May 16th

1100 hours

Section One

The doors opened to the final hallway leading into Section's mission return area. Key followed beside the gurney, glancing at Michael and at the portable monitors. He had come through the surgery, but had not regained consciousness from the anesthesia. The last metal door opened and as she glanced up from stepping over the threshold, there stood Operations and Madeline. Key stopped and watched as they wheeled Michael down the hall toward a medical bay. She knew she wouldn't be lucky enough to escape without some questions.

"Has he regained consciousness yet?" Operations looked expectant and Key was barely able to contain her disgust. She knew he wanted answers to what happened in the forest. Michael's injuries, Michael's life, none of that stood above the almighty Section.

She managed to contain herself and said quietly, "No, the doctors say it may be several hours."

Operations acknowledged her with a nod, turned and walked swiftly down the hall. Key then directed her attention to Madeline.

"I know you must be exhausted," Madeline paused, "but when you have had time to rest, I would like us to have a visit."

"We can visit now." Key stared hard at Madeline. She looked tired, and.....maybe... could she be concerned about Michael?

A slight smile touched her face, but Key noticed it didn't reach her eyes. "If you wish, but why don't you take time to change clothes....maybe freshen up? I'll send someone for you in.....twenty minutes?"

Key nodded her agreement and wearily took herself down the hall to her quarters. As she stripped out of the dirty, bloody clothes she had put back on after Michael's surgery, Key realized how fatigued she was. This was not a good time to match wits with Madeline, but she had known this show down was coming and wanted to get it over with. A hot shower, short as it was, rejuvenated her body and now all she needed was caffeine to wake up her brain. As she dressed she noticed her jeans were looser and as she pulled on the giant sweatshirt, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and was shocked at how pale and pinched her face looked. She thought about applying some makeup, but she was too tired to care how bad she looked. A knock came at her door just as she finished towel drying her hair.

Quietly she was escorted down several hallways and through one computer area Key didn't even recognize. The operative accompanying her was a nice girl she knew only as Claire. She had assisted her and Birkoff with some of the Chimera time line. As they approached a door at the end of another long hallway, Claire finally spoke.

"I heard Michael was hurt pretty bad." She stopped and looked at Key. "Will he be all right?"

"Yes, I believe so. He lost a lot of blood, but they had a cracker jack medical team waiting to work on him. They did a good job."

Key saw a sign of relief on Claire's face, then the hint of a smile. "Tell him I said to get well fast, he's the only one that can keep Birkoff in line."

"I'll tell him, Claire." Key smiled back at her then turned when she heard the door start to open. Before she could thank her, Claire had hurried away.

Madeline was waiting on her, and as she stepped down into her office, Key was almost blinded by the mix of light combined with metal and glass fixtures.

"Come in, Key." Madeline indicated she join her at a small sitting area in front of her desk. It was almost impossible to not feel like the fly being invited by the spider to jump into her web. "Would you like some hot tea?" She gestured at the tea service.

"I'd love something hot, thank you." She accepted a cup and sat down. "I didn't have a chance to check on Michael, has there been any change?"

Madeline nodded to a screen on her desk, pushed a button, and there was the medical bay....and Michael. "No change. He is still unconscious, but stable." She left the screen on and joined Key, sitting down across from her. "The doctors complimented you on your composure in light of the seriousness of Michael's situation." She paused to sip her tea, then continued, "They seemed to believe your presence was essential to his willingness to fight for his life."

Key looked up from her cup, gazed directly at her and wondered if there was some trick to that statement. "What's your point Madeline?" She said smoothly with a hint of challenge in her voice.

There was silence for a long moment as they scrutinized each other.

"I'm not sure there is a point, Key." Her stillness and detached attitude reminded Key that Michael had learned it from the best. "I would like you to ask yourself if you think, for any reason, Michael lost his focus during this mission."

Key almost forgot to breathe, but she recovered quickly. "Are you suggesting I distracted Michael with my presence and that's what almost got him killed?" She asked incredulously. "No.....don't answer that." Her distaste was obvious as she got up. "You know I came here with the forethought you were going to play devil's advocate about something." Key paced around behind the chair she had been sitting in. "I just wasn't sure what it would be about. Now I think I know."

Madeline raised a questioning eyebrow, and remained quiet as she considered Key's statement. She watched as Key went to the screen still displaying a view of Michael in the Medbay. She also observed the gentle way Key ran her fingers across the top and down the side of the screen. Then she replied, "Michael won't ever be free of Section. His life is here....planning and executing missions. I think you understand that, Key." She had paused between each statement creating an air of finality.

Key returned to her chair, sat down just on the edge, with her legs spread and her elbows on her knees. She was hunched forward with her hands clasped tightly, looking down at first. When she raised her eyes to meet Madeline's, she said, "Michael didn't loose his focus during this mission, he wasn't distracted by my presence. I suspect what happened in that forest is the teams ran into a group of terrorists who planned on being more cold-blooded and ruthless than they are. Chimera knew Section was running the exchange. Thomas even mentioned Section during our conversation." She paused and straightened up in her seat, still maintaining eye contact. "What worries me is Michael placed himself in unnecessary danger going off on his own. He knew Team three had been compromised. I don't think he cares anymore." She couldn't stop those stupid tears again and as her eyes filled with them, she continued, "He doesn't care if he lives or dies. You've asked him......expected him" she corrected, "to do ugly, unspeakable things in the name of justice." She blinked and the tears rolled down her face. She brushed them aside angrily; "There's nothing for him to care about but the results of the mission. If things fail to happen as planned, it's his fault. If things go well, you just ask for more. A human being can only go on like that for so long before they start to.....die inside."

It was so quiet in that room, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. After another long pause, Madeline shifted in her chair, then poured them both one more cup of tea. As she handed Key her cup, she said, "You may choose to stay here with us and enter a modified training program designed to ultimately help you fill a position similar to Birkoff's.......or we can notify the US Marshall's office where and when to retrieve you."

Key went totally numb. You could have smacked her in the face and she wouldn't have felt it. Madeline sure could shift gears when she wanted to avoid commenting on something. "I actually have a choice?" She cleared her throat. "I don't understand."

"It is time for you to make a decision about your future." She paused, "Do you want to return to the Marshall's jurisdiction or do you want to remain with us?"

Key set her cup down, looked at Madeline, then at the view of Michael. "Do I make that decision now, here....with you?" She turned and looked back at Madeline, "Or do I have time to consider things, maybe ask questions?"

"I can't help you with any answers about your life if you choose to go back into witness protection." Madeline inclined her head and looked thoughtful, "As to life here at Section, I can tell you that you'll be held to Section standards, will not be given any special treatment due to your circumstances, and you'll forfeit your option to be free to leave."

Another long pause pervaded the room.

"Who will train me?"

"I will." Quiet again enveloped the room, and then Madeline set her cup down and rose from her seat. "I think you should take some time to consider all of this, but let me make a few points before you leave." Madeline walked around her desk and turned off the screen to the Medbay, then she began, "Emotion is a weakness that can be exploited, and some relationships between operatives have been not only dangerous distractions, they have proved to be disruptive enough to be fatal." She regarded Key with that unreadable stare. "Michael knows that every mission could be his last. That is how we are all trained. Some of the things our operatives are required to do are unpleasant, some require betrayals that go against everything we believe." She paused to let that sink in, "But any mission is always about how to preserve the greater good, and how we can save the most innocent lives." She sat down behind her desk this time; "I'll need your answer upon completion of the Chimera mission."

Key stood up. She knew when she was being dismissed. Her thoughts were racing in different directions, and she needed to sort them out. She wanted to talk to Michael, but she thought she knew what he would say. "I'll give this my every consideration."

Madeline nodded, and Key turned to leave. "I have someone waiting to take you to Michael." The door opened and when she paused to look back, Madeline was already busy with something on her computer.

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

Same day

1300 hours

As she walked into the Medlab, the antiseptic smell stung her nose and brought back unpleasant memories. She shut down that thought and concentrated on Michael. He was still unconscious, but apparently resting. The monitor indicated a steady, strong heart rate, and his color had improved from a pasty white to a much healthier pink color. As she stood by the bed looking at him, the hand of "dread" gripped her heart because after her conversation with Madeline, she knew what Michael's answer would be if she asked his opinion about her staying at Section. He would tell her to go, to run, to forget him and this whole experience, be free, and have a life...... What she really needed was to get some rest. No way could she make an important decision without some sleep. Trouble was, she wanted to be here when Michael woke up and there was no where to sit or lie down. After looking around the room and considering her options, she kicked off her shoes, stripped out of her blue jeans and climbed up on the hospital bed. She had worn Michael's sweatshirt, had never given it back to him. It came nearly to her knees, it was warm, and in some odd way it made her feel safe....secure.

Michael had turned onto his good side while he slept, so Key pressed herself up against his back, fitting there like she belonged. She was warm, comfortable, relaxed, and enveloped with Michael's presence....and she slept.

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

Same day

1700 hours

Michael came to slowly, like he was gliding through a fog. The pain was the first thing he was aware of, but it was tolerable. What brought him to reality was the body of warmth against his back, the arm threaded under his and the small hand resting on his chest. "Key." He whispered. He knew they were in a Section Medbay, but had no idea what day it was or the time. The last thing he remembered was Key's face glistening with tears while she watched him go under the anesthesia. He gently took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissed the palm, then brought it back flat against his chest covered with his hand. She stirred from the movement, woke suddenly, but in consideration of his wound, moved away from his back slowly. Michael released her hand as she shifted over and he turned onto his back, searching hungrily for a glimpse of her face. She started to leave the bed and he stopped her.

"No, please stay." His voice was raspy, he was thirsty and he had a lot of questions, but all he wanted to do was look at her. She leaned over him and he saw her hair was a tousled mess of curls, her eyes were sleepy and such a dark violet color, cheeks were flush against the paleness of her face and lips that also stood out pink, trembling now as she focused on him.

"Michael, you're finally awake." The relief in her voice was evident, and she reached out her hand to touch him, almost like she didn't believe he was there.

"I'll be okay. No need to worry anymore." He paused to swallow and felt his hip start to throb, before he continued, "You're not injured?"

"No, I'm fine." She managed a smile. "Just so tired. I didn't want to leave before you woke up." She stopped, looked around the Medbay then back at him. "I hoped to delay Madeline or Operations from pouncing on you with a bunch of questions."

"Debrief. That's part of my job."

"I don't care if it is, you almost lost your life." She stopped, dropped her eyes to her hand as she smoothed it down his arm. "We lost eight operatives, that was enough."

"We underestimated them. They had out twice the numbers. The ambush came from above." Michael stopped and coughed, his throat was dry.

Key slipped from the bed, and walked around to the table nearby for some water. Michael watched, amused at her appearance in his huge sweatshirt, bare legs and feet clearly visible, as she padded back to the bed and offered him a drink. He accepted gratefully, then began again, "They were hiding up in the trees and dropped down on Team three almost immediately. The other half of Team one and Team two were thrown off guard by the way they found the others tied........" He stopped, held her gaze, noted her distress and continued; "There was no way we could have been more prepared. Absolutely nothing in the profile about Chimera suggested they would use those kind of resources for a hostage exchange."

Key looked away, "What they did was vicious....merciless." When she turned back, her eyes had changed and he could now see her anger, bright and hot. "They knew we were from Section. Thomas knew, so they all knew."

Michael motioned for her to return to the bed beside him. She climbed up, careful of his hip again. "It's over for now, Key, we will be ready for them next time." She dropped her head on to his shoulder. "Don't loose sight of our ultimate objective. We can track Thomas now and that means we can stop Chimera." His fingers threaded through her mass of curls, soothing her.

Key knew he was tiring quickly and had not intended for him to hash this out so soon. She raised her head and switched the subject. "I meant what I said on the plane." Then she watched his eyes change, soften just the slightest.

