain more leverage and angled his hips.

Oh yes. Now the thrusts were deeper, longer.

Mmm, it felt wonderful, but she missed the contact with her breasts. They were so swollen and sore. If he would just knead them like he had earlier, but his hands were busy elsewhere.

She found the strength to clasp her arms tightly around his back and press him closer to her, bringing his chest back in contact with hers.

Much better.

She sighed in pleasure as a luscious ache pulsed between her thighs, his hardness a delightful friction as it slid in and out of her moist, pliant body.

The sensations were building. She was floating, floating...

She woke with a start. Had she fallen asleep or just zoned out for a moment? Michael was still stroking steadily into her, his breath warm on her neck where his face was buried against it. His hand cupped her bottom and pushed her up into him as his soft moans drifted to her ears.

He hadn't noticed her lapse. Or maybe he didn't care. He was in one of his 'all night' moods and she knew she wasn't going to make it. As soon as she came, she was going to pass out and sleep like the dead.

No, she couldn't pass out. She still hadn't told him about the baby. Her new obstetrician had confirmed their new arrival for early December. She should have told him as soon as he had climbed into bed and woke her up after arriving home at nearly one in the morning. But his mind hadn't been on conversation and she'd been too weary to talk anyway.

His strokes intensified and she squeezed him between her thighs. Slow as molasses, her hands smoothed a path down his muscled back and clasped his undulating buttocks. The ache was building. Michael’s hand slipped between their slick bodies to stroke her, bringing her closer to the peak. Any minute now, and then she would enter oblivion. Her news would have to wait until morning.

Michael’s fluid thrusts became stilted. His moans turned into broken gasps. His arms tightened around her and she knew he was as close as she was.

No, she was closer. The intense throbbing raced to her center. Her inner walls quivered and spasmed around his thick shaft. A moment later he stiffened and she felt him jerk and quiver inside her, the full weight of his body pressing her further down into the mattress.

They lay locked together for long moments afterward. She was surprised that she was still awake, but she wouldn’t be for much longer. He was kissing her mouth, and her lips slowly parted in response. She was numb, her body still humming. She felt herself drifting again, and Michael easing out of her and moving away.

She was lying on her back, her least favorite sleeping position. With Herculean effort, Nikita forced her depleted body onto its side. She felt his strong arm still draped across her waist and she struggled to open her eyes.

Michael lay on his stomach facing her, his unruly curls falling across his closed lids. She doubted he was ready for sleep. He had still been hard when he’d pulled out of her. But before she succumbed to her fatigue, she had to tell him about his impending fatherhood.

The pillow was so soft, her body sated and drained. A downy blanket was tucked around her, encasing her in a warm cocoon. She couldn’t form a coherent thought as her eyes grew heavy again.

I’ll tell him in the morning, Nikita thought with a weary sigh as she slipped into unconsciousness.

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

The rustle of paper woke Nikita. She opened her blue eyes to slits and peered at Michael, who was reclining against the headboard on his side of the bed, the blanket draped across the lower portion of his nude body. His attention was riveted on the newspaper as he sipped aromatic coffee from a mug.

Sensing her wakefulness, he turned his head towards her, his gray-green eyes caressing her sleep-worn features. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Nikita mumbled in reply and closed her eyes again. She was lying on her stomach, which was an uncomfortable position for her aching breasts. Too lazy to roll over just yet, she lay there and waited for the haze of sleep to lift.

“What time is it?” She murmured after a moment, feeling his intense gaze on her.

“Ten a.m.” He answered, his voice annoyingly alert.

Nikita yawned loudly and sank deeper under the covers. A second later, she heard a rattling sound and felt something being thrust under her nose.

“What are these?” Michael asked softly.

Nikita coerced her heavy lids open and stared at a white plastic bottle.

Her prenatal vitamins.

She chanced a glance at her husband, who was looking down at her with patient expectance.

Well damn. There went her romantic we’re-having-a-baby spiel. She closed her eyes again. “Vitamins.”

She heard the paper slide to the floor and felt the mattress jounce slightly as he shifted his body close to hers. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. This time, Michael was reclining on one elbow and leaning over her.

He traced a finger over her shoulder as he brought his face close to hers. “How far along are you?”

Nikita scrutinized his handsome face. Was he happy? She couldn’t tell, not by his tone of voice or facial expression. “About eight weeks.”

“And how long have you known?”

“Umm, a week and a half.”

She waited for him to question her further, but he said nothing at all. Nikita closed her eyes yet again to block out his benign look. Well, this was her Michael. She hadn’t expected him to jump up and start pounding his chest at the news, but she had expected more than just a blank stare.

Nikita felt his hand glide up the smooth skin of her bare back to the nape of her neck. His fingers slid into her hair and gently massaged her scalp.

“Okay, Michael. I’ve just confirmed that you’re going to be a father and you act as if I’m quoting stock prices.” Nikita intoned. “How do you feel?”

For long moments, his fingers played in her silky tresses and Nikita began to think he was actually upset about her pregnancy. Given their circumstances, that was understandable. Before she could voice the thought, however, he spoke.

“I’m speechless.” He finally admitted.

Nikita’s lashes fluttered upward. “By speechless, can I assume you mean happy?”

Michael nodded slowly, his look faraway. “I never thought I would be a father.”

“Really?” Nikita rolled over on her back and clasped his hands. “Why not?”

Michael closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, they were clouded with past pain. “It’s complicated Nikita.”

Of course, she knew the reason for his doubt, but she had wanted to give him a chance to tell her about it himself.

“Even when you were married to Simone?” Nikita slid his hands up her abdomen to her breasts. “You never talked of having children?”

“We never talked about it, because Simone couldn’t have children.” He told her, and said it in a way that meant he didn’t want to talk about that part of his life. Simone had always been a touchy subject with him. Out of respect, she decided to leave it alone.

“My breasts are killing me.” She said instead. “One of your expectant father duties is to massage them. Please.”

A small smile parted his lips. He gripped the taut breasts and slowly began to knead.

Nikita purred contentedly and closed her eyes. “Good husband.”

