Alternate Universe
NC-17

---

In the Munitions area of Section One, a seemingly imperturbable Level 5 Operative Michael Samuelle still wearing his Mission gear moved equipment from the arms of a female pony-tailed Cold Op to Walter's worktable. The old hippie leered when Michael summarily dismissed the young woman. Michael, under his flawless faηade, smirked inwardly at the obvious meaning of Walter's grin.

Walter spoke to Michael, his sarcasm palpable as he commented in a whisper, "Oh to be young and you. . ." The words lingering in a cloud of awe, then Walter asked the handsome man, "Well Michael how'd it go?"

Michael's expression perfectly hid his reaction to Walter's remark and he controlled the need to laugh choosing to reply instead of chuckling, "Guy never showed."

Walter continued inventorying the returned equipment and making notations on a PDA as he conversed, "Then, you didn't use the beta unit?"

Michael was unloading his own gun as he answered Walter's question like only the monosyllabic Michael could, "No."

Walter was more than a little exasperated with the morose Cold Op's short replies, so he added a comment instead of asking another question saying, "Oh that's too bad, I was really hoping to field test this baby, but I guess there'll be other days, other living things to kill."

Michael didn't even acknowledge Walter's sarcastic remark and instead bid the old coot a respectful so long by saying, "Goodnight".

While Walter responded to Michael's retreating back, "Goodnight," the dark clad operative walked away from Munitions towards the Main Area to debrief with Operations and noticed that the Section was eerily calm.

Walter watched as Michael and Madeline crossed paths in the corridor, with the dark clad man nodding politely at the pretty female who was moving slowly into Comm. Suddenly a loud beeping sound was heard through the Section cutting through the previous calm. In Operation's loft, and just as Michael was arriving there, the sound engulfed the glassed-in area persistently. Madeline was now in Comm and turned towards the sound coming from the speakers surrounding Section One, while Birkoff raised his voice shouting commands to the operatives under his lead.

From his office Paul looked down at the organized chaos below and asked, "Birkoff what's happening down there?"

Birkoff was too busy to answer the anxious man. He was moving quickly from station to station, giving orders to the operatives that worked under his direction, "Kill all the nonessential processes now - dismount everything but the system volume."

Realizing what the young man's movements meant, and because Birkoff was not answering Operations' calls, the man ran down to Comm with Michael following close behind. The main area was abuzz with Operatives of all departments moving with measured well-rehearsed steps, from station to station, resolving whatever task was at hand. The place, like a well-crafted clock, ran smoothly especially in the face of potential danger.

//// Later at a briefing Operations explained to the Operatives present, "The Directory is a file containing the identity and cover of everyone in the Section. If we don't get it back, each of us becomes an unprotected target. We've switched operatives to alternate cover wherever possible. Whoever broke in knew our system; probably someone we've communicated with in the past, he left us a message."

Operations clicked his remote control and activated the holo-screen were a basically pleasant man holding a computer disc in his hand said. "Thanks."

An obviously surprised Operations stated, "Hardin." After a brief conversation where Paul determined what Hardin had done, wanted and had in his possession, the man on the screen expounded his wishes. "An auction. Two bidders – The Section and Benko. Send an operative to Prague immediately. Instructions will follow. If you try to sabotage me in any way, the Directory goes straight to Benko."

As the connection terminated and a determination was made that no trace was possible because the signal had been scrambled, Operations ordered Michael to leave for Prague. Michael was left wondering how much he was authorized to bid after a dismissive, "Whatever it takes, Michael" from Paul.

-----

After a very unpleasant meeting in Prague where Michael bid $30 Million, an amount Operations thought too low, Michael waited for Hardin's call. Seated around the designated phone Paul, Michael and Madeline discussed the possibilities presented to them, when the holo-screen came to life.

"Congratulations! The streets won't be littered with Section One bodies after all." Hardin said.

"Where's the Directory?" Paul asked in response, anger overwhelming him.