"I know you did, and we should......"

He didn't complete what he was saying as the door to the medbay opened and in walked Walter, Tallie and Birkoff, obviously just having returned. Amongst all the confusion and expressions of relief that Michael was okay, Key extracted herself from the bed. She retrieved her jeans and shoes, put them on, and then was directed out of the room with everyone else by one of the doctors wanting to examine Michael. There would be time for them to talk, later, when he was stronger.

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

After taking some good-natured kidding about her brazen confrontation with Operations, Walter and Tallie left to go eat. Birkoff stayed behind and Key could tell he needed her for something.

"What is it Birkoff? Are you mad at me for threatening to shoot you?" She smiled because she knew he wasn't.

He took her arm and started to walk slowly and speak softly, "Key, we have to go to Michael's office, there's something we need to do."

She nodded for him to lead the way. When they reached the office, they went in and Birkoff shut the door. "What's so....." she started to say, and Birkoff held up his hand to silence her. He moved behind Michael's desk, reached for the electronic panel on the right and punched in a code, then he looked up relieved.

"I have to turn off this message Michael had set up to go to the Marshall's office." He looked so serious, she didn't have the heart to tell him that Madeline had already notified the Marshall's office, or so she thought. "I don't have to stop it. Michael wanted me to ask you before I did anything."

"You can stop it." She stood quietly while Birkoff entered something on Michael's computer that ended the program.

When he finished, he looked up and asked, "Does this mean you want to stay here?" She could see he wished she would say yes.

"I'm committed until this Chimera thing is over," her slight smile grew as she suggested, "Let's go eat, I'm starving, then I want to sleep for the next twenty four hours."

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

Three weeks went by and there had been no time for Key or Michael to discuss anything personal. Key found herself solely responsible for tracking Thomas. Medical managed to hold Michael for ten days, and they would only release him if he agreed to temporary quarters at Section. Key saw him very little that first week and a half. Madeline kept her busy with reports, information and communication with the operatives physically monitoring Thomas. The time she did see him he was either asleep, grumbling because no one would bring him a laptop, or quizzing her about Thomas and his movements. Once Michael was out of Medical, Madeline turned over the coordination of the Chimera mission once again to him. The approaching full moon had them both anxious. The information gathered so far had placed Thomas no where they considered suspicious. He had a favorite grocery, bookstore, bar and girlfriend. His residence was a boarding house. Thomas was either living modestly because of finances or to stay inconspicuous. They had found nothing to connect him to Chimera yet and he had made no banking arrangements, personally or on behalf of Chimera. Essentially they were playing the waiting game.

June 8th

1100 hours

Computer staging area

"Michael," Key spoke into her com-set. "I've been looking at the dates of these full moon Chimera activities and only two percent of them occurred on weekdays."

In his office, Michael was pouring over all the operative surveillance reports on Thomas for at least the third time, looking for any anomalies. Key's voice snapped his concentration and.....his patience. "And your point would be?" He responded rudely, his words clipped and sharper than normal.

She sat back in her chair and thought about his question, or......more precisely about how he responded. His usual cool detachment went away somewhere and she couldn't resist pushing, "You figure it out Michael. I'm going to ride my horse." She pulled her com-set off, slammed it down on her station, and then looked over at Birkoff with a big smile. He appeared surprised, but she knew he had over heard her. When she exited the staging area, she turned around and winked at him.

Michael pushed away from his desk. His frustration was growing and he needed a release. He wasn't regaining his strength quick enough to go to the gym and work it out. Madeline was expecting him in forty five minutes, he needed to have a serious conversation with Key and he wanted to shut down Chimera so he could end this mission........or, did he want what the end of the mission would bring? With that as food for thought, he reached for his crutches and went to find Key.

She was giving her watchdogs a heck of a time. Working D.B. in the arena wasn't what she needed. She wanted a long breezing gallop and that was what she got. Thank goodness Tallie had been there when she arrived at the stable. She explained exactly how she was going to traverse the adjoining field, at least directionally, and promised not to deviate from that course. What she failed to mention was at what speed she would be traveling.

Michael arrived and found the arena empty. Then following the sound of laughter, he rounded the side of the stable and found Tallie waving at two operatives to come in from the field. As he pulled himself up to the fence on his crutches, he saw they had originally tried to stay with Key and her crazy horse while they were on foot.

"Tallie, what is going on?" Michael gave him his best "serious Section" look.

"Michael," He turned still smiling, "Hey, you look good for having been almost toast three weeks ago." Then he gestured to the field. "Key wanted a chance to blow off some steam and those guys were trying to shadow her on foot." He chuckled, "Didn't think she was going to do the Kentucky Derby out there, so I called them back in."

Michael looked at him, then out to the field where he could see Key blended into that horse like they were one and he almost expected to see them sprout wings and fly.

"She's being careless, again. Just like she was at the Chimera meet." The disapproval was clear in his voice. He was still watching her, only now he was rubbing the back of his fingers across his mouth and chin. It was a Michael thing.

"Hey man, she hasn't had any formal training. She acted on instinct in that forest." Tallie looked at him purposefully, "She saved your life." He turned from the fence as the other two operatives arrived out of breath. "Do you want us to stay?"

"No." He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with the figure in the field.

He managed to open and maneuver through the gate. Then he started the slow, lumbering process of moving out into the lush pasture. Michael knew the moment she spotted him. She reined in the horse and started toward him at a much more sedate pace. He was tiring, and he silently cursed his physical weakness, as he finally came to a stop. Key dismounted some distance away, stripped D.B's tack and turned him loose to graze. She approached him, head held high, hair a tangled mess, and he noticed she was sporting a saucy "don't mess with me" look in her eyes.

"If you came all the way out here to scold me or yell at me, or snap........"

"I came out her to thank you for saving my life." He watched her steadily as her mood shifted visibly in her eyes.

She dropped the saddle and bridle on the ground, looked at him and said, "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Don't be a smart ass," a smile threatened to tug at his mouth, "Tallie just reminded me to not be one."

Key stepped closer, looking more serious she asked, "Is this a private meeting?" She sounded a little sarcastic. "No one is listening or monitoring us?"

Michael pulled his cell phone from his pocket and held it up. "This is the only electronic device I have."

She grabbed it and flung the phone some distance into the field. Michael just shook his head in disbelief. "It will ring before we're done here and I'll go find it then." She stated as a matter of fact, then stepped closer. "So why don't you thank me properly?"

He let the crutches drop to the ground as he reached out to lock his right hand with hers and draw her near. Then he lightly brushed the back of his left hand across her cheek before sliding that same hand under her hair to cradle the back of her head. Michael drew Key up to him snugly, leaving no question as to who was in charge. Then as he watched her eyes darken to purple, the tip of her tongue sweep deliciously across her bottom lip, Michael felt a passion unlike any he had felt before. He moved to taste her, brushing her lips softly with his......once, twice, then pressing deeper he tasted her with his tongue. They both seemed to leap into the flame at the same time, closing their eyes, clinging harder to one another and loosing themselves to the force of feelings buried so long.....in fear and...shame.

They broke away from the kiss out of necessity. Both of them needed to breathe. Michael gestured for them to sit down in the grass and Key remembered he was probably still sore and weak. They sat facing each other hip to hip, silently, quietly, giving themselves time to absorb the moment. Michael, consciously or unconsciously, began drawing his fingers around and across the palm of her right hand, following the movement with his eyes.

A chill of desire scurried up her spine and reluctantly she broke the quiet, "Madeline spoke with me about my future....after the mission is complete."

Michael's head snapped up as he asked, "When?"

Key grasped his hand, stopped him from pulling away. "Right after we arrived back from the hostage exchange......" She looked down to escape the intensity and suspicion in his eyes. "I think they've known I was here from the beginning.......the Marshall's office, that is." She glanced back up and noticed Michael had shut the door. The blank stare was back.

He blinked slowly, the luminous green of his eyes shadowed now to gray as he spoke, "And what was her offer?"

"Go back to witness protection or stay at Section One.......permanently."

He was gripping her hand now, as he looked away and said, "She told you, you would be trained to become the equivalent to Birkoff, and.......you would be her material."

"My god, were you in the room?" She couldn't hide her surprise.

He turned to look at her now with intensity. "She then reminded you how dangerous emotional attachments are in Section and she implied strongly that your presence would cause me to be careless, less focused...."

"Michael, how do you know all........"

He ignored her and finished, "She suggested that you were a distraction and that was what almost got me killed." The tone of his voice never wavered, remained steady, "If I was Madeline, and I did not want you to choose to stay," his look now was cold, "that's exactly what I would tell you."

The ensuing silence was disrupted only by the sound of the gate Michael had not latched, clanking against the fence post. The wind had picked up, and her hair was starting to blow about making the wild curls wilder. He released her hand and she drew her knees up, hugging them tightly to her chest and thinking how best to say what was on her mind.

"I won't stay if this is going to cause you a problem with your status here and I won't stay if my presence would ever remotely place you in danger." She quickly added, "But I also won't let them manipulate me into leaving."

Michael appeared to be a thousand miles away, but he brought himself back and leveled a narrow look her direction and said, "If you stay, you'll get used to being manipulated."

The huge question screaming in her head was, "Do you want me to stay?" But she wouldn't dare place that decision at his feet. What small amount of connection they had was way too fragile for that question now.

"I have to go." He said looking at his watch.

She jumped up and gathered his crutches, holding them while she helped him up. The stupid cell phone started to ring, just as she predicted and she fetched that, too, handing it over as he was straightening his jacket.

He flipped the phone open and answered, "Yes." a pause, "yes." another pause, "I'm on my way." Then he slipped the phone in his pocket and looked at her. She was trying desperately to comb some of the tangles from her hair with her fingers, all the while staring down at her feet, shuffling and poking at a large rock in the ground. The door to that other part of him clicked open......narrowly.

"Key." She looked up, saw the hardness leave his eyes for a moment, "You distract me, but not in any way that endangers my life. And if you stay, you'll not cause me a problem with my status here." Key watched him blink then swallow, "You decide to stay here only because it is what you want."

He turned to leave and she called his name, went up to him and placed her hand over his heart. She gave him another look that made him swallow.....hard, and then she said, "I promise."

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

1200 hours

Same day

Imagine what it would feel like to have been cruising along in first gear hiding your feelings for someone, then shifting suddenly into fourth gear (wanting ultimately to hit fifth gear) and almost in a heartbeat having to shift back to first gear. That was exactly how Michael felt, unfortunately he was no stranger to that feeling and he was pretty darn good at shifting into first.

He didn't know precisely what Madeline wanted, but he never really expected to know. Meeting with her was usually a new experience. He was sure this wouldn't be any different. After supplying the code, the door to her office opened and he stepped down, maneuvering carefully with his crutches. Madeline looked up from behind her desk and welcomed him with one of her rare smiles.

"Come in Michael." He seated himself in front of her desk and leaned the crutches against the edge. "I trust your strength is improving."

"Yes." He answered. "I'm tiring less quickly each day."

"I'm glad." She looked at him and inclined her head, "Where are we with Chimera?"

"The substance we used to mark Thomas has remained viable and we are still receiving a strong signal. We are gathering some Intel on places he seems to frequent." He paused. "Miss Yager shows only two percent of the Chimera actions have occurred on week days, which would seem to rule out an occurrence this week."

Madeline was quiet for a moment before she began. "We've offered Miss Yager a choice of remaining here with us or returning to the US Marshall's protection."

Michael remained silent. His eyes wandered to the screen behind Madeline, then back to her as he said, "The Marshall's office has known all along that Miss Yager has been here." His statement hung in the air, not as a question.

"That is correct." Madeline responded. "Operations felt it best to contact them."