“Are you happy?” He asked cautiously, as if he were afraid of her answer.

She spared the question some thought before replying. “We’re not bringing him or her into the best of situations. But I’m happy. Still stunned. But happy.”

“Why is this not the best of situations?”

“Well look at us.” Nikita played with a lock of his hair. “You’re gone all the time and I don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“Are you bothered by my job? You haven’t said much about it lately.”

Nikita laughed. “You mean I haven’t bitched about it lately.” She shrugged and tossed a leg over his hip. “I’m used to it now. Besides. It’s not like you can quit.”

Michael’s hands ceased their ministrations, his eyes flaring with something akin to alarm. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said.” Nikita eyed him curiously. “You can’t quit. At least not for a while. You told me you had a sort of contract. Keep kneading.”

Michael’s hands continued their slow massaging.

“But you know.” Nikita bit her lip at the pleasurable pressure of his rough hands. “You’re going to miss a lot of the baby’s growing up if you do remain where you are.”

Michael studied her features in confusion and Nikita pressed him further. “Maybe you should think about what you can do to change that. Before things become more…complicated.”

She had meant her words to have a double meaning and she wondered if he picked up on it. Nikita was treading on thin ice by even broaching the subject of his job. She thought she had made her peace with his occupation, but now that she was pregnant, she needed assurances.

“That’s fine, babe.” Nikita reluctantly pulled his hands away and kissed each one. She looped her arms around his neck and rubbed her body sensually against his. “You really are glad about the baby?”

“Yes.” Michael’s hands slid to her buttocks and cupped them gently, as he kissed her mouth, then pressed his face against her hair and hugged her tightly to him. “I’m not very good at expressing my feelings. But I’m happy. And I’m happy that you’re Mrs. Samuelle.”

Mrs. Samuelle.

Nikita feathered a soft kiss against her husband’s neck and wondered what her real name should be.

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

Another day. Another blood bath.

Toni shifted in bed, wincing at the dull pain that rippled through her injured back. Operations had graciously granted her two days of downtime, but she was going to need more than that to recover from the shock of losing most of her fellow team members in a mission that had gone horribly wrong.

Only she, Michael, and Pollack had survived. The other seven members had been decimated by a grossly miscalculated number of hostiles. She could still hear the horrified moans that had resonated through her com unit. Not even the backup team had been able to save them.

The ride back to Section had seemed to last an eternity. Upon arrival, Michael had sidestepped a furious Ops and lit into Crowder, the asshole who had profiled the mission. Toni had never seen so much emotion, subdued as it was, from Michael. Maybe his future role as a father had brought his suppressed feelings to the surface.

It had been over two weeks since Nikita's discovery of her pregnancy. She was aware that Michael knew, but Toni had been afraid to broach so personal a subject until they'd boarded the transport plane carrying them to their ill-fated mission.

"So, how do you feel? About being a father?" She had whispered to him after cornering him in a quiet area of the plane.

Michael had looked at her with his usual benign mien. "I feel fine."

She had been brave enough to push on. "I've been wondering. Section probably wouldn't condone you having a child. Have you told them yet?"

"No." Michael had replied succinctly and walked away, effectively ending the conversation.

Toni sighed and rolled over. Michael went home to his radiantly pregnant wife to really live instead of to a lonely apartment to wallow in misery, as Toni did. His life was ill-fated, but at least Michael had one outside of Section. Maybe Ops could find some poor, unsuspecting son of a terrorist for her to marry?

The phone rang, pulling Toni briefly out of her misery and she rolled in a tangle of bedclothes towards the nightstand to answer it.

“Yeah?” Toni grumbled.

“Hey, you.” Nikita greeted warmly. “You sound very perky this afternoon.”

“Hey.” Toni tried to match Nikita’s apparent good mood. “How’s pregnancy?”

“Way cool. I heaved my fruit loops this morning.”

“That sounds like fun.” Toni chuckled in spite of her low spirits. “So what’s up?”

“My husband has left me to go into the office for a bit and I thought you might like to go jogging with me.” Nikita got to the reason for her call. “Then we can do lunch and you can watch me heave it too.”

“Should you be jogging in your condition?”

“I can if I want. Actually, I’ll be walking really fast. You’ll be doing the jogging.”

“Mmm. Sounds fun, but I’m not really in the mood.” Toni sighed as she reached behind her and clumsily massaged her back.

“What’s wrong?” Nikita asked with concern.

“Ah, nothing.” Toni blinked back tears and swallowed. What she wouldn’t give to be able to confide in her. “Just some stuff with work. I’m kinda depressed.”

“All the more reason for you to get out. It’s a beautiful day.” Nikita coaxed.

“Springtime in Paris usually is. Not today, okay? Maybe tomorrow…uh, when I get off work.”

“Alright.” Nikita relented. “I’ll be leaving in an hour. Call me if you change your mind.”

Toni hung up and flopped onto her stomach, crying out at the pain that shot through her forgotten back. She got up and took her Section prescribed painkillers, then slipped back into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

She awoke with a start a short time later, the nightmare she’d been having leaving a morbid impression on her already depleted emotional state. She recalled the images of gruesome, bullet-riddled bodies and wide-open, lifeless eyes with a shudder. Did she really want to lie around despondent all day with those kinds of memories reverberating through her head?

Glancing at the digital clock on her bedside table, Toni pushed aside the covers and swung her feet to the floor. Nikita had probably already left, but if she hurried, she could probably catch her at the park where they usually met. She couldn’t jog due to her injury, but a leisurely meal with a jubilant Nikita would be good for what ailed her.

Toni showered, dressed casually, and left her apartment. She reached the park in fifteen minutes and deposited her car in the crowded lot. Weaving her way down the jogging path, Toni’s head swiveled left and right as she searched for Nikita. She’d nearly walked the length of the park when she finally spied the tall blond leaning against a large tree in a less populated area.

But she wasn’t alone.

A tall, slim man with white-blond hair stood directly in front of Nikita, staring down at her intently as he spoke with her. Dressed in a dark designer suit, he looked very out of place in the casual atmosphere of the park. And he looked vaguely familiar.