///

The City bus was full of passengers traveling to and from their pedestrian lives. Especially at this time of the day and with the inclement weather, people even those who owned cars, used Public Transportation as a means of transit that was safe, fairly comfortable and left the responsibility of driving to the chauffeur. For those passengers who wanted to people-watch or enjoy the architecture of the City, the heated bus provided them with the possibility of enjoying their hobbies in some semblance of comfort.

Nikita Wirth didn't own a car yet. She had been saving the money she'd earned at the Architectural Firm for which she interned, her plan was to buy a car as soon as she graduated from Poly with her degree in Architecture. But for now she rode the bus looking at the buildings, monuments, bridges, capturing in her mind's eyes the beauty she saw in the designs.

The bus was standing room only because all the seats were taken. 24-year-old Nikita had boarded early when there were plenty of seats available, so she was able to pick and choose; settling on a single seat that was next to the back exit. An elderly woman stood close by holding a metal bar, the look on her face that of fatigue so the pretty blonde called her over and offered her seat.

The pleasant looking man standing next to Nikita smiled at the blonde woman's gesture and patted her in the arm. She felt a sharp pain and Nikita thought the man had pricked her with his ring as she returned the smile. She donned her jacket as the proximity of the opening and closing door gave her a chill and the man bowed his head as he left the bus walking towards a warehouse.

Quickly Nikita forgot about the man when she spotted an incredible church a few blocks from where the man had disembarked. She pulled the cord that advised the driver that someone wanted to exit and got off. With camera in hand and a spring in her step she proceeded to enjoy the architecture of the baroque looking building.

When she arrived at home a few hours later she was cold and tired but had a wealth of photographs and new knowledge about the pretty church. She hung her jacket in the closet and noticed a red inflamed bite on the back of her forearm, but then remembered the man in the bus, it was not a bite. She moved to her bathroom to wash the scratch and cover it with some red tincture and a Band-Aid. Quickly she went to bed opting to take two Tylenol PM instead of eating, reading or watching television. Thinking of the man in the bus she mumbled before falling asleep. "I need a man."

////

Hardin had to deliver the Directory to Michael the next morning; he would then contact Benko and let him down easily. The dark clad man scared Hardin, but not half as much as Benko did. Hardin wanted this exchange of information over with, however he was not going to give Section the only copy of the Directory in existence - this had to have been the find of a lifetime.

Hardin needed his own copy as an insurance policy. So he had replicated the Directory from a conventional disk form to a tiny micro-disk that could be implanted in the blood stream painlessly for safe keeping and later the data could be transferred to disk form. He needed to keep his copy in a safe place, somewhere other than in his own person.

Hardin had boarded the bus and chose to stand next to a beautiful blonde who carried her jacket wrapped around her narrow hips. Since her arms were exposed the man introduced the Directory into her blood stream easily using a tiny syringe and continued flirting with her silently. He relieved her of her wallet when the bus lurched forward and she gave her seat to an elderly woman. He needed to find out whom she was for when the time came to reclaim his property.

His plan was brilliant; an innocent held a $30,000,000 jackpot without knowing it. In the near future he would arrange to run into the woman and romance her and then retrieve his copy of the Directory and make some more money off of it. He destroyed her wallet and its content after memorizing all the information it contained. As an added bonus, she was beautiful and he smiled at the thought that the plan would have its unexpected perks.

Hardin had completed this part of the plan purposely the day before his meeting with Section hoping they were not monitoring him. Little did he know that the woman the innocent had given her seat to was a Section Operative by the name of Belinda who was keeping an eye on Hardin. The Operative had taken photographs of everyone on the bus and had also noticed the nice blonde young woman who on his way out Hardin had brushed against.

----

The next morning came slowly as far as Hardin was concerned; he was nervous at having the Directory on him. He wore his coat and put the tiny chip in his top inside pocket and bundled himself against the very cold air whipping-around the trash on the streets.

Benko and his men, including a nervous Mick Schtoppel followed Hardin on his way to the meeting with Michael. When Hardin noticed that the men were following him, he ran across the street as a City bus stopped in its assigned weather covered bench. Hardin boarded the crowded bus making his way to the back door after paying the fare and exiting the bus some time later across from where Michael stood.