"Is there anything else I need to know regarding Miss Yager?" Michael locked eyes with her.

"I have asked for her decision by the time we reach mission completion." Madeline straightened up in her chair before continuing. "She has grown quite fond of you Michael."

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

Madeline leaned forward, elbows on her desk, resting her chin against one hand. "You have been with us long enough to know how dangerous intimate relationships can be within Section."

Michael raised an eyebrow, knew she was referring to Simone, specifically, and probably Nikita. If there was a way to stick the knife in and give it a twist, Madeline was right on target. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that Miss Yager would not be considered for 'cold operative' status." He stopped, shifted forward some in his chair, initiating a more intense look, "If that's the case, then I fail to see the danger, or......more likely.....the comparison to Simone or Nikita........unless....." He paused again.

"Unless what Michael?" Madeline remained cool and relaxed.

"Unless you intend to use her in some way to punish me." He had her attention now, he noticed, so he plunged ahead, "I know, for certain, Operations had knowledge of Simone's survival the first time I thought she died." He let that sink in. "And as for Nikita," he paused, that pain was still fresh. "You knew all along she was alive for that six months she was out of Section."

The room fell silent, except for the low hum of the computer equipment. Madeline got up from her chair, turned and changed the visual on the back screen from a map, to a soothing picture of the ocean.

"At no point, Michael, can we allow anyone to take precedence over our loyalty to Section." She turned, "I believe in both the situations you mentioned, things turned out for the best. You're no stranger to the manipulations we employ here to keep things in order."

"No, I'm not." He said, half in a whisper.

"I see Miss Yager's talents as a great asset to Section. Operations agrees." She was walking now from behind her desk, pacing around behind his seat, "But can you conduct a relationship with her and not have that interfere with either of your loyalties? That's a question I find I can't answer....yet. Until I can, I will consider any liaison with her as dangerous." She stopped beside his chair. "From what I have observed already, a dalliance with this woman is out of the question for you."

Michael stood up and reached for his crutches, once in position, he met her eye to eye, " I have command of my emotions and you know I produce results for this organization....with no exceptions." He blinked slowly, steadied his look even more, "Why don't you give the two of us an opportunity to explore this between now and End Game. If I feel that her loyalty or......mine... is being compromised, I'll make sure she leaves after this mission with no doubt I am the devil." He moved back and turned to leave.

"Don't force me to step in and fix this if you loose control of the situation, Michael."

He didn't stop his progress from her office and he didn't acknowledge her statement. But he did hear her, loud and clear.

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

0300
Section One

Key jerked awake suddenly, startled, scrambling to get out of bed. The warning buzzer and red light by her door were activated. She almost fell on the floor she was so tangled in the bed sheets. After managing to get up, she went and opened the door to her quarters, looking out for any movement. Nothing. Then she heard a door open down the hall and she saw Michael emerge. He was making a serious attempt to pull on a shirt over his head and still hang on to his crutches. She ducked back into her room and grabbed a denim shirt to put on over her undershirt. The flannel pajama pants she had on would just have to do for now. Then she rushed out to join him.

"What's going on Michael?" She asked as she ran to catch up with him swinging down the hall on those damn crutches. "It's not Chimera, surely they didn't....."

"No. It's Tallie calling in. I sent him on over to Dublin yesterday." He looked at her and continued, "He has Intel that couldn't wait, most likely."

As they reached the quarters exit door, she buzzed them through and asked at the same time, "I haven't had a chance to ask how your meeting was with Madeline the other day?"

He was quiet as they progressed down the hall, then right before they reached Systems, he stopped, "Right now, to the eyes and ears of everyone," he paused and fixed her with a warning look, "we are focused on this mission."

"Went that well, did it?" She barely concealed her sarcasm. "My poker face is just as good as yours, so don't worry." Key started to turn and enter the glass-enclosed staging area.

Michael grasped her upper arm, commanding her attention. "It is not your expressions I am worried about, it is that sharp, insolent tongue of yours. Don't let it get you in trouble." He warned.

They entered the fray. Birkoff was typing furiously and Walter was observing something on another screen over the shoulder of one of the tech assistants. Then Key looked up and saw Operations coming down the hall dressed in a jogging suit and appearing as though his sleep had been disturbed.

"What do you have Birkoff?" Michael asked as Operations entered and stepped down into the area.

"I have an incoming from Tallie. He coordinated a surveillance on Thomas that took a team from Dublin to Liverpool......a shipyard." He looked up from his screen; "I'll let him explain."

Tallie appeared on the monitor looking serious and tired. "Sorry to get you guys up at such an hour, but I thought this movement looked important."

"Everyone is here, Tallie, proceed." Operations ordered.

"Last evening, I had two cells physically tailing Thomas. They followed him across the channel to a shipyard in Liverpool. Part of this yard is closed down and used as a grave yard for military ships." He paused, "Birkoff has the schematic to the closed section of the yard. I thought we might need it if they try and meet there again." Birkoff pointed to the screen Walter had been looking at and then to one of the video monitors that displayed the layout.

"We knew something big was happening when a black limo met O'Neil. Both cells followed without detection and set up a perimeter observation once they reached the shipyard. There were three individuals, including O'Neil, that exited the limo. One more vehicle pulled in and two more individuals joined them. The five walked into one of the abandoned buildings. They deployed a tight security team; we made visual ID of at least ten armed hostiles. In order to stay undetected, we could not get close enough for any of our audio equipment to function. It was too dark to capture any images for referencing." He paused to gather himself and continue, "The meeting lasted three hours and I started to break protocol and send one operative to shadow each of the four unknowns, but I was concerned if someone was breached, we would be unable to contain the damage." Tallie stopped at this point, for questions, comments.....or to maybe get yelled at.

"You acted correctly and I'll do something to help you with the next surveillance situation. " Operations responded.

Michael was the only one at that precise moment to notice Key had taken a seat, and looked like she had seen a ghost. He turned to her and gripping his crutches he squatted in front of her. "Key, what is it? What did you hear.....or see that disturbed you?"

She whispered, "The Five."

"What do you mean, 'the five'?"

She looked at him; her eyes were huge and dark. She whispered again, "Finance, Technology, Personnel, Intelligence, and ......probably the head honcho." She blinked, then finally came back to earth and made sense. "Those were the planners, the organizers for whatever they are going to do. I heard them referred to that way, only once, but it made an impact on me."

"Heard about them, where?" He asked.

She looked up now at Operations, and he had turned his attention to her and Michael. "Ask him. He knows." She nodded his direction.

"What Miss Yager says is true. 'The Five.' They have remained unidentified to this point." He tapped his finger on his chin. " Now we know the identity of one of them. Mr. O'Neil has obviously gained some importance. We stop these people and we paralyze the IRA, at least for a period of time. Maybe time enough for Britain and Ireland to do more than talk about peace." He returned his attention to Tallie. "You can expect reinforcements. I want a substation established and responsible only for the coordination of this mission. Locate an acceptable facility and be ready to receive and house thirty operatives."

"I have a place in mind." Tallie said. "When and who should I expect?"

"Michael will be coming in as primary, he will need you as second. I'm sending Walter and Birkoff for obvious reasons." His eyes swept the room and came to rest on Key. "Miss Yager will be along to help Birkoff compile the vast amount of data we will need to get ahead of these people, plus she may prove to be a valuable asset in evaluating Mr. O'Neil and his movements. The time of arrival is strictly related to how quickly Michael puts things together." Operations turned, nodded at Michael, then left.

Michael went into mission mode immediately. "Birkoff, get your inventory together as quickly as you can. Prepare for at least a sixty day stay." He turned to Walter, "Place two of the vans on priority for this mission, check them out personally, and coordinate transport." As soon as Walter headed off, he sat down in front of the monitor displaying Tallie's image. "Tallie, you'll be choosing the other twenty six operatives. I'm down loading a pool for you to pick from. Make ten of your choices from abeyance." He paused and looked at the screen. "Any questions?"

"How long?"

"I want your list in an hour. You know what to look for."

"It'll be there. Have a good trip." Then he signed off.

Michael stood and turned to Key. "You spend the next two hours coming up with a list of possible identities for the four unknowns from O'Neil's meeting."

"I don't have clearance to look at the necess........."She didn't get to finish.

He leaned forward, braced his hands on the chair arms, looked at her with those piercing green eyes and said almost in a whisper, "You do now." He continued to stare at her, his voice changing and sending a raw feeling to her gut, "You need to find out if Section One is where you want to be. I'm going to help you decide. This is as crucial of a mission as you'll ever be required to participate in. Pay attention and follow orders." Michael straightened up and left the staging area for his office. Key followed him out the glass sliding doors.

"Michael." He turned at the sound of her voice; "I can do this."

He looked down at his crutches, then back up at her face. "I know you can." His training was screaming for him to push her away, to say hurtful things, but this was one time he wanted to be different. "Make your observations, Key. Ask me questions, and I'll try to answer you.....if I can. But make no mistake, I will send you back here if I see this is not working."

Quietly she asked, "Working for whom? You?...... or me?" She scrutinized him steadily. "Personally or professionally?"

"This will be an experiment, a test. There is no multiple choice, no true or false ..... no one correct answer."

"And the final score?" She cocked her head to one side, looking thoughtful. "Is that up to the pupil or the teacher?"

"Both."

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

0600

June 11

Dublin

Key looked at the old school house, approved of the surrounding brick wall. Apparently so did Michael. He also seemed to like the iron gates and the emergency perimeter lighting that Tallie had installed prior to their arrival. Amazingly, the building even had underground power connection and an intact, functional generator. All the things that would make your average spy happy.

She was too exhausted to be happy. A hot bath, a bed, and a chance to close her gritty eyes for eight hours was all she wished for. Then almost as if he read her mind, Tallie started discussing accommodations.

"We should have something resembling barracks set up on the second floor soon. I thought the basement would be best for all the computer equipment. First floor has the kitchen and cafeteria area, plus plenty of room for work out sessions. There are community showers available, except the hot water doesn't last long. Water heater capacity isn't the greatest." He smiled at Key, she knew she was swaying some because she was so tired. "As for you two, Walter and Birkoff, I have some rooms one block down at a bed and breakfast. I thought it might be nice to have somewhere to escape occasionally. Especially after a twelve or fourteen hour day."

Key noticed Michael gave Tallie an odd look before Tallie continued. "Madeline contacted me while you were in route. You guys obviously got things together to leave pretty fast. Anyway she put together credentials for the four of you. You have all been established as historical research scientists visiting from Boston University. Your focus of interest is 12th through 16th century Dublin and the beginning of English rule in this area."

"The Pale." Key responded. "Henry II claimed a small area of Dublin, established the English language, provided leadership and protection. They called the area the Pale."

"Good Key. I was betting you knew your Irish history." Tallie looked over at Michael, "She thought these identities would make it easier for you to move about the community without attracting a lot of attention."

"That's fine." Michael answered. "We should go help Birkoff set up."

"Under control." Tallie gestured down the block, "Why don't you two go check in. Key looks like she could use a hot meal and some down time. I'll send Birkoff and Walter soon. Here's your paperwork."

Michael glanced down at Key and saw the pleading look in her eyes. He took the information and picked up his small duffel bag and said to Tallie, "It is six am. now, I'll return at noon. Have Birkoff get you started on the data we collected, I'll want your input."

"See you in six hours." He turned and went up the steps.

Michael went down the walkway toward the gate. Key followed. He had given up the crutches, and was moving by his own power, limping noticeably at the moment. She kept her mouth shut because..... well it was just instinct.

They reached the B & B and rang for entry. A wonderful older couple met them, welcomed them and showed them their rooms. They did not ask questions or try to engage in any lengthy conversation. Graciously and thoughtfully they provided a tray of hot tea, coffee and muffins.