Where had she seen him before?

The man’s hand came up to caress Nikita’s cheek and Toni’s eyes widened in surprise. The gesture had been so intimate and loving, and so was the look in the man’s brooding eyes.

Suddenly, Toni’s memory clicked and she remembered where she had seen the man before. At the hospital a few months ago, coming out of Nikita’s ICU room.

Dr. Stanislov.

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

Toni made sure she was carefully hidden behind a tall bush as she watched Nikita and the man she thought had been Dr. Stanislov carrying on an intense, but reserved argument. Though they stood apart, their body language communicated to Toni that the argument was of an intimate nature.

An incredulous thought slammed into Toni's confused mind. Could Nikita be having an affair? Or had had an affair with a persistent man unwilling to leave her alone? It would certainly explain Nikita's lukewarm reaction to her pregnancy. The child could very well be his instead of Michael's.

Then again, Toni thought as she watched the man urgently grip Nikita's upper arms, she couldn't imagine Nikita cheating on Michael. Their marriage had been forged initially because of Section's devious machinations, but Toni had never doubted that the two of them loved each other. Despite Michael's frequent absences and his wife's loneliness, Toni couldn't see those factors sending Nikita into the arms of another man.

Then again...

Nikita lowered her head and pressed her hands against the man's chest. She was shaking her head and speaking again. The man was touching her hair, her face, as if he'd been roaming a desert for days and had just found an oasis. He lowered his head and buried his face in her hair, his eyes closing in ecstasy.

Nikita lifted her head and tried to pull away from him, but he held on. She looked around the park in agitation, then turned back to the man and began pleading with him, shaking her bright blond head with insistence. Her pleading fell on deaf ears.

The man gently pressed Nikita back against the tree and cradled her face between his large hands. Toni straightened with concern as Nikita's beautiful face contorted into a sob. His urgency waned as he spoke to her, passion flaring in his clear, blue eyes as his gaze worshipped her features. Then slowly, he dipped his head and kissed her.

Oh, God.

Toni's fingers dug into the palm of her hand and she clenched her teeth. She wanted to run to them and tear Nikita away from the man, then kick his ass for trying to steal Michael's wife away.

Her heart grew heavy. The more she watched, the more she realized her original suspicion was true. Nikita had had an affair with this man and probably ended it recently, maybe when she'd discovered her pregnancy. And now the man was desperately trying to win her back. Or make her leave Michael.

And what of his appearance at the hospital?

Toni could only surmise that he had somehow learned of Nikita's illness and, in an effort to see his lover, had posed as a doctor to gain entrance to her room. It was a far-fetched explanation, but given what she was seeing, what other conclusion could she come to?

The man was still kissing her, but Nikita didn’t look to be reciprocating. After what seemed like an eternity, she pushed him away from her and waved her left hand under his nose, the words coming out of her mouth terse and angry. Her other hand fluttered to her abdomen as she continued to rail at him, oblivious of the curious looks she received.

A second after her tirade, Nikita pivoted on her heel and hurried away from him, not even sparing a look back. The man called after her, but when Nikita failed to respond, he shoved his hands in the pocket of his suit coat and stared longingly at her rapidly retreating form.

As soon as Nikita disappeared from view, the man turned and walked in the other direction. Toni stood stunned for only a moment before she finally recovered, beat a hasty path to her car, and raced towards Michael and Nikita’s apartment.

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

Toni pounded loudly on the door of the loft, unsure of what she would say to Nikita about the incriminating scene she had witnessed in the park. She was all prepared to offer her friend support for what must be a confusing time in her life. But she also couldn’t help feel angry at Nikita’s betrayal of Michael.

Not that Michael was above reproach. After all, he’d been screwing Lisa Fanning and Andrea during his relationship with Nikita. The difference, twisted logic though it may be, was that Michael had had no choice, but Nikita had.

“Who is it?” Nikita’s strained, muffled voice sounded through the thick door.

“It’s Toni.” She replied impatiently.

“I don’t feel like company right now. I’ll call you later.”

“Open the door now, Nikita!” Toni pounded again as her voice raised a level. “I saw you in the park.”

A long moment passed before the door finally swung slowly open. Nikita propped herself against it and crossed her arms over her chest. Her look was unreadable, but her eyes and nose were red and swollen from crying.

“What’s going on, Nikita?”

“You saw me in the park?” Nikita asked coldly.

“I changed my mind about jogging and -“

“You saw me with another man.” Nikita finished for her.

“Yes.” Toni felt like crying. “Can I come in?”

Nikita turned and walked away and Toni followed her inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, determined to put her anger aside until she heard Nikita’s explanation.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Nikita propped her hands on her widespread knees and watched as Toni perched on the coffee table in front of her.

“Who is he?” Toni demanded.

Nikita’s lovely eyes were cold and distant. Her gaze focused on the hardwood floor as she struggled with the question.

Losing her patience, Toni grabbed Nikita’s chin and forced her head up. “I asked you a question!”

Eyes flashing, Nikita grabbed Toni’s wrist and squeezed it forcefully, then pushed the offending hand away. “It’s none of your business, Toni.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Nikita.” Toni rubbed her wrist, surprised at Nikita’s strength, and tried to offer reassurance. “It looks like you’re in a bad place and I want to help.”

Nikita expelled a harsh laugh and muttered under her breath. “I don’t believe this.”

Toni decided to use a straightforward approach. “Are you having an affair?”

Nikita glared at the small brunette as she fell back against the couch cushions. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then leveled Toni with a resigned look. “I was.”

Stunned, Toni stared at Nikita, unable to voice the many questions on the tip of her tongue.

Infidelity? Not Nikita. She was far too adoring of and devoted to Michael. Regardless of that, Toni had seen the other man with her own eyes.

Toni rubbed her hand across her face with a defeated sigh. “Why, Nikita? Are things that bad between you and Michael?”

“I love my husband, Toni.” Nikita said with conviction.

“You were fucking another man, Nikita!” Toni hissed crudely.