After a gunfight ensued, Hardin lay dead in the middle of the street and Benko's men disappeared. With an operative covering him, Michael approached Hardin's still body, rolled it over and removed one of his gloves as he checked the dead man's upper inside pocket. Swiftly Michael hid the tiny chip he found in his hand and donned the glove again.

To the other Operative Michael came up empty-handed and mumbled, "He doesn't have the disk."

----

Operations paced before the war room table, facing Michael he said. "Hardin had the Directory when he called. Now it is gone. What about the bus?" Michael answered. "It has been reduced to a pile of molecules. We found nothing."

Operations turned to Belinda, who for this last meeting had dressed as a younger woman so not to be recognized while following Hardin. "And, the passengers?"

Belinda looked at her notes. "There were eighteen today, but we now think Hardin may have planted the disk yesterday on one of the passengers hoping to retrieve it later."

Operations looked from Belinda to Michael and said. "Are you saying he had a partner on the bus?" Michael answered. "No. Most likely, he chose someone at random. We'll work her covertly."

Paul smirked as Nikita's picture was displayed on an overhead screen. "Her?" Madeline added. "We did what we could with this profile, an approach has been tailored for the passenger. We are going to send Gray Wellman in to work her."

Paul looked at Michael; he owed him some fun, after all it had been Op's fault that Michael lost Simone. "No. . . Michael will take this Madeline, it is much too important to trust that fool."

"Gray was an architect on the outside, this woman is at the Polytechnic Institute getting her degree." Madeline insisted, not wanting Michael to go into a potential deep blood cover.

"Madeline, you heard me. Gray is out, Michael is in."

///

Michael enjoyed few things in life as much as the relationship between Paul and Madelyn. He 'Huffed and Puffed and tore the house down' – that was Operations' approach, while Madeline was the Little Pig who built the house of bricks. And the Big Bad Wolfe loved the Little Pig, she had him wrapped around her finger and eventually got her way.

"Tell me Operations, what kind of Mission is this going to be – long and protracted? I need you to remember how important Michael is. . ." Madeline was murmuring as she walked with Paul into her office.

"I am not one of your Bonsai Madeline, you can't trim me here, cut off a growing limb there. . . I am Section One and I will not be made a fool. Sometimes I agree with Adrian's vision of your interest in Michael. . . he does what I want him to do and that is final." Paul was angry and sure that on this night he was going to be looking for love in all the wrong places – away from Madeline.

"Yes Paul." Sometimes Paul prevailed, especially when it came to keeping the handsome Cold Op away from his woman and furthermore it was time that Madeline loosened up.

"Christopher is making coq au vin. . ." Paul started and then realized Madeline was going to shoot him down, "for someone from Center who is coming to eat with me tonight, so I am going to be leaving now, see you tomorrow."

"Fine." Madeline said, realizing she was facing a set back, Paul was quicker than she gave him credit. Perhaps she would show up at his condo later that evening. Nothing like keeping him on his toes. . .ha!

---

Michael boarded the bus a stop before Nikita's usual stop. He sat by a window and waited until he saw her walk towards him. As arranged by the other Section personnel riding on the bus, the only unoccupied seat was next to Michael. Nikita's arms were full of books and other personal belongings; her Internship had ended – of course arranged by Section. She was upset.

Her books were falling out of her arms as she attempted to put them in order. Michael was busy ignoring his seatmate, taking photographs through the open window. She was hitting him with her elbow as she tried to grab a falling photo frame while she shoved them in her book-bag. She was crying and she was cold because of Michael's opened window.

Finally she went to dry her tears and the only book she had not put away fell on Michael's lap and then tumbled to the floor. Michael immediately bent to pick up the book. He looked at it as he handed it to her.

"I'm so sorry. Excuse me." Nikita said as Michael gave her the book and she said. "Thank you."

Michael smiled, letting his lilt wash over her. "They're still using Kicklighter's book for Design 101?" Nikita, all of a sudden realizing how handsome the man speaking was, said. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. This textbook is from my first Semester." Michael dove into her blue eyes, playing his sexuality to the hilt. "You go to City?"