A sitting room and a bathroom separated her room and Michael's. Key took one look at the big claw footed tub, grabbed fresh clothes and her toiletries, and then disappeared. Michael poured some coffee and took a seat in the huge bay window that over looked the back of the property. He sat so he could stretch out his left leg and hip, keeping his right leg on the floor to support his weight. As he sipped his coffee he thought about the magnitude of this mission. The research and Intel just to identify the other four Chimera organizers was going to be time consuming. Then came planning mission profiles, coordinating logistics, and determining the various outcomes. They would avoid any more surprises like the hostage exchange. Section was not in a position to loose any principal personnel. He heard the water quit running in the bathroom and thought about one person specifically. He had admired her courage from the first beginning.

Michael closed his eyes to the rapidly brightening dawn. His honor was tarnished, and courage wasn't necessary anymore. He just did what he was expected to do. Where his heart was black, hers was still relatively unburdened. Where she had a conscience, his was locked away with all his other feelings. But Key was aware of the drill. That's what made her different. She knew him, knew he had a place where he kept all those emotions hidden. And that frightened him more than he cared to admit.

The door to the bathroom opened and he felt the steam from her bath waft across the room with her scent, a tropical fragrance that evoked the taste and smell of oranges, tangerines and even coconut. He listened as she moved around the room, still didn't open his eyes, felt her look as she focused on him, and knew when she came across the room to stand beside him.

"It's your turn." She announced softly.

He opened his eyes slowly and green collided with that soft amethyst color her eyes turned when she wasn't trying to hide anything. Her hair was damp, curling uncontrollably around her face, and all she had on was an overlarge flannel shirt. Michael watched as she fumbled with the button between her breasts, followed the line of her bare throat, up to her lips and stopped. Watched as she bit her bottom lip and felt the kick of desire as he locked eyes with her again.

"Michael, your self control is making me crazy." The breath she had been holding released in a rush as she continued, "If you don't touch me I am going to scream." She finished in a whisper.

He reached out with one hand and touched her upper thigh, still holding her eyes with his, then lightly made the journey up her hip to her waist. There with gentle pressure he guided her closer as he turned to face her still seated in the window. Now she was standing between his legs, and as he duplicated his touch on her opposite side, trailing fingers of heat, she broke eye contact. Key turned her face upward and sucked in a breath as he pulled her close, parted the shirt and placed his lips against her midriff. Then, as he drew a lazy circle there with his tongue, she moaned and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

Ending his ministrations of that area with the brush of his lips, Michael stood and brought Key off the floor. He lifted her, cupped her buttocks and she instinctually wrapped her legs around his waist.

Their eyes met, pupils dilated with passion. The morning sun caught the red highlights in his hair and formed a halo. Then, as she linked her arms around his neck, he said so softly she almost did not hear him, "Je te veux." (I want you.)

In a hushed whisper and without any hesitation she replied, "Prends moi. Je suis a toi." (Take me. I am yours.) Then she buried her face against his neck as he walked to his room.

The light in the bedroom was muted by the dark blue sheers over the one window. The bed was a beautiful antique cherry four poster. There, on the bed, was a gorgeous handmade quilt depicting scenes of knights on steeds, jousting, and ladies in their fine dresses with fluttering scarves offered as favors. Pillows were piled up near the headboard in abundance. As Michael gently deposited her onto the luxuriant mattress, he never broke their eye contact. Her breathing was coming faster and the heat that pooled in her stomach moved lower as she watched him peel off his turtleneck. Then he slowly unbuttoned his jeans and everything that happened from that moment forward happened in slow motion. He joined her on the bed, sans clothes, and Key could not resist pulling him to her, taking his mouth and exploring the sweet heat with her tongue.

Michael quickly worked open the buttons of her flannel shirt, and once that was accomplished, he broke the kiss and leaned away from her. Then with purpose in his eyes, he lay the shirt open slowly, almost like he was unwrapping a present. He thought she was exquisite, she was a small, delicate package .... very deceiving. Immediately he lowered his head and tasted a rosy peak, lavished it with his tongue. Small sighs escaped her mouth, building her restlessness, and she shifted beneath him.

His attention moved back to her lips, his hunger for her increasing with an urgency he made no effort to control, and as his one hand curled into her hair, the other roamed down her side and gripped her fragile lace underwear and tore them free. Key gasped as Michael followed this by testing her readiness, introducing his fingers to her moist, feminine center.

She froze like a deer caught in headlights. The sensation was so extraordinary, and as Michael positioned himself between her thighs, she murmured, "Please ..... be gentle."

He entered her, penetrated, stretched her with his fullness, and suddenly he met resistance, saw the panic in her eyes. Even as he tried to stop, it was too late, his thrust was true. She cried out softly and Michael went rigid, clinched his eyes shut and in a harsh whisper he said, "Mon Dieu."

The discomfort for Key was only momentary and as her body closed around his reflexively, Michael groaned. He opened his eyes and in the space of only a few moments his look telegraphed a hundred questions and a thousand apologies. She trailed her fingers up from his waist till she gripped his biceps. They were trembling from him straining to keep his full weight off of her. Key took one hand and ran it from his arm across his shoulder to the back of his neck. There she tangled her fingers in his curls and with some pressure brought his mouth to hers, nipped at his lower lip, invited him with her eyes and mouth to complete his possession of her.

Then she moved against him and he was lost. Key experienced a need she had never felt before, clasped his taut buttocks between her thighs and stayed with him matching each thrust, reaching for something she wasn't sure about, yet ...... and just as he buried his face in the soft curve of her neck and shoulder, just as the crescendo was reached by both, Key felt herself contract around him. The force of the explosion, the burst of spasms from him, caused her to break into a thousand pieces of light. They shattered together, and it was as if a new galaxy had been born.

Neither of them could move as they tried to calm their breathing. After a few moments, both their hearts had slowed their pounding and abruptly Michael rolled away from her, sat up on the side of the bed. His frustration was evident as he propped his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. Key could hear him muttering, "merdi ... zut." And basically cursing himself seven ways to Sunday.

She came up on her knees behind him, gathering the flannel shirt around her, so very unsure of what to say or do. The enormity of the situation hit her and she was afraid he would be angry at the responsibility she had unwittingly placed on his shoulders. Wanting to reassure him he'd done nothing she hadn't fully wanted, she reached out and touched his back, rubbed the palm of her hand in circles, as she said, "Michael, it was my virginity. It wasn't like you stole my innocence. I lost that when............" she trailed off as he stood and reached for his jeans, pulled them on hastily and walked out of the bedroom. She followed, buttoning her shirt as she went. He had gone to the tray, was pouring a fresh cup of coffee. Key broke the silence, "Michael, talk to me." She saw him tense immediately.

"Do you want coffee or tea?" He asked.

"Michael." She said with a warning in her voice.

"Coffee or tea?" He turned and fixed her with a stony look.

Exasperated she answered, "Coffee."

He poured coffee for her then walked over to the window seat, gestured for her to join him and handed her one of the cups. Then he took a sip of the hot liquid and fixed her with a serious look. "Why didn't you tell me ..... I was your first?"

"Would it really have made a difference?" She paused, looked down at the steam rising from the mug she held, then brought her eyes back to meet his. "Would that have changed what just happened?"

"Yes." He looked at her and she saw the conflict in his eyes.

"You mean you would not have made love to me?" Key shook her head. "Michael, what happened in there ....." She gestured to the bedroom, "was going to happen. There has been a spark between us threatening to ignite since we first met."

"That's not what I mean." He turned and looked out the window. "I might have spoken with you ... discussed some situations with you." She could see his distress, knew he rarely displayed such emotion. " I can't offer you anything. No future ... nothing ..... you deserve more."

Key set her coffee down and closed the space between them, reaching, turning his face to hers, "Why don't you let me be the judge of what I deserve. Stop thinking so much, quit analyzing everything and open the door to whatever happens." Gently she traced his lips with a fingertip. "If you're worried about hurting me........"

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, "Listen to me," his voice was low and even, "I could never marry you," she looked down and he immediately used his other hand to bring her face back up to meet his eyes. "There will never be any children...... and I will always be expected to do whatever it takes to complete a mission, including......" she closed her eyes, knew what he would say, "sleeping with other women."

She jerked away, scrambled out of the window seat and stood there with her back to him for a moment. Then running one hand through her hair she started pacing. That always meant she was agitated, frustrated, and/or angry. It usually amused him to watch her do it, but not this time.

"Marriage and children were both situations I could not even consider after I had to go into witness protection." She quit pacing and turned to look at him. " As for the other, when ....or if it happens, I'll deal with it. I won't like it but I'll deal with it." Then she added, "Madeline would get some kind of perverse pleasure by profiling a mission that required you to ......." She couldn't even say it. "She considers me a hindrance to you doing your job.

"It is Madeline's responsibility to keep things orderly. To squelch distractions so everyone's performance is at its optimum."

"There's nothing to squelch." Key said bitterly. " Your performance and my performance will never be anything less than exactly what Section expects. That's the type of individuals we are." She fell into one of the velvet chairs in the sitting area.

Michael rose from the window seat and walked to where she sat and knelt in front of her. Key had her eyes closed and she was pinching the bridge of her nose. He took her hand and asked, "Did I hurt you?

"No. No you didn't." She opened her eyes, gazed into his, saw he was tired. "I should have told you I had never been with anyone that way. I just never let a relationship advance this far." She looked away, "I can't explain the feeling I have when I'm with you ... other than it's like a current of electricity, and you control the switch. People, mostly strangers, have had control over the perimeter things in my life for the last twelve years......." Then she said wistfully, "but never the inside."

She looked back at Michael and gently brushed his face with her hand, as he said softly, "I don't think it is so bad to guard that part of you for a bit longer." His meaning was clear ...... he was not going to declare or define his intentions at this time.

"Perhaps you're right." Key stood as Michael did. Her eyes traveled from his chest up to the strong column of his throat, past those magical lips, to his eyes. Eyes that were searching hers for understanding. She gave that to him by taking his hand, palm to palm, linking their fingers and saying, "I'm a very patient person."

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

June 11

1000 hours

Key was restless. Somehow she had managed to sleep for about three hours. Physically she knew she was exhausted, but she couldn't turn her mind off. Michael seemed to be sleeping deeply next to her. Her back was up against his chest and she could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady along with his breathing. They had both welcomed the comfort of the bed and sleep had come almost instantly for them.

Slowly she moved out of his arms and carefully rolled to the edge of the bed. Once her feet touched the floor, she turned to observe Michael. He did not wake; he actually seemed to burrow deeper into the bed and Key was glad he continued to rest. She padded barefoot into the sitting room and almost instantly she heard Birkoff and Walter out on the landing. Then came their knock. Quickly she closed off the bedroom door so they wouldn't wake Michael and she went to the double sliding doors that opened into the sitting room.

"Hey guys." Key peered out the doors. She saw they had a tray of fresh muffins and hot coffee and immediately slid the doors open wide. "Come in if you intend to share. Anything new?"

Walter grinned wolfishly as they entered, "You tell us, sweetheart."

Key laughed softly and motioned to the table where he could deposit the tray. "We have this nice big sitting room to use for meetings and I see you brought some equipment, Birkoff." She gestured at the two cases he carried.

"Yeah, we need to look historical." He responded with a smile. "And Michael would be where?" Birkoff asked with a raised eyebrow and a sweeping look at her clad only in the oversize flannel shirt.

"He would be asleep." She pointed at the closed door. "And I'm going to my room," she pointed at the other bedroom door, "and put on some more clothes." The look she gave them was a direct challenge for one or both of them to say anything about the sleeping arrangements.