“But it’s over now.” Tears swelled in Nikita’s eyes and spilled over. Her lips trembled as she stared back at Toni. “Are you going to tell Michael?”

Toni shook her head slowly. “It’s not my place to tell.”

“Thank you.” Nikita mumbled and swiped her hand across her face.

“I’m afraid, Nikita.” Toni moved to sit beside her, her arm sliding around Nikita’s shoulder in comfort. “You and Michael are the only stable people in my life. Knowing the two of you are having problems…”

“You shouldn’t base your happiness on our marriage, Toni.”

“I’m not. It’s just --“

“You know, I shouldn’t have married Michael in the first place.” Nikita scrubbed her hands over her face. “I knew it wouldn’t last.”

Toni frowned at her, even more confused. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we were screwed from the beginning. When he asked me to marry him, I should have run screaming in the other direction.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I love him. I thought things could work out, as impossible as that seemed.” Nikita wiped her nose on her T-shirt.

Confused, Toni sat back. “I don’t understand. What things were going on before you married Michael that made you almost not marry him?”

Nikita laughed derisively. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You are really scaring me now.”

“Toni.” Nikita grabbed Toni’s hands and turned to face her. “There are things that you don’t know about me that I can’t tell you. And if I told you, I’m afraid you and Michael would turn on me.”

“What things?”

“Everything done in the dark will come to the light.” Nikita quipped sarcastically. “I know Michael loves me. I know you care. Eventually you might forgive me, or you might not. See it’s easier for me, because I’ve had time to come to terms with …”

“With what? Nikita, don’t stop now!” Toni growled in frustration.

“I’m tired, Toni. You can bitch all you want, but I’ve said too much as it is.” Nikita rose from the sofa and moved towards the front door.

“You’re kicking me out?” Toni asked incredulously as she followed Nikita.

“Yes.” Nikita answered as she opened the door and stood with her hand on her slim hip. “I can’t talk about it anymore, Toni, or I’ll lose it.”

“Just answer me one question. Is that man harassing you? If you want me to, I can take care of him for you.”

“I’m sure you could.” Nikita agreed.

“So he’s not really a doctor?”

“You said one question.”

“Nikita, please!”

Nikita looked away, embarrassed and unable to meet Toni’s eyes. “He pretended to be a doctor to see me, but it’s been over for months.”

“And the baby?” Toni knew it was an incredibly personal question to ask, but she had to know. “Is it Michael’s?”

Nikita touched Toni’s arm lightly. “Yes, Toni.”

Sighing in relief, Toni reached out and pulled Nikita into a hug. They stood locked together for a long time, Toni silently supporting her friend and offering her love and friendship, even though she wanted to ring the younger woman’s neck.

She pulled back and peered into Nikita’s tear-streaked face. “Nikita, I don’t have to tell you that if Michael finds out, he’ll be devastated. You and the baby are his whole world. Just please tell me you’re not going to leave him?”

Nikita’s hand fluttered to her mouth as she struggled to hold back tears. But when she finally spoke, her words were firm and sure. “Michael and I don’t have a future, Toni. I think by now you should know that.”

Before Toni could protest, Nikita silenced her with a raised hand. “Michael has a lot to answer for as well, but I’ve been keeping too many secrets. I have this horrible feeling that things from my past are going to rise up and bite me in the ass pretty soon. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that I really do love Michael. And nothing will ever change that.”

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

Toni didn't stop at Walter's station for their usual round of salacious flirting. She barely spared Birkoff a glance as she passed his area and walked with leaden feet towards Michael's office. She had been dreading this moment ever since her discovery of Nikita's affair two days ago and Toni wasn't sure she could face her mentor knowing what she did.

In her mind, her conversation with Nikita reverberated with increasing perplexity. Nothing in Nikita's personality indicated a moral deficiency. She wasn't perfect, but she wasn't the adulterous type either. And she was a newlywed to boot. None of it made any sense, even though Toni had seen and heard the proof herself.

"...I've had time to come to terms with..."

"What's done in the dark will come to the light."

"There are things you don't know about me..."

All of Nikita's ambiguous statements seemed to have a hidden meaning. Toni mentally stored them away for future analysis as she finally reached her destination.

Pausing before Michael's door, she took a deep breath and put on her best game face. She rapped lightly before pushing it open and sticking her head in. "You wanted to see me?"

Michael was sitting before his laptop, elbow balanced on the arm of his chair and hand slowly stroking his chin in a gesture of deep reflection. His luminous eyes were fixated on the computer's screen and they didn't waver from their focus when he spoke. "Come in please."

With trepidation, Toni closed the door and lowered herself into the chair across from his desk. She folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for him to speak.

After a long minute, Michael finally looked away from the laptop, secured the room via his surveillance scrambler, and settled his gaze on Toni. He hesitated a moment before speaking, a surprising declination from his ordinarily direct manner. "Has Nikita confided in you regarding her past?"

A tiny flicker of her dark eyes revealed Toni's surprise at his question. She had been expecting a conversation of a Section-related nature. "What part of her past are you referring to?"

"Her problems with her mother. Her life on the streets."

Toni twisted her fingers together. "She mentioned it briefly a couple of times. I get the feeling she didn't really want to discuss it. Why?"

"According to Jamey, Nikita disappeared after they had spent four months together living in an abandoned building. She showed up eight months later and reconciled with her mother."

"And no one knows where she was those eight months?"

"No." Michael's gaze returned to the computer.

More secrets, Nikita? "So have you asked her about it?"

"She doesn't know I know about her disappearance. She did try to confess something to me about that time, but since then, she's avoided the subject."

"Have you tried to find out on your own?"

Michael nodded and lightly tapped the computer screen. "I've used several resources, but come up with nothing."

"And Jamey wasn't able to tell you anything else?" Toni pressed.

"Just that she said a male friend was helping her get her life together."

A male friend. Possibly tall, blond, and very handsome? Possibly Nikita's mysterious former lover?

"Honestly, she hasn't said anything to me." Toni told him. "I'm sorry I can't help you more."