Nikita could hardly speak. "I did my first two years. I go to Poly now." "Well, a word of warning then. . . keep away from Professor Zaylor. She's vicious." Nikita forgot about her disappointment for loosing the Internship. "Thanks. Are you an Architect? Michael nodded. "You went to City?

Michael smiled taking another book out of Nikita's bag. "Uh, yeah. For two years and then I graduated from Poly. Just like you." Nikita was impressed with this handsome green-eyed man. "Really? I like going to Poly.

Michael handed her the white book and said. "Yeah. Actually, this is a great book on the history of postmodern architecture." Nikita asked, "Oh, this one? This one isn't bad either. I mean I enjoyed it a lot."

----

Madeline knocked on the very tall double doors of Ops condo. She didn't need to be announced but when she got in the elevator the Concierge called Paul. Madeline was wearing an aubergine knit dress that clung to her body, the neckline plunged lower than usual and she smelled divine. Paul stood between the door and the frame, his tie was hanging haphazardly from his open collar and he looked disheveled.

"Madeline, why didn't you call. What are you doing here?" He said still blocking her entrance.

"I. . . am sorry Paul. I thought your meeting was probably already over and we've heard from Mick Schtoppel." Madeline said trying to look past Paul.

"And this couldn't wait, or you couldn't call me on a secure line?" Paul asked smirking.

"Mick Schtoppel said that Benko was satisfied that the Directory had gone back to their rightful owners – Section. However he was going to be keeping an eye on the people on the bus. He seems to think Mr. Hardin had a friend on the bus. Err Paul, are you going to keep me out here or are you going to let me in." Madeline exasperatedly asked.

Without opening the door or answering her question Paul said. "Have Mick set a meeting with Benko and a representative of the late Mr. Hardin who can claim to have a copy of the Directory. Weldman was on the bus, have him meet Benko in person; we'll be waiting. Good night Madeline." And Paul actually closed the door, laughing he went back to watching TV. He needed to teach Madeline a lesson; sometimes he needed to keep her on her toes – ha!

---

Michael told Nikita he needed to get off at the Church on the next stop, he wanted to look at it and take photos. Nikita told Michael that she knew the church as it was on the same block as her apartment building. Michael smiled and asked if he could help her with the books then.

"By the way I am Nikita Wirth." She said before standing to get off the bus.

"Michael Samuelle." He said and held her heavy book bag.

"It is beautiful." Michael commented as they stood outside the Church.

"It is large and ornate, but beautiful." She answered smiling as she watched him taking photos.

Michael said. "This church is one of the finest examples of what they were doing at the turn of the century. My father used to bring me here every once in awhile. He is an architect also."

Nikita smiled. "Was he hoping you got bitten by the bug?

Michael got serious. "No. He wanted to share with me one of my mother's favorite churches – she died young."

Nikita was enchanted by the Frenchman and apologized saying. "I am sorry, didn't mean. . ."

Michael took her hand and kissed it. "I should really get going, it is late."

Nikita, disappointment in her voice said hastily. "I'm sorry if I kept you." Michael smiled. "No, not at all. Actually, if you don't mind walking with me, I'd really like to hear some more about you." Nikita was blushing and thanking God it was getting dark so he couldn't see it. "I'm not boring you?"

Michael tilted her head and held her chin. "No!" Then he slipped his arm through hers and began walking. "Do you want to have dinner with me?"

"I would love to." Nikita said.

"Good. Perhaps you can suggest someplace around here?" He asked.

"There is Paissanos, not fancy but great food." Nikita answered. "First do you mind if I drop all my belongings at home?"

"Not at all. . ." Michael answered as they stood in front of Nikita's building. "I'll wait out here."

"Why, come on up." She said.

"No, it would not be proper, we just met. . .go hurry, I'll wait." Michael said, the soft-spoken man impressed her and he wanted to call Section to talk to Med Lab. He had seen the back of her arm where she had the implant and he didn't like the look of the lesion, after all the Directory was in the wound.