As she rummaged through her bag for a pair of jeans and underwear, she felt her face become flushed with the thought of how she lost her earlier pair. She grabbed her toiletries and headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She could hear Walter and Birkoff fussing with the equipment in the next room. Then she glimpsed her reflection in the mirror, her mussed hair, the almost feverish look in her eyes and the whisker burns on her left cheek ... even her lips were swollen. As she pressed her palm to her face, she knew how very obvious it must have been to Walter and Birkoff what had happened. Now she was embarrassed. She started splashing cold water on her face in an effort to cool the redness when the door opened from Michael's side and he stepped into the bathroom.

He immediately saw her distress and crossed to her speaking softly, "Key, what is it? Has something happened with Chimera?" He paused, "I heard Walter and Birkoff in the other room."

She pressed a damp washcloth to her cheek as she shook her head and whispered, "No."

"What then?" He asked, as he turned her to search her face.

Key moved the wash cloth and Michael saw how irritated her face was from their earlier encounter. He struggled to hide the smile that threatened to break as he noted her embarrassment. Then he reached to pull her against him, "I'm sorry, I did not realize my beard was so rough."

"It's not that Michael ....Birkoff and Walter saw .... they will know." She said this snuffled against his chest.

Michael brought both hands up and cradled her face, looked at her and said, "Don't fret. They can only speculate." He kissed her forehead and stepped back, resisting his urge to embrace her again. "Now you must gather yourself and go out there."

"Aren't you coming?" She questioned.

He had walked over to the shower to start the water. It was a corner shower done in marble on two sides and thick glass bricks on the other, with no door or curtain needed. "I'll clean up first ....." He began to strip out of his shirt and jeans, "and I will shave."

She froze for a moment, as he was just so simply magnificent without his clothes on.

"Go." He said with a half smile and a look back over his shoulder at her. "Before I change my mind."

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

June 11

1600 hours

Key was glad to be back in a comfort zone. Birkoff had set up her laptop computer and down loaded all the essential files she had compiled to analyze possible profiles for the remaining members of 'The Five'. She had a satellite link to Section through the cell phone if she needed it and a printer. All in all, the sitting room now appeared to be a functional office. There were books and papers about 12th century England and Ireland scattered about. Magazines about historical architecture, furniture and jewelry were also distributed around the room. To the curious, the area could now pass as a base for their supposed historical research. Birkoff had dummied some history files for the computer and Key was linked to the university in Boston. The little darling had also gotten her a link to the library files at the university in Dublin.

Michael, Birkoff and Walter had all stayed at the substation. Tallie had now reviewed her list of possibles for 'The Five'. It was in their hands to determine whom to place under surveillance. Of course, she had suggested they grab up Thomas and turn him over to Madeline and let her torture the names out of him. That had earned her a frown from Michael, a smile from Tallie and Birkoff just shook his head and walked off. She personally thought it was a good plan. It would actually have been one time she might have enjoyed being Madeline.

With the vote for peace undeniably the wish of both the Irish and British people, terrorist activity had virtually ceased. Fragile as this new agreement appeared, there was a great deal of posturing over the decommissioning of arms by the paramilitary groups in Northern Ireland. Key was absolutely sure Chimera was plotting something that would damage the whole process. Whatever they were going to try would most certainly occur in the next forty-five days.

She had looked over her list of names so many times it had made her eyes hurt. What would bring these men together? Key liked Birkoff's probability program, which was how she had developed her primary list of names and profiles. Now they needed to take this to the next step. Surveillance would tell them a great deal, but it did require manpower, time and resources. They were steps behind Chimera and they needed to be at least a step ahead. It was driving her nuts, but some of the stupid clichés she knew were running through her brain: "Behind the eight ball."; "Check and Checkmate."; "If you're going to hunt with the big dogs....." Suddenly she started typing in key words to do another search. She used: Billiards, Chess, and Hunt. If astronomy, astrology and numerology seemed stupid and got a match last time, why not try those.

Kicking back in her chair she let the computer do its' work. If it didn't go anywhere, she didn't have to tell anyone.

Unsure how long the search would take, Key stood up and stretched, then walked over to the bay window. Looking out, she observed the sun on its course to the horizon. Glancing at her watch, she realized they only had a few hours of daylight left. She rubbed her gritty eyes, thought about soaking her tired muscles, and pondered the sharpness of the brain running on adrenaline, hers certainly was. She would be lucky if she ever got it turned off.

Then she thought of Michael and she shivered. Just the memory of this morning made her want him. She loved him - undeniably. He didn't want her in his life, but then, she sure hadn't originally wanted any involvement with him. Key thought he looked at her and saw a vulnerability. She knew that was not true. What might be interpreted as a dependence or weakness for one another was in fact, a unification. Where one might stand alone with the pain of the past, each now had the other to understand, to lessen the ugliness. In the quiet .... in the dark, when self examination was at its' most undesirable level, the other would be there, with a touch, maybe just a look. Sometimes presence was everything. She knew..... and so did Michael.

Suddenly the ringing of the cell phone and the beeping of the computer brought her from her musings. As it had been emphasized, more than once by Michael, Key answered the phone, immediately.

"Yes."

"Avalon......come in." Michael's voice was soft, yet held a tone of insistence as he spoke her code name.

"On my way." Key grabbed her jacket, and as an afterthought to appearances, her briefcase. She unintentionally ignored the computer. It wasn't beeping anymore, but it was flashing the word, "MATCH."

Upon her arrival at the school (substation), the amount of activity defined the urgency of Michael's call. Several operatives were moving equipment up the stairs, most of it to be used for surveillance, Key noted. As she made her way down to the basement and the computer staging area, she ran into Walter.

"What's the excitement about?' She flattened herself against the wall so people could continue to get by.

"Thomas is on the move." Walter answered. "He boarded a sea-cat boat for Liverpool twenty minutes ago."

"Another meet?" She asked inching her way on down the stairs.

"That's what Michael and Tallie think." He paused at the top. "You better get down there, they both need you to fill in for Birkoff. He's going with us."

Turning Key took the remaining stairs double time. Once she hit the bottom and looked out into the open room, her eyes caught Tallie gesturing for her to join him. Michael was at the opposite end of the room briefing a group of operatives. They had done a lot of work to the place in just a few hours. While she had been gone, they had erected some pipe scaffolding and mounted some video monitors and lights, as well as having gotten the miles of cable out of the way.

"Key, glad you got here so quick." She smiled as Tallie started explaining what Walter had already told her. Then her eyes wandered back across the room to Michael, and in just a split second, he looked away from his audience over the room at her. Her breath caught. The look, however brief, was electric. He was back to the business at hand in a heartbeat, but the current between them had jumped across the room. ". . . . .briefing that Michael is in . . . . . Key?" Tallie questioned her and touched her arm.

"I'm sorry Tallie." Key shook her head and looked very embarrassed, sure that he had picked up on her distraction.

"It's quite all right," Tallie lowered his voice for just her ears, "If the two of you finally worked things out, I'm pleased."

Key turned another shade of red as Tallie guided her into a chair in front of the main station. He sat down across from her. "We . . . . . . I mean . . . . . oh, never mind." She said with the wave of a hand, and then put on her best poker face.

"No explanation required." He grinned. "Michael is very focused, but he's more relaxed than I have seen him since he found you in the woods." Tallie rolled his chair up next to her and drew her attention back to the screen in front of her.

"Tallie," Key paused considering her next words, "You don't think I distract Michael from his responsibilities, do you?" It was a question she had wanted to ask some objective party since her talk with Madeline. She didn't want to believe she was a distraction to Michael.

Tallie glanced at her, his face was so full of understanding, it pricked at her heart. "Not at all." His voice was quiet as he continued, "You'll only strengthen his position at Section. Don't you let anyone try to tell you different."

She looked at him with a new respect. "I'll try harder to keep my feelings for him from showing up on my face." Key smiled and turned her attention back to the screen.

"Just don't let anyone see you look at him like he's a delicious piece of chocolate, and you'll be okay." Tallie added with a chuckle. "Now," he pointed to the computer, "these are the sims that Birkoff has been working on . . . . ."

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

Twenty minutes later, Key had checked the A, B, and C channels they would be using for this mission. The satellite link with Section was functioning perfectly. She had checked in with Gail on the com and via video. Madeline was standing by in case they needed authorization for any additional resources, and Key thought she probably wanted to make sure she could handle Birkoff's station.

"Have you checked in with Mentz?" Michael was speaking from right behind her and she jumped, not expecting to hear his voice.

"Yes," composing herself quickly she added, "just moments ago." Key couldn't turn around, as he had braced one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk in front of her. He was leaning over her shoulder looking at the screen she had displayed. It was the GPS (global positioning satellite) tracking the sea-cat boat Thomas was on. "He's still about two hours from Liverpool."

Michael looked at her as she focused on the screen. He could see the fatigue around her eyes, very faint, but there nonetheless. "This may be a long night for you."

Her face turned and she looked at him steadily, "No longer for me than you - I'll be okay." She assured him. "When do you load for the mission?"

"Fifteen minutes." His voice was dead calm as he continued to lock eyes with her. "Secure your station and follow me." Michael abruptly turned and stepped off the platform heading for the stairs.

Key typed in a lock code, but kept her com unit on as she hurried to catch up with him. His easy long stride carried him quickly across the room, and she noticed he had changed into his mission clothes. All black. 'The darkness of Michael,' She thought.

She followed him up the stairs and reaching the top he turned right, stepped into an unused classroom, then shut the door behind her. The room was dark, except for the light of the moon coming through the large windows.

"What's this about, Michael?" Key had a feeling she was not going to like it, whatever was going on.

He reached out and removed her com unit. Making sure it was disengaged; he handed it back to her. Then he reached inside his Kevlar vest and pulled out a fairly thick envelope and offered it to her. She took it, never breaking her gaze from his.

"You didn't answer my question." She whispered. "What is this?"

"Papers." He turned away and walked to the window. Michael knew he couldn't watch her face, see the hurt that would be there. "Birth certificate, driver's license, passport, credit cards, access to a coded account in Amsterdam - a new identity."

Key felt like a ton of bricks had just landed on her chest. She followed him to the window and walked around in front of him. She searched his face, as he would not look at her directly. "I don't need these things."

"It is a contingency for you - in case . . . ." He did not get to finish his statement. Key dropped the package and slammed her fist against his chest.

"Stop it." She kept her voice low. "Stop it." She hit him again and he grabbed her wrist and finally looked at her. "I'm not running. I'm not leaving you." Her voice broke as she fought to control her anger. "You're going to Liverpool to do what you do best. You're coming back here . . . alive . . . with lots of Intel," Key broke his hold on her wrist, "so we can finish Chimera."

She turned away from him this time. "You make me so angry. Don't you dare try to test me again . . . ." Now she didn't get to finish. Michael reached for her, turned her to face back into his chest with an embrace she wasn't expecting. Moments passed. The silence was only touched with sound of his heartbeat, as she was enfolded so close to him. Key had returned the embrace and almost wished she could crawl inside of him. Michael's cheek was pressed solidly to the top of her head as he held on with purpose. Then she felt the low rumble of his voice as he spoke.

"I'm sorry." He rasped out. Then he pulled away just enough to reach down and brush her lips gently with his. "I have to go."

Key bent to retrieve the envelope blinking back the tears that threatened and swallowing hard. She straightened up, handed him the package, took his hand tightly and led the way to the door. Before he exited, Key turned, searched his face and said. "Don't worry about me. I'll be safe here with Tallie."

Michael nodded. Then he brought the palm of her hand to his lips and pressed a slow kiss to the center, brushed the back of his other hand against her cheek and left. Key stood alone, inside the room, for more than a few moments. Once she regained her composure, she headed back to the staging area. Her stomach was in knots and the thought of anything happening like it had the last time made her sick, but she shook it off. The last thing she wanted to do was give Madeline an ounce of ammunition to use against her.