"Perhaps you can." Michael replied. "She'd probably feel more comfortable telling you. Maybe you could coax her into it."

"I don't think so, Michael." Toni shook her head and looked away. She already knew too many of Nikita's secrets.

"Antonia -- "

"Michael!" Operations dictatorial voice bellowed through the intercom. "I need to see you and Antonia at Birkoff's station now."

Toni jumped up immediately, grateful for the fortuitous interruption. Michael met her at the door and placed a detaining hand on her arm.

Don't look at his eyes. Don't look at his eyes.

"Would you talk to her? Please?" Michael requested softly.

She couldn't help but look at him then and Toni sighed resignedly. How could she refuse those eyes and a man she thought of as a quietly domineering, aloof big brother?

"I'll see what I can do."

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

Hutchins observed Nikita Samuelle as she exited the American Library and walked through the parking lot, looking especially scrumptious in slim, black pants and a white, long-sleeved belly shirt. She caught the lascivious stares of a few men as she strolled towards her low-slung sports car, balancing a stack of books on her hip as she fished in her shoulder bag for her car keys.

Tailing Michael's statuesque wife for Madeline had its good and bad points. Good points being the blonde's long legs and curvaceous bottom. Bad points being his sitting in a car all day and trying to follow her obscurely while she ran a multitude of exhausting errands.

Looking back now, he regretted his part in poisoning her that fateful day in the park. Ever since her recovery and Michael's return to Section, the Level Five operative had been watching Hutchins, as if waiting for the right moment to pounce and exact his revenge. Being Madeline's playmate had its advantages, but Hutchins didn't think even she could protect him from someone as dangerous as Michael. And now that he'd gotten an eyeful of the stunning Mrs. Samuelle, Hutchins couldn't much blame him for being pissed.

Nikita slid into her Porsche and Hutchins started his car, which he had carefully parked as far away from the library as possible. He waited until she pulled out and then he merged into traffic a few cars behind her.

He groaned and cursed in frustration as again Nikita made multiple stops during their excursion. A clothing boutique, a dry cleaner, a market. Hutchins noticed the silver Mercedes during the stop at the dry cleaner. It trailed the Porsche at a very discreet distance, but not so discreet that he didn't notice. He deliberately fell back further so as not to be detected and waited to see if his suspicions were paranoid or intuitive.

Sure enough, when Nikita next stopped at a vintage bookstore, the Mercedes stopped a block down the street. The information Madeline had provided him on the Chernek mission had been vague, but he knew that whoever was pursuing her could possibly be linked to Michael's notorious father-in-law.

Nikita exited the bookstore a half-hour later and returned to her car. The Mercedes followed and Hutchins followed them both. The route they were taking indicated that Michael's wife was on her way home, so Hutchins veered off and took an alternate circuit. It would net him maybe two or three minutes to hide his car and take up a covert position.

Nikita showed up five minutes later and the Mercedes idled around the corner. As soon as she disappeared into the building, the car drove around to the alley behind it.

Hutchins slinked stealthily in that direction, hid behind a dumpster, and watched as two swarthy-looking men dressed in dark suits emerged from the car. They casually inspected their surroundings and then exchanged brief words before breaking into a locked rear door and entering the building.

Would Chernek's men resort to breaking and entering if he wanted to contact his daughter? Not very likely, judging by his previous attempts. The men's actions had smacked of malevolent intent.

"Shit." Hutchins muttered as he quickly pulled out his cell phone and punched in several digits.

"Identify." A disembodied voice commanded.

"Hutchins. 4J97."

"Proceed."

"Permission for secured line."

"Designator?"

"Madeline. And hurry, dammit!"

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

"We have a problem."

Madeline rushed towards Birkoff's workstation, where he, Operations, Michael, and Toni were studying a sim.

"What sort of problem." Operations straightened immediately, snapping into command mode at the urgency of her arrival.

Madeline's dark gaze slid to Michael for a brief moment, then settled on Section's formidable leader. "Two men were seen breaking into Michael's loft a few minutes ago. I believe Nikita may be in imminent contact with her father's people or a more hostile entity."

Though her chilling words elicited a gasp of shock from Toni, Michael's only response was a deceptive flicker of his gray-green eyes. "How do you know this?"

Lifting her chin slightly, Madeline's eyes remained focused on Operations. "As a precautionary measure, I've had Hutchins shadowing her."

Operations whole face turned a bright red and his next words expelled from his hard lips in an angry spurt. "On who's authority?"

"We don't have time to argue." Madeline dared a glance in Michael's direction.

Though he said nothing about her unauthorized invasion on his wife's privacy, the hard glint of Michael's stare foretold of a sure confrontation about her deceitful tactics in the immediate future. Instead, he turned to leave and Toni, knowing exactly where he was going, made to follow.

"Michael!"

Operations sharp bark halted their progress. Michael turned impatiently and faced his superior. "Yes?"

"Whatever is happening or is about to happen, you'll never make it there in time to stop it."

"I need to be there."

"I understand your concern. But I want you to stay here until we hear from Hutchins." Operations ordered brusquely and then turned to Madeline. "What's the situation?"

"I'm not sure." Madeline revealed uneasily. "Hutchins' was only on routine surveillance, so he wasn't equipped with a com unit. He went in shortly after he explained the situation and I've dispatched a three man backup team."

Operations snorted in disgust. "More bungling on your part. Since you had him tailing her, you should have planned for all contingencies."

"Hutchins is an excellent operative. I'm sure he can contain the situation."

"He'd better. He's not the only one facing cancellation if he fails."

Michael paced slowly, his hand covering his mouth and his eyes fixed on the floor. Operations blocked his path as he moved in front of him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The look Michael gave him was closed and unreadable, one meant to mask the inner chaos he was feeling. Operations fully intended to treat this emergency following the protocol and procedures he would normally use, but he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the younger man.

"I'm sorry, Michael." He squeezed the broad shoulder beneath his hand. "All we can do now is wait.

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

Cursing himself for not bringing more fire power on what should have been a simple surveillance job, Hutchins raced quietly up the flight of backstairs leading to Michael's third floor loft. Madeline had informed him she was sending a backup team, but he knew they would never make it there in time.

The life of Michael's wife rested firmly in his hands now and he prayed fervently for strength as he quietly slipped through the door leading out of the stairwell. He didn't want to have to return to Section and inform Michael that he'd failed. Might as well plug himself with a bullet in that event.

How long had it been since the men had entered the building before himself? Five, ten minutes? Maybe more. Hutchins paused for a moment and listened. All was quiet. He skulked down a short hallway past an elevator and turned a corner. Ahead of him on the right was the apartment and Hutchin's heart lurched at the sight he beheld.

The front door of the loft was ajar, hanging slightly off its hinges. He rushed forward, gun drawn, and jerked slightly when he heard a muffled crash and a feminine cry of alarm.

Hutchins pressed his back along the wall and shuffled cautiously to the door. He angled his head around the frame and looked inside, his eyes widening at the scene before him.

Sprawled close to the doorway was the body of one of the hostiles. A red spot decorated his forehead and his ugly black eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.

A few feet away, Nikita and the other assailant lay struggling on the floor, each punching and clawing at the other with one hand as they stretched out an arm in an effort to reach a gun that lay mere inches from their fingertips.

Hutchins first thought was to put a bullet through the man, who now had a handful of Nikita's long blond hair, but he paused in surprise as he realized that not only was she holding her own with her opponent, but she was beginning to overtake him.

With swift agility, Nikita freed one leg and brought it upward, smashing her knee into the exposed groin of her adversary. The man expelled a loud bellow and was caught off guard momentarily. His lapse provided Nikita with another opening as she cocked her elbow and rammed it upward into his chin.

A second later, she grasped the gun and jammed the silencer into the man's temple, effectively stilling his wrangling.

Warily, Nikita disengaged herself from the man, the gun trembling in her hand as she stood on shaky feet, chest heaving rapidly. Her shirt was torn and her nose and lip were bleeding, her hair a tangled mess about her face and shoulders.

The man stared at her, his body still prone as he waited bravely for whatever it was Nikita was about to do. Hutchins was about to intervene when she finally spoke.

"Who do you work for?"

Hutchins brows knitted in vexation at the question. Why even question him at all? She should have been running to the phone to call the police by now. Her growing calmness in light of such a remarkably violent situation made Hutchins maintain his hidden position outside the door.

"I was supposed to bring you in alive." The man told her in a heavily accented voice that was difficult to place. "I think I will enjoy snapping your neck instead."

Nikita wiped her nose with the back of her hand and smeared the blood on her slacks. Her beautiful, sapphire eyes had grown cold and fierce. "I asked you a question."

"Go to hell, bitch!" The man laughed her off.

Nikita's aim lowered and without hesitation, she pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through his kneecap. The man howled in pain as he brought his leg up and clutched it weakly, just under the wound.

Hutchins jerked in shock at her actions. Half an hour ago she'd been a cute little newlywed housewife. Now she resembled an avenging Valkyrie, standing over the writhing man, bruised and bloodied, a menacing gun positioned comfortably in her hand.

"Now let's try it again." Nikita gingerly touched her swollen lip as she returned the gun's aim to the man's head. "Who do you work for?"

Sweating profusely and grunting in pain, the man lay back, gingerly stretching out his wounded knee. His coal-hued eyes leveled her with a defiant look. "Maybe I'll enjoy your body first and then snap your neck."

Apparently his continued bravado didn't sit well with Nikita. She raised her foot, still encased in a black boot, and brought it down with forced on the man's kneecap, grinding it mercilessly with the three-inch heel.

"You want to tell me now?" Nikita snapped.

"Fuck you!" The man howled.

Sighing and cursing in exasperation, Nikita leaned over the man and grabbed a fistful of his greasy black hair. She deftly yanked his head forward and then slammed it back into the hardwood floor, knocking him out cold.

Unsure of what to do next, Hutchins inched forward a little and watched in fascination as Nikita limped towards the sofa, her back towards him. She grabbed her handbag and began frantically digging around it in, sending a wallet and cosmetics flying out of it with her efforts. Finally, she pulled out a cell phone and pressed it to her ear.

Hutchins straightened, preparing to leave and go report to Madeline, as it appeared Nikita was about to call the authorities. But as he lowered his weapon and took a quiet step backward, her next words caused him to halt and his mouth fell open in surprise.

"This is Nikita. I've been compromised."

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

Waiting to hear from Hutchins was worse than a session in Madeline’s White Room. At least it was for Toni. Not knowing what was happening to Nikita caused her mind to conjure up all sorts of wild scenarios of what could be happening, none of them pretty. As much as she disliked him, Toni would make sure Hutchins received a huge, wet kiss from her if he were to save Nikita’s life.

She looked up to see how Michael was faring and her gaze clashed with that of a curious Birkoff. He hadn’t uttered a word in regards to the astonishing news that Michael had a wife and she was currently in danger from an unknown source. His eyes were bulging a little more than usual behind his trademark geek frames and she could see a jumble of questions on the tip of his candy-coated tongue. Toni shook her head slightly, sending him a silent message that she would fill him in later.

Then her eyes shifted to Michael, who stood quietly next to Birkoff’s station, his arms folded tightly over his chest. Only the grim set of his mouth betrayed the emotional strain he had been under for the last few minutes. Before, both he and Operations had been pacing around the area and each other in apprehension. Operations still paced in front of Michael, while Madeline leaned calmly against a pole.

After what seem like an eternity, a muted pulse broke the deafening silence and a voice droned. “Operations. Incoming call from Hutchins.”

Everyone gravitated as one towards Birkoff’s post. Operations leaned over him and pressed a button on the panel of the desk. “Put him through. Hutchins?”

“Here, sir.”

“Status?”

“The situation’s been contained.” Hutchins reported.

“Where is Nikita?” Michael interrupted impatiently, protocol forgotten in his concern for his wife.

“She’s fine. She’s the one that contained the situation.”