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

June 11

1930 hours

"You better not eat all of Birkoff's peanuts." Tallie said as he joined Key at the main station.

"They aren't his, they're mine". She added with a laugh. "He's been stealing from me."

"We all have." Tallie grabbed a hand full and started popping them in his mouth.

Key stretched and rubbed the back of her neck, then focused on Tallie. "Glad you showed up, my eyes were tired of looking at this screen." She smiled and added, "Does it seem awfully quiet?"

"Well, the sea-cat Thomas is on is about forty five minutes from landing." He paused, "You checked Michael and his team in and cleared all channels fifteen minutes ago." Tallie munched a few more peanuts, "I guess it's the calm before the storm."

"Hope there is no storm." Key mumbled and leaned back in toward the screen.

"You and Michael talked before he left?"

The question caught her entirely by surprise. Key reached up and cut the outbound transmitter on her com unit. Then she looked at Tallie through narrowed eyes, "Are you spying for Madeline?"

Tallie's laugh echoed across the basement. "No, but if I was, I wouldn't admit it." He saw the warning look in her eyes. "Okay," he held up both hands, as in surrender, "I'm joking."

Key looked away before she responded. "He talked, I got angry."

Several moments passed before Tallie said quietly, "I told him you would be."

Her heartbeat doubled as she turned back around and gave Tallie a look of admonition. "You know about the package?"

"I helped him put it together." Looking down, Tallie rubbed his palms against his pant legs nervously. "It's been sent by messenger to a bank safe deposit box here in Dublin."

Key was silent. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, repeating to herself inside her head, "Don't be angry, don't get mad."

"I know it's difficult to accept, but contingencies are not always bad ideas." Tallie added.

"I don't want or need a new identity." She snapped.

"Look, I know you don't care to hear this, but we don't always get what we need and rarely do we get what we want." Tallie watched her as she ran her hands through her hair in agitation. "That package is practical, and should you need it, it's there."

He reached in his pocket and as she watched he drew out a chain with a key attached. "This is all you'll need to get to it. It's at First International Bank, the main branch. You ask for Rory, give him the key and tell him your code name." He leaned forward and dropped the chain around her neck. Then he took her hands in his and squeezed them, forcing her to look at him. "Don't be mad at Michael, Key. He's had years of training. That's not going to change. What has changed in this last month is you've made him wake up. You came crashing into his existence, captured his attention and brought a piece of him back to life that he has had locked away for a long time."

Tallie released her hands and she reached up and scrubbed her face with them, just trying to let everything sink in. She knew deep down that Tallie spoke the truth. Michael's soul wasn't nearly as lost as he thought and his heart, though protected by layers of indifference, had been touched . . . . by her.

"He desperately needs a friend, someone he can trust implicitly. That person is you. He is in love with you." She jerked her attention back to Tallie. "He doesn't know it, or maybe he's not ready to say it out loud, but he . . .." Tallie hesitated for a moment, then finished with, "Still waters run deep."

'What a great way to describe Michael, with a cliché', she thought, 'a cliché . . . .' She jumped up from her chair, "Tallie, I know you'll think I'm crazy, but you just made me remember the cross checks I was running on the set of twenty names. It was beeping a completion the same time I got the call from Michael to come in."

He took her com unit and put it on, "Go. You've got fifteen or twenty minutes before the action starts. I'll cover the station."

"What if . . . . ."

"Don't 'what if', just go!" He propelled her off the platform and she ran for the stairs. She heard Tallie briefly telling the operatives outside that she was coming out. As she ran through the front door and down the sidewalk, the motion detector lighting was triggered and she had an illuminated path all the way to the gate.

Not slowing, Key continued on her race down the block to the B & B. Once she made it, she stopped to catch her breath, slowing her breathing and composing herself. Key dug into her pocket for one of the keys Mr. and Mrs. Taylor had given them for the front door.

The smell of fresh baked bread assaulted her nostrils when she came into the foyer. As she passed by the sitting room she saw Mr. Taylor and several other guests visiting. Not wanting to be delayed, Key quickened her steps to the stairwell.

"Miss Young?" She heard Mrs. Taylor from the end of the hall. "Child you'll catch your death if you don't wear a jacket here at night."

"Hi, Mrs. Taylor," Key turned. "I did, but I left it at the library." She looked around nervously, "I only came back because I forgot some information we needed."

"Well I just made a fresh pot of tea, let me get a cup to warm you." Before Key could protest, Mrs. Taylor disappeared back into the kitchen. Trying to be patient, Key walked over to look out the only hall window at the base of the stairs. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds and it was very dark. Key could see lightening in the distance and she knew a storm was approaching. Suddenly an uncontrollable chill made her shudder and this eerie feeling that something very bad was coming hit her hard. Her mother called it a premonition - her sixth sense - what made her worry is she usually didn't feel this way for no reason.

"Here you are dear." Mrs. Taylor came bundling out of the kitchen with a steaming mug.

"Thank you." Key turned to start up the stairs, then paused, "We may all be out a bit late, Mrs. Taylor, we'll try to be quiet when we come in."

"Not to worry, dear, the old man and I sleep the sleep of the dead. Besides, our hearing isn't what it used to be." She moved to go back to the kitchen, then stopped. "Tell those men if they want a snack when you get back, I'll leave out some fresh bread and cheese."

"Thanks Mrs. Taylor." Key then headed up the stairs, grateful for the hot drink. She opened the sliding doors to the sitting room, walked to the computer and saw the flashing, "MATCH." Quickly she sat down and started typing her query. The match came with the word 'hunt'. What she wanted to see was how many names matched and who they were.

Key couldn't stop the sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach as four names flashed up on the screen. The whole trip to Liverpool could possibly have been avoided if she had just looked at this before rushing out. There was a retired Captain from the British Secret Service, Irish heritage, perfect for being in charge of personnel recruitment or intelligence gathering. Then there was a professor of Management Information Services from Dublin University, Irish, very progressive and innovative in computer software and hardware. He could be in charge of Chimera technology and assist with intelligence gathering. Next was a wealthy industrialist, quite involved in the international import/export business, specifically servicing Great Britain. He had strong ties to Sinn Fein. Last on the list, and probably the most dangerous, was her choice for the brains behind it all, the recently retired Chairman of the Board for the British Broadcasting Corp. This was a man that had ties to every corner of the world and connections for information that would exceed some of the best intelligence operations in existence.

What did they all have in common? Every one of them had a strong passion for the age-old sport of fox hunting. Her computer search and the untimely match of those names did not prove anything, but it would point them in the right direction, help them narrow their focus and use their resources more efficiently. Key checked the time and saw she needed to scoot, so she quickly started to copy the information to disk.

Suddenly, she heard Mrs. Taylor knock on the frame of the door, as she had not closed them when she came in.

"Ms. Young? You have a phone call downstairs."

Key jumped up from the computer and went to the door immediately. "Did they say who they were?" She remembered she left the substation so quickly she didn't have her cell phone.

"I believe she said her name was Madeline." Mrs. Taylor looked worried, "She said it was urgent."

Key whirled around and shut the doors to the sitting room, then took off down the stairs, her heart pounding. "Take the call in the kitchen, dear, that's where I was when it came in." She called after Key's fleeing back.

Bursting through the kitchen door, Key spotted the phone, snatched it up and said, " Yes Madeline, I'm here." She fought to control her breathing, as she listened for a response. What she heard surprised her.

"Thank God." It was Madeline's voice. She sounded so relieved and Key thought her response was awfully strange. "Our connection is excellent." That statement was a reminder to her that the line was not secure. "I have some instructions for you Ms. Young."

"I'm listening." Key was really confused now, but she was in no position to ask questions on an unsecured line.

"Do not return to the library." Which meant she was not to go back to the sub station. Madeline continued, "Secure all the data on your computer and be ready to leave at a moments notice. Make no dial up connections to our system. Remain vigilant and expect Michael in about forty five minutes."

Key had been holding her breath, as Madeline's instructions seemed to crescendo. The mention of Michael's name allayed her concern momentarily.

"What about Tallie?" She asked with a measure of suspicion.

"Don't concern yourself with Tallie." Her statement was made much too strongly and held a warning undertone that Key didn't care for. Something was not right. "Are you clear on this, Ms. Young?"

"Yes." Key answered the way she knew she was suppose to.

"Very good. We will speak again after Michael arrives." That was it. Click. No good bye. Nothing.

Key hung up the phone and went back upstairs to finish securing her information about Chimera to the disk. After that, she was headed to the sub station to find out what was really going on.

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

Within minutes, Key had changed into her black leggings, turtleneck, and light goose down vest. She grabbed the copied disk and zippered it into an inside pocket, then she added a flashlight and two extra clips for her gun. Over the vest she layered a light waterproof jacket lined for warmth. She slipped the gun into the back waistband of her pants and turned out the lights. The threatening storm had arrived and the lightening was sharp and bright accompanied by loud claps of thunder.

After quietly making her way down the stairs, Key left the house through a door on the east side, away from the kitchen and parlor. Michael had made them study all the exits from the building as a precaution. Unsure what the situation would be at the sub station, Key decided to make her approach and initial observation from across the road. There was a thick hedgerow and close growth of trees almost directly crosswise from the gate entrance to the school. The rain started with a slow drizzle and she pulled her hood up on the jacket and almost at the same time she realized the gate was wide open to the yard. As the next flash of lightening illuminated the sky, she scanned the roof for movement. There was none, and she knew Tallie had stationed at least two of the seven operatives on the roof.

Key shivered from the chill and wet, but also from the growing uncertainty she had about checking this out alone. After several thoughtful moments, a lot of self-doubt and the surety that Michael would be furious, her concern for Tallie won out. Pulling her gun from her waistband, she chambered a round, looked both directions on the street, saw nothing and ran directly for the gate. No motion detector lights went on as she passed through, so she went low with her back up against the first tree.

"This is not good." Key thought. "No lights, the gate is open, no one detectable on the roof or grounds." She caught her breath, listened and heard nothing but the rain and the continual rumble of thunder. Then with a quick look all directions; Key headed for the front door. Even before she reached the top of the stairs, the lightening revealed those doors were open, too. Now she knew something was terribly wrong. Once inside, she gave her eyes a chance to adjust to the enclosed darkness, before moving quickly to the stairs leading to the basement. There Key paused and removed her flashlight, pushed back the hood of her jacket, then stealthily made her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, a quick glance around with the flashlight did not reveal anything.

Suddenly, a flash of lightening illuminated the room through the ground level windows on the top east wall of the basement. What Key saw exposed by that flash almost made her wretch. There, hanging from the scaffolding, tied up by their wrists, were the five Section operatives assigned to ground perimeter. Closer inspection revealed each had a perfectly placed bullet hole right in the middle of the forehead. Sickened by the sight, Key almost didn't hear the low groan emanating from the other side of the framework. Quickly she investigated and found Tallie, and like the others, he was also suspended by his wrists. She set her gun down and desperately looked for where the rope was anchored. As soon as she found where they had tied it off, Key spoke in a low voice as she loosened the knots, "Tallie, hang on, I'll have you down in a minute." She tried not to panic, told herself to remain calm, as all the response she got was another groan. Once she managed to get the rope undone, she struggled hard to lower him to the floor as gently as possible. He outweighed her by at least seventy-five pounds and that prevented her from giving him a perfectly soft landing. Key watched helplessly as he crumpled to the floor, unable to support himself. After finding and setting up a couple of the green phosphorous emergency lights, she was by his side removing her jacket to use as a pillow for his head. The lights cast a ghostly sort of glow, but some light was better than no light.

Key checked his pulse and found it was thready and weak. She continued to hold his hand as she spoke, "Tallie can you hear me?" The whole scene had terrified her and she struggled to maintain her composure, to keep the panic from showing in her voice.