Operations and Madeline exchanged a surprised look before she asked. “How so, Hutchins?”

“She killed one hostile and managed to restrain the other. Then she shot him and preceded to interrogate him.” Hutchins explained further, his voice somewhat dumbfounded.

Toni’s gaze shifted towards Michael again. Although he should have been equally stupefied by Hutchins words, his expression remained as solidly impassive as usual. Toni knew her mouth was hanging open with her own astonishment, and Birkoff’s eyes were now as round as saucers behind his glasses. “Come again?” Operations brow knitted in confusion.

“She’s an operative.” Hutchins expelled the statement with more certainty. “I don’t know who she’s working for. But she’s an operative.”

“That’s impossible.” Michael interjected solemnly as he looked over Birkoff’s head at Operations.

“Of course it’s impossible.” Toni punctuated Michael’s assertion. “This is Nikita we’re talking about.”

Despite the overwhelming evidence Hutchins had just presented, Toni doubted that Nikita could be an operative. When did she have the time? She was far too sweet natured and humane to ever be involved in the kind of grisly work they did.

Then again, when Toni reflected on some of Nikita’s ambiguous statements…

Operations flinty eyes bore into Michael’s as he continued. “Hutchins, are you sure?”

“Positive. She just called someone in. They gave her an ETA of ten minutes.”

“Red Team?”

“Yes, sir?” Droned a voice Toni recognized as Davenport’s.

“Are you on site?”

“Yes, sir. How do you want us to proceed?”

“Hold your position. Hutchins, rendezvous with Red Team and get to a secure location. I want to see who were dealing with.”

“Should I bring her in?”

“Not yet. I don’t want her people to know we’re on to her.”

Operations straightened and directed his full attention to Michael. Toni recognized the grim look clouding his features. She’d seen it aimed at herself many times before. Section’s leader didn’t like anomalies, especially ones that made him and his organization look like inept imbeciles.

“How is this possible, Michael?” Operations demanded.

Toni could almost see Michael inwardly struggling with his emotions as he replied succinctly. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t have any indication that Nikita was an agent?” Operations asked in disbelief, his ire rising.

Toni suppressed a snort, thinking his question was an incredibly stupid one given that Nikita had no idea who she was married to either. Michael was about to answer the asinine query when his cell phone began to ring.

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

Michael pressed his hand against the pocket of his jacket and seemed to hesitate before he pulled out his phone and answered it. A slight fluctuation of his handsome features transformed his blank expression into one of relief. Toni knew instinctively that it was Nikita who was on the other line.

“Actually, I was just about to call you.” Michael was saying as Operations inched closer to him. “I’ll be working late this evening.”

Michael paused as he listened again.

“I’m not sure, Nikita. Probably two or three hours.”

Another pause.

“You sound tense. Are you okay?”

Toni closed her eyes, silently willing Nikita to tell Michael what had just happened to her and that she had called the police. If she lied about Hutchins’ version of what had just transpired, it would surely give merit to their mounting suspicions.

“Alright. I’ll see you this evening.” Michael said, a slight edge to his voice. He flipped the phone closed and replaced it in his pocket.

“She said nothing about the attack?” Operations asked unnecessarily.

“No.” Michael replied, his protective emotional shields slamming into place.

“Then Hutchins was right.” Madeline asserted and Toni could swear she sounded contrite.

“This is unbelievable.” Operations muttered.

“Sir.” Davenport’s voice rang out.

“What is it?” Operations barked in consternation, his hand instinctively gravitating towards the breast pocket of his suit where he kept his cigarettes.

“A moving van has pulled up behind the building. Looks like about six, no seven men are entering the building, dressed in work clothes. What do you want us to do?”

“Hold your positions!” Operations reiterated in exasperation. “Wait until Nikita is alone, then retrieve her.”

“I’ll bring her in.” Michael offered quickly. “She’ll be less likely to resist.”

“You’re too close to the situation.” Operations reminded him as he moved behind Birkoff and clenched his hands over the back of Birkoff’s chair.

Toni knew Operations had to be thinking what she herself was. That if Michael was to go and retrieve his wife, he wouldn’t be returning to Section with her. Most likely, he would run and Toni wondered if Michael had secretly made arrangements in case there was a need for him and Nikita to suddenly disappear.

She wished they could run. What would they do to Nikita once they had her firmly trapped within Section? Would they torture her? Yes, of course they would, and Toni felt fear rapidly rising within her at the thought of them harming Nikita and her unborn child.

Nearly forty minutes later, Davenport reported in again. Apparently, the men were emerging from the building, with Nikita’s attackers possibly hidden in two large crates they had hauled out with them.

“Give us a visual.” Madeline requested.

Birkoff’s fingers rapidly flew over his keyboard and an instant later, an image of the darkened back alley of Michael’s building popped into view. The night vision goggles Davenport wore enhanced the images, and as the view distended, they could clearly make out the faces of several of the men. Two of them moved toward the silver Mercedes, slipped inside, and drove away.

“Birkoff, run a check and see if any of them show up in our database.” Operations ordered.

Toni leaned forward and peered over Michael’s shoulder. She watched the men deposit the crates in the back of the moving van and then climb in behind them. One man in particular caught her attention and she gasped aloud. “It’s him!”

Everyone turned questioning eyes towards her and Toni silently cursed her lack of self-control.

“Him who?” Operations thundered. “Do you recognize one of the men?”

Toni raised quilty eyes to Michael and sighed heavily. There was nothing left to do but confess. “Yeah. Uh, the tall blond guy. He was at the hospital when Nikita was sick. Said he was an associate of her doctor’s.”

“And why didn’t you report this?” Madeline inquired.

“Because there was nothing strange about him.” Toni insisted.

“Is that the only time you’ve seen him?”

Could she get away with another lie? She considered it for a brief moment, but things always had a way of coming back on her in a horrible way. The best thing for her to do was come clean. Partially. Michael would eventually find out the truth anyway.

“Antonia?” Madeline prompted.

Biting her lip, Toni avoided Michael’s piercing eyes as she nodded. “I saw him in the park with Nikita a few days ago.”

“And why didn’t you report that?” Operations wanted to know.

With trepidation, Toni admitted. “I wasn’t sure of the nature of their relationship. And I didn’t think it was any of my business.”

“You report all anomalies, no matter how insignificant they seem!” Operations growled at her.

“Do you think they’re lovers?” Madeline asked, not seeming to care that Michael was standing before them when she voiced such a deeply personal question.

“Does that really matter, Madeline?” Operations snapped, his sympathetic eyes sliding to Michael before it moved back to the screen. “Birkoff?”

“Nothing.” Birkoff pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Only got a good visual on three of them, including the one Toni recognized, and none of them are in our database.”

“Okay, Davenport.” Operations said firmly. “Make sure the area is clean, then bring her in. Do it as quietly and painlessly as possible. I don’t want her harmed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How will you proceed?” Michael asked calmly.

Toni thought he should be yelling and throwing things by now, given that she had just stupidly intimated that his wife might have been having an affair. Then again, this was Michael. He never laid bare his true emotions, no matter what the situation.

“You know how things work around here.” Operations told him. “I want you to go prep for Slovenia.”

“I - “

“No exceptions, Michael. Things go on as usual. Slovenia is key. You’ll leave in the morning as planned. I’ll inform you when Nikita is on site.”

Michael gave his superior what could be called a mutinous look for him before stepping backward and striding towards his office. Toni hesitated for all of one second before hurrying after him, worried about his state of mind.

“Michael.” She called after him as she hurried to catch up. Toni reached his office door just as he closed it firmly in her face.

Unsure of what to do next, Toni stood rooted to the spot until she heard a soft voice behind her.

“Leave him be, Antonia. He has a lot to process.”

Toni turned towards Madeline and she asked aloud the question that had been plaguing her since Operations had given the order to bring Nikita in. “Are you really going to interrogate her?”

“It is normal procedure.”

Toni rubbed a hand over her eyes, agonizing over whether or not to reveal Nikita’s condition. As much as she wanted to respect Michael and Nikita’s limited privacy, she rationalized that now was not the time to keep secrets and she was determined to protect her their innocent child at any cost.

“She’s pregnant, Madeline.” Toni pleaded for leniency with wide, pitiable eyes.

Madeline gave Toni an almost compassionate smile. “I know.”

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

Nikita moaned softly as she sluggishly regained consciousness. Her eyes opened to slits and she shut them quickly against the glaring whiteness of her surroundings. She opened them slowly again, lashes fluttering rapidly as her pupils adjusted to the light. Her head throbbed with a dull headache and her stomach felt queasy, her intermittent morning sickness deciding now was the right time to rear its ugly head.

Her body felt stiff and her muscles protested as she tried to shift in the uncomfortable steel chair she sat in. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the arms and legs of the chair with black metal cuffs and she wriggled them awkwardly as they’d gone numb. Nikita licked her dry lips and opened her eyes fully, looking around the circular white room with foreboding.

She’d been so drained from her exertions with her first two uninvited guests that she had been taken by surprise when her newly repaired front door was broken down again. This time she had surrendered without a fight. Five men were entirely too many for her to ward off on her own. As soon as the tall bald one had secured her hands behind her, someone else had injected her with some sort of sedative.

Now here she was in unknown, menacing surroundings and Nikita could only hope she’d fallen into the right hands. Her thoughts immediately flew to Michael and she wondered where he was at this very moment and what he was thinking. Jesus, he’d be frightened to death once he saw the front door and discovered her missing.

Unless…

She’d thought she was home free once Kiril and his men had come in, sanitized and straightened up the loft, then hauled her attackers off to headquarters for interrogation. He’d ordered her to find another place to live and she’d been in the process of running a shower and trying to the think of a valid reason to convince Michael they needed to move when her new guests had arrived.

Nikita sighed and lowered her head, swallowing hard as the sparse contents of her stomach begin to rise. She was thirsty, hungry, and tired. And sore. Her nose felt twice its normal size and so did her tender lip. More than anything, she was scared. If only she knew whose possession she was in.

If only Michael were here.

The loud creaking of the metal signaled someone’s entrance. Nikita’s heart hammered in her chest as she looked up to see a beautiful, dark-haired woman enter the room. She moved to stand directly in front of Nikita as the door closed behind her and clasped her hands in front of her.

“How are you feeling?” The woman asked with small smile.

Nikita eyed her warily. Her eyes were gentle and her smile friendly, but Nikita had a feeling the woman was not as kind as she appeared.

Licking her lips, Nikita called on every lesson Kiril had taught her and schooled her features to appear as impassive as the other woman’s. “Fine.”

The woman began to circle Nikita slowly, like a vulture waiting for a wounded animal to die. “I know you must feel frightened and a little disoriented. I promise you won’t be hurt if you cooperate with us.”

Nikita inclined her head towards the woman as she passed behind her. “And what if I don’t cooperate?”

“You will.”

Nikita paused a moment as her stomach roiled and when she was sure she wouldn’t retch all over herself, she spoke again. “Before you start your interrogation, can you at least tell me where I am?”

“Would knowing that make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“If I told you I might have to kill you.”

She couldn’t tell by the woman’s tone if the statement was intended as a morbid joke or a dire warning. The threat of death frightened her, but Nikita masked her fear.

Shrugging as nonchalantly as possible, Nikita gave the woman an openly defiant look. “Well, whoever you are, you probably kidnapped me because of my father. And I’d bet money that I’m your only avenue to get to him, so you won’t kill me. At least not yet.”

The woman’s dark eyes crinkled in amusement as she ceased her unnerving orbiting. “Very good, Nikita.”

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I’m Madeline.”

Nikita nodded. “Very nice to meet you, Madeline. Now are you going to tell me where I am and what you want with me?”

“You’re in a place called Section One.”

“Thank God.” Nikita breathed in relief as she closed her eyes.

Madeline raised an eyebrow. “You’re relieved?”

“Of course.” Nikita’s eyes flew open again.

“So I assume you know about us.” Madeline deduced and continued her circling. “How?”