His response was to squeeze her hand weakly, and she bent closer to his face when she heard him whisper her name. "Key, you should leave. . . still dangerous." She watched as he managed to open his eyes.

"Tallie, What happened? Where are you hurt?" Not meaning to overwhelm him, she paused and waited for him to respond.

"Chimera." His eyes finally focused on her. "They set us up again. Parachuted in. Hit the roof first, then the perimeter."

"Tallie, tell me what to do for you." Key squeezed his hand and brushed the other across his forehead, feeling his skin was cool and damp.

"Executed the others, one by one." He swallowed then continued, "No one would tell them what they wanted to know."

"Tell me where you're hurt." Key insisted.

Tallie closed his eyes and responded, "Gut shot . . . three times."

Key let go of his hand and started to examine his abdomen, when Tallie reached out to stop her. "Don't. I'm hemorrhaging internally. You can't help me." He insisted again sounding weaker.

Key ignored him and gently pulled back his sweater and realized immediately he was right. Tears flooded her eyes, for now she knew how hopeless the situation was.

"Oh God, Tallie." She reached back to clasp both his hands now. "You've got to be in pain, don't we have a medical box somewhere?"

"No pain." He whispered. "Second shot severed my spinal cord. Can't feel anything from my chest down."

"Why, why did they do this to you?" Key was unable to hold back her tears as they flowed hotly down her face.

"They wanted me to live long enough for someone from Section to find me." Tallie coughed and she saw blood start to trickle out of the corner of his mouth. "Colder now." He closed his eyes again.

She shifted him so she could support his head and shoulders in her lap, freeing her jacket to drape over him for some warmth. Slowly Key stroked his hair and held him as close as she could. "Oh please, Tallie, hang on, don't go." She cried.

"Want to come back in my next life as one of your horses." He touched one hand to her face. Key watched as he smiled weakly and continued, "You treat D.B. like a king." He coughed again and she reached out to wipe the second trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"No more, Tallie, save your strength." Her eyes blurred with tears and she bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from sobbing loudly.

"Promise me . . ." Tallie broke his whispered plea, and she could see the tears in his eyes now.

"Anything, Tallie, just name it."

"Stay with him. Love him, but if you loose him." He paused to catch his breath, shallow as it was, "use that package and be free."

"I promise." She whispered and kissed his brow. Then she realized he was gone.

The silence was overwhelming. She noticed the storm had moved on and all she could feel was the utter stillness, the cessation of sound, the absolute quiet . . . of death.

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

June 11

2140

Michael left Birkoff and Walter in charge of securing the outside perimeter, with strict instructions to wait for his return to explore inside the building. He headed quickly down the block; his walk turning into a lope, as his need to see and touch Key grew. Once inside the B & B, he quietly made his way up the stairs to the sitting room. He was not sure why, but later, when he thought through the events of the evening, he knew somehow that Key would not be there. The room was dark as he suspected.

He exited as quickly and quietly as he came. "Birkoff, report." He commanded as he swiftly made his way back to the substation.

"Chimera did a night drop, Michael. We found eighteen parachutes, two of our ops dead on the roof, along with three of theirs." Birkoff paused, "Is Key all right?"

Michael ignored his question for the moment, "I'm almost to the gates, Birkoff, mobilize the team for entry to the building, and have Walter stand by. I want the generator working as soon as possible."

"What about me?" He asked expectantly.

"Stay with the van until we call you in."

"Michael." Birkoff began. . . . .

Michael stopped in his tracks at the base of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for him to lead the way in. "What now?"

"I just finished a heat sensitive scan of the building; there is someone alive in the basement." He concluded, "Maybe it's Key."

Taking the steps two at a time up to the front door, Michael directed Team One on to the second floor to check the sleeping quarters. Team Two remained on the first floor and Team Three followed him to the basement where it was quickly evident from the green glow there was some emergency lighting already in place.

It didn't take long for everyone that filed out of the basement entrance to see the gruesome display of dead operatives hanging from the scaffolding. Michael gestured for the team to immediately begin removing the bodies, when he heard Walter call his name.

"Michael, back here."

Rounding the corner of the staging area, Michael saw what would be a picture forever imprinted in his memory. There sat Key, her hair partially hanging loose, forming a curtain around her face, holding Tallie, head and shoulders in her lap. She was unmoving, no sound, her head bowed as if in silent prayer. Walter moved to the opposite side of Tallie and checked his neck for a pulse, looked up at Michael and slowly shook his head. Michael set his assault rifle on the nearby console, then bent down beside Key. Slowly he drew her hair back away from her face and secured it with the hair clip it had escaped from. She was still. The only noticeable movement was the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Michael gently raised her face by lifting her chin and the all too familiar vacant look in her eyes made him swallow hard.

He motioned for Walter to lift Tallie's upper body as he extracted Key smoothly from her position. She didn't protest and it was immediately clear she was in no shape to walk. He swept her into his arms, not surprised when she settled against him and pressed her face into his chest. Softly he spoke into his com unit.

"Team Four stay with the outside perimeter and two of you secure the van." He paused, then turned toward the basement stairs. "Birkoff, we need you - Now. Once generator power is restored, determine if there was any infiltration to our computer systems." He slowly started up the stairs, and as he almost reached the top, Birkoff met him.

"Is she okay?" The worried look on his face only made Michael shake his head.

As they passed one another on the steps, Michael continued with his instructions, only after he cut his com unit. "I'll be at the rooms. Try to give me forty-five minutes of down time. No contact with Section until you have finished here and brought the Intel back to me at the Taylor's."

"You've got it." Birkoff nodded and continued his descent to the basement.

Once outside, he noticed the passing of the recent storm chilled the air and Michael cursed himself for not having remembered her jacket. The journey to the B & B seemed to take an eternity. When he reached the door, he set Key on her feet, supported her with one arm and guided her over the threshold.

Slowly they progressed down the hall to the first three steps that led to a landing and then up the longer stairway to the second floor. Michael helped guide Key, was tempted to pick her up again, but resisted. He knew that if she could move on her own she would recover more quickly. As they paused on the first landing, he heard the door to the kitchen swing open and Mrs. Taylor appeared.

"Heavens," She gasped and clasped her hand to her chest, "you startled me." She immediately surveyed the situation and responded. "Is Ms. Young all right?"

Michael kept Key turned into him, supporting and embracing her both, "She has had a shock . . . a death in the family."

"Oh dear me. I just knew that phone call she received was bad news." She paused, "You take her on up and I'll fix something hot and leave it in the sitting room."

Michael nodded his approval, then turned and started the slow progression up the stairs. Once inside the sitting room, he switched on a light and then leading Key by the hand continued to his room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

Thus far, Michael had made no attempt to talk to her or ask her questions. He had seen this kind of shock before. If she was this affected by what she had seen, he wondered what her reaction would be if she was forced to shoot and actually kill someone. Circumstances could change the direct response to every situation, and Key's fondness for Tallie had obviously played a huge part in her emotional shutdown. Everyone's actions could be vastly different when it came to protecting his or her own psyche. At least she still had a soul. Just seeing her this way made him want to scream at the top his lungs, to chastise God for punishing her this way, yet again. But as logic and reason took over, God was absolved and he turned instead to blame the real source of her pain - Chimera. And he could do something about that.

Michael positioned Key on the tile bench outside the shower. She had started shivering, either from the cold or shock. He undressed quickly, shedding his vest and turtleneck, then after unlacing and removing his boots he peeled out of his lycra knit pants. Stepping into the shower he turned it on - hot - then retreated to get Key. The steam started to build up as Michael undressed her. She still had not really looked at him with any recognition in her eyes. The only way he knew she was remotely aware of his presence was from the way she had clung to him as he had carried her from the school.

Once he removed her clothes, Michael noticed the key hanging around her neck and knew Tallie had given it to her. He couldn't help but wonder about that conversation. Finally he led her into the shower, backed her under the hot water and watched as she bowed her head and let the shower pour over her. After a five full minutes, the steam was billowing around them both and Key finally raised her hands to her face and began to sob, but before she had a chance to completely crumble to the floor, Michael moved forward into the spray of water and wrapped his arms around her. She sagged against him and the sobs soon became strangled cries of grief. He held her, stroked her wet hair, but said nothing.

The bond between the two of them deepened in that instant. Michael's heart was heavy with sadness over the loss of Tallie and he let himself grieve through Key. He acknowledged his pain, but pushed through his anger and hurt to provide the silent presence Key would need before she could absorb this particular shock and move past it.

Several minutes passed and Key seemed to have fallen silent. He stood unmoving, still supporting her, until finally he felt her hands come up, clasp his waist, push away and stand on her own. Then he reached around and cut the water. Once they exited the shower, the first thing handy to wrap her in was his robe, and although it was too large, it was warm and absorbent. Then he reached for and wrapped one towel around himself and used another to dry as much moisture from her hair as he could. Next, Michael led her back out to the sitting room and placed her on the couch. Surveying the tray Mrs. Taylor had brought, he chose a steaming cup of barley soup, and handed that to Key, then returned to the bedroom to dress. He checked the time and saw their forty-five minutes was almost gone. Michael wanted Key to be communicative by the time they reported to Section, but he wanted her to break the silence on her own. Returning to the sitting room, he was pleased to see she was making an effort to consume some of the soup. A knock on the doors, sent him to admit Walter and Birkoff, both were loaded down with computer equipment.

"How's she doing?" Walter kept his voice low.

"She still has not spoken," Michael answered, "but some of her awareness has returned." He paused and looked at Birkoff, "Were they able to breach our system?"

Birkoff answered as he made his way to the desk area to set up the equipment they brought. "No, Tallie started the contamination virus the moment he knew they had been compromised."

"Do we know what they wanted?" Michael inquired.

Birkoff looked nervously at Walter, then back to Michael, and with a very painful expression on his face he answered, "Yes."

Michael raised one eyebrow, anticipating further information, when he realized Birkoff was now looking directly at Key. Grasping his meaning, he was relieved she was not following the conversation. Michael quickly nodded and began to help arrange the equipment they needed to contact Section. He was sure Operations and Madeline were going to be waiting and wondering why he had them on black out. He was right.

"Michael," Operations began, "why the black out? You know we have a potentially threatening international disaster on our hands, as well as what appears to be a direct hostile action against Section One . . . for the second time in less than a month." He finished and Michael had no doubt he was barely controlling his anger.

The video feed was split with Operations appearing on one side of the screen and Madeline on the other. He answered in his controlled Michael voice, facial expression void, but for the hint of anger in his eyes. "It was a necessary precaution once we reached the substation. It was apparent from the estimated time of our operatives' deaths that Chimera had been gone from the scene less than twenty minutes." He paused, "We had no way to tell if they might still be in the area until power was restored and our sweep of the premises was complete."

"What are our losses?" Madeline was next with a question.

"Eight dead." Michael's reply was short and clipped.

"Any penetration into our system, Birkoff?" This question came from Operations.

"None," he began, "Tallie must have had just enough warning to start the contamination. They didn't get any information from our computers."

"They didn't get any information from our operatives either."

Michael turned his body slowly as he hid his surprise at Key's response and presence. As it was, he moved aside just enough for her to be viewed by Operations and Madeline, acting as if he expected her to be right where she was. His quick inventory of her pleased him. She was still quite pale, but she had managed to braid her hair back and dress in some jeans and an over size knit sweater. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she appeared ready to do battle with anyone that crossed her path . . . it was in her eyes - defiance, anger and a touch of sadness.

"Is that so?" Madeline responded. "How would you have come by that information, Miss Yager?"

"From Tallie."

"Tallie died at the substation, Miss Yager. You were instructed to not return there." Madeline's voice was cold, so cold it even pricked at Michael.

"Tallie died in my arms." Key was on edge, but her voice did not betray her feelings, it was cool, controlled and even. "If I had listened to you, he would have died alone, with no one."

Before Madeline had a chance to respond, Operations jumped in. "What can you tell us about the attack?" His question seemed directed to anyone that wanted to answer.

Sensing a need to regain some objectivity and control of the meeting, Michael explained, "They did a night drop. We found eighteen parachutes and three of their people dead on the roof with two of ours. The remaining operatives were found dead in the basement." He paused momentarily and spared a glance at Key. She seemed to be holding it together, so he continued, "Five were suspended from the pipe scaffolding, tied up by their wrists and executed with a bullet to the head. Tallie was . . ."

"Tallie was gut shot three times, and hanging from the scaffolding the same way as the others." Key continued for Michael. "I lowered him to the floor and he told me he was bleeding internally and that the second shot had paralyzed him from the chest down. He wasn't in pain." She paused and Michael could sense that she had started to tremble without even looking at her. "He told me that no one revealed to Chimera what they wanted to know and - I . . ." Her voice broke noticeably, "I was so worried about what I could do for him that I didn't ask. They left him like they did just so he . . . he would live long enough to tell us what they were after." She stopped and looked down at her feet before she continued, "But he didn't tell me . . .he didn't tell, because he didn't want me to feel responsible." She sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard, "They wanted me."

"Do we have any confirmation on this, Michael?" Operations asked expectantly.

Birkoff responded, "Sir, we do. I haven't had the opportunity to brief Michael on that particular point, but we went over the building with Luma Lites looking for any possible blood trails they might have left in their egress. We thought surely one or perhaps several of them might have been wounded. The message was written on the floor just inside the main entrance. . . it said, We want the key."

The meaning was pretty clear. Silence pervaded the room. Moments went by without comment, when finally Operations broke the quiet "I have been on the phone with the Agency and George has authorized us to bring down Chimera any way we see fit. This mission is our number one priority. They have had a strictly political focus up to this point, but this last incident has made the situation personal." His expression was no longer one of anger, or impatience, but one of determination. "I'll leave you to discuss what you need in additional resources with Madeline. We need closure on this Michael." With that said, he signed off the video and Madeline was now full screen.

"I'll have our best profilers start analyzing the list of names you came up with, Miss Yager. We need to identify the other four coordinators of Chimera." Madeline then started to address Michael, but Key stopped her.

"That won't be necessary, I don't think." She tentatively held out her diskette to Birkoff. "I ran one more cross check, another stab in the dark. It was beeping a completion warning when Michael called me in. That's why I left the substation to come back here. With all the activity and everyone getting ready to leave and follow Thomas," she paused and looked over at Michael, "I forgot about it. . . until Tallie said something that made me remember."

Birkoff took the diskette and in the meantime plugged it in to another computer and began looking over the information. He came back around to the video monitor and reported, "Her program has eliminated all but four names, it is a good place to start." He glanced up at Key with a smile.

"Excellent," Her response was not over enthusiastic. "Michael, I have dispatched a transport with three additional teams and some extra equipment. Check your PDA, I have downloaded the inventory list. If you need anything else, let me know."

Michael nodded his acknowledgment. The tension between Madeline and Key was thick and he wasn't about to make any unnecessary comments.

"I will expect a debrief from each of you by tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime it will be eight hours before your additional support arrives, the four of you are on mandatory down time until then." Madeline looked at each of them and ended with, "I mean it, we need all of you at your sharpest in the days to come. That will be all." The video feed went blank.

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

Michael managed to clear Birkoff and Walter out of the room fairly quick. Everyone was tired, emotionally and physically drained. Key had climbed in the window seat and was looking out into the darkness. The full moon from two nights ago was waning, and with the storm having passed, washing the air clean in its' wake, it seemed to shine brighter. Coffee in hand, Michael walked to each lamp and clicked off the warm light, leaving the room illuminated by the silver shadows.

"You should get some rest." His voice was low, and she could discern the smallest amount of fatigue in its' timbre.

Key didn't respond.

"If you're blaming yourself for tonight," he paused and took a sip of the hot liquid, "don't."

Still no response.

He tried again, "It would not matter if you were involved. . . . " He trailed off, because that was not where he wanted to go with this conversation. ". . . . . Had you not accidentally shown up in the forest that day, Section One would still have come after Chimera. It is what we do."

Key remained unmoving, still not saying anything, not acknowledging his comments, not looking at him.

"Tallie was a valuable colleague. He will be missed." There, he said it. Admitted to the loss of life specifically. Something he usually avoided. It was his way.

And he waited. In silence. Finally he set his coffee down and walked over to the window seat. His normal patience meter was headed to the red zone.

"Are you going to speak?" He asked, impatiently. "It is time we talked about this." His tone also held a hint of temper.

She slowly turned to look at him. The light was still gone from her eyes and her voice was flat. "Whose time frame are we on? Yours or mine?"

That pretty much axed it for him. Patience was gone. 'Michael control' out the window. He reached for her with both hands and jerked her out of the window seat roughly, to stand her in front of him.

"There is no 'yours' or 'mine'. We are operating on Section's time." Suddenly she woke up; this was not a Michael she was familiar with. "Is this where I make the decision to send you back?" He had raised his voice and he punctuated the end of his sentence by shaking her hard, just once. But once was enough to get her attention.

"No." She answered, completely mesmerized by this Michael.

"No?" He raised his brows in question, "No, you say - well let me remind you that operatives getting killed while on a mission is not an unusual occurrence." His grip tightened on her arms and his eyes were on fire. "You'll make friends with someone else you like and respect, just as much as Tallie, and like Tallie, there will be a mission they won't come back from." Key winced and rocked back on her heels in disbelief, not at his words, but that Michael was sharing all this with her.

"I gave you time earlier to work through what happened, without questions. That's much more time than I would have allowed any other operative." He lowered his voice, but not the intensity. "If you decide to stay with Section, you must learn to save your emotional displays for the times when you're alone. Put your petulance and disobedience on the shelf." He shook his head in disbelief, and then realized for the first time how tightly he had been gripping her arms. He released her and stepped back. "Why, knowing all of this, would you possibly want to stay? You have the choice no one else in Section has been given."

Key stood there, rubbed her hands up and down her arms where Michael's grip had been. She turned back to look out the window and the moonlight bathed her face and body. The picture she made, standing there caused Michael's breath to catch.

"There's nothing on the outside for me to go back to. I would have to go through another identity change . . . and how many more after that." She paused and looked back at him. His body was taut, the tension rolled off him in waves. "I just don't have the strength to pretend anymore." She glanced back out the big window. "At least in Section, I can make some contribution. I can try to help stop terrorism, and maybe keep assholes like Thomas from hurting innocent people." Key pressed her hands together and brought them to her lips, almost like she was saying a prayer, then she added in a whisper, "And I can't leave you."

Her response broke Michael's crumbling facade and he reached for her, spun her around to face him and with barely contained fury he spoke, "And what if I'm the next one to not return from a mission?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, didn't want to consider the possibility. Her stomach hurt, and she almost felt sick as she said, "If you don't," She grabbed the chain around her neck and withdrew the key from where it hung underneath her sweater. "I promised Tallie I would use this and be free." Her eyes snapped with light, finally. "I promise you the same thing."

Without any warning, Michael snatched her into his arms and it was like the hounds of hell meeting the angels guarding the gates to heaven. What a collision. His mouth found hers and he began to devour her. She tangled her hands in his hair returning his kisses with just as much fervor, groaning his name aloud as he pulled her onto the cushions in the big bay window. He drew her down on top of him, as he slid his hands up her sides, removing her sweater in one fluid movement. His mouth began to feast on her breasts, as she wore no bra to contain them. Michael was relentless as he laved each nipple with his tongue, suckled and then nuzzled his face between them, at the same time his hands were quickly divesting her of her jeans. She was naked in a matter of moments and he rolled her onto her back as he rose and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Key came up onto her knees, and with arduous impatience, she grasped either side of his shirt at the neck and pulled, popping buttons, but accomplishing her mission.

Next, they almost fought against each other as they both worked the buttons of his jeans loose. Finally Michael stood, pushed his jeans down and kicked them away, never breaking eye contact with her. The heat jumped between them as he murmured her name. Boldly Key reached for him, caressed his tumescence, and felt him jump at her touch. Then he was covering her, once again finding her mouth, tasting flavors he would relish for the rest of his life. Their hands danced in exploration of each other. Michael touched her, found her wet, and she cried out, "Please - now - Michael!" He watched her face as he plunged into her. His restraint had disappeared. Her head was thrown back; her delicate neck was arched and bathed in silver moonlight. She gasped, her eyes flew open and locked with his and they began the rhythm that would take them both beyond eternity.

He drove into her, and she met his thrusts, closing around him, grasping him tightly. She clawed at his back, then reached for and grabbed his buttocks as the sensation, and the friction set off her first orgasm. As Michael continued to pump her and fill her with his need to be deeply inside her, he reached between them and began to tease her sensitive nub. As her head thrashed from side to side, he licked, then kissed her ear and said, "Come with me Key, come with me . . . Now." And he punctuated his words with his explosion. Key felt him burst inside her and that immediately set off her second orgasm. Contracting muscles milked him strongly and Michael cried out this time, wishing in that flashing moment, things could be different for them. Wishing fervently his seed could plant itself in her womb, that they could create a life, something of a miracle, out of all the ugliness around them.

They were both out of breath, gasping and clinging to each other. Michael rolled to his side just to take his weight off of her, but held her firmly in place, pulling one leg up to rest over his hip, not wanting to break the connection - yet. He kissed her eyelids, ran a gentle finger down her nose to her lips. They were moist and a little swollen and as he watched, the tip of her tongue came out and ran sensuously over her bottom lip, tasting and remembering.

Then she opened those eyes of hers. The color of deep purple was visible in rings around the outside of her pupils. She blinked slowly and her long dark lashes brushed the back of his fingers as he gently caressed her cheek in an upward motion. One hand lay against his chest over his heart, and he took that hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. Key watched and saw his eyes were luminescent. They glowed with light, with heat . . . with feeling.

She broke the silence. "I'm overwhelmed, Michael." Her whispered statement caressed his heart. "I have never felt so deeply nor so connected to anyone."

Michael drew in a breath, held it, and knew the same feeling at exactly that moment. As he exhaled softly, he looked over her face, once again drinking in her features. In his mind, he searched for the words about his past he needed to share with her. "I lost my soul," he paused and swallowed deeply, "my ability to care - when my wife Simone died." He couldn't believe he was sharing this with anyone. "And Nikita," his eyes squeezed shut as he took a deep breath, "she was my responsibility to train several years ago." Then he opened his eyes slowly and she saw the shame, "She tried to help me find my soul again. We had a . . . stormy relationship. It did not work." Key remained silent as he took on that familiar distant look. He went inside himself for a moment, and her heart beat triple time as she willed him to come back - and then - he did. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he whispered, "You, are my soul."

She buried her face against his chest as he gathered her tightly to him. This was no time for tears and she backstopped them for the present, simply marveling at the strength and depth of her feelings.

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

Neither of them could have known, at that precise moment they were being observed. Far out into the edges of darkness, near the back of the property, Chimera watched. Or more precisely, Thomas watched. Several of his colleagues that had helped him set this last deadly trap for Section, were with him, observing the couple in the big bay window. Though they had no audio, and their visual was limited by the distance, Thomas knew the woman was Key. He also knew who Michael was, and he knew what had just transpired between them. His determination to have her grew.

Key shivered, and Michael, believing she was cold, moved them from the window to the bedroom where they settled into the comfort and warmth of the bed. Only Key knew that the chill she had was from those ungodly fingers of dread that skittered down her spine . . . . premonition. She shut the door on that feeling for now, only wanting to savor the warmth of Michael.

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