////

When Nikita returned to the street below her apartment, a black Mercedes Benz sedan was waiting for her. Michael's muscularly powerful and lean physique rested against the trunk, one booted foot propped on the fender. His face lit by the warm glow of a Clique as he concentrated reading something on the screen. His green eyes like emeralds illuminated by a fire deep within.

Nikita had changed her work clothing; she now wore a long suede coat trimmed with faux fur and a matching floppy hat warding her from the cold. Beneath, a short patent leather mini-skirt and boots and a thick sweater that matched her eyes. Michael looked up and smiled thinking once again, if he had to go into some long prolonged mission, it might as well have its perks – this woman was definitely a reward.

"Mr. Samuelle," Nikita mocked. "Just one more question, you're a fairly successful man - why were you taking the bus?

Michael separated from the car and smiled at the beauty before him. "Gives me a chance to look at old buildings."

Nikita reaching the proffered opened passenger door said. "An architect who likes to ride the bus."

"I changed my mind about the restaurant after seeing that outfit." Michael said.

"No, no, you'll love my choice, I promise. Where did the car come from?" She asked.

"I took a cab and picked it up from the bus stop." Michael's phone rang and he answered it as Nikita took in the interior of the luxurious car, he didn't say much into the receiver. Michael hung up and turned to Nikita "My office - it seems one of our assistants quit, she is getting married. You wouldn't be looking for work?"

"Oh my God Michael. Today on the bus, I was crying. . ." she told him and then interrupted her answer to show him the restaurant, he looked for a parking space near the entrance. "Well, I was crying because all of a sudden my internship ended and I found myself out of a job and of course my College credits would be affected."

Michael stepped out of the car and moved swiftly to the passenger door to open it for an impressed Nikita. "So. . . you do need a job?"

"YES!" She answered excitedly as they walked into the restaurant and were ushered to a tiny table in the back by a roaring fire in a brick fireplace.

"Good." And Michael in perfect Italian communicated with the Owner his desire for the Restaurant's best bottle of wine before even looking at the menu.

----

Walter on the phone with Operations was explaining what Section determined after their conversation with Schtoppel. When Madeline left Paul's home he had called Walter to get fully briefed. Walter also recounted his discussion with Michael concerning Nikita's infected bruise.

"Doc says that considering the Science involved this is a scary proposition at best." Walter said.

"What do you mean, if removing the Directory will kill her. . . well Walter so be it." Paul said.

"No, it is not that easy Operations. The Doc says that if we attempt to remove the Implant, it will send a signal to whomever Hardin programmed it for, putting the Directory back out there. The only way of keeping it safe is if the vessel, in this case Nikita Wirth continues to carry it."

"Jesus Walter, for how long do we need to keep this woman safe?" Paul asked.

Walter with Birkoff besides him feeding him information answered. "Until we can figure out a different way. Remember Benko has his own intelligence network. By now, he knows as much about the implant as we do and it is a matter of time before he figures out one of the bus passengers has the implant."

"Yes, I told Madeline to communicate with Schtoppel. We'll make him think Wellman has the Directory. If we can't get the Directory, let's at least bring down Benko." Paul answered.

"Operations, what do we do about the girl?" Walter asked.

"We keep Michael on her, Center approved a Deep Blood Cover if necessary. We keep that Directory safe at all costs or not only Section One ceases to exist." Paul said hanging up.

---

Back in the restaurant Nikita and Michael were having a truly enjoyable dinner. The food was wonderful, the wine superb and Nikita had proven to be excellent company. Michael was mesmerized by her warm personality, her knockout looks and her indescribably sensuality. He had told her about her new job, she needed to report to his father's associate in the morning and had given her the address. Walter would soon enough become part of the Mission.

Michael was under orders to please and wow this beautiful woman and he was up for the challenge. After losing Simone he had stopped living – really living. And Michael listened to Nikita's bubbling character and because she did everything with gusto – he wondered if she was the same way in bed.

But Michael knew that he needed to take it slow, to razzle dazzle her and sweep her off her feet. Sweep her off her feet, now there was a thought. His phone vibrated and Michael hit a glass while supposedly reaching for Nikita's hand. The move sent water flying and Michael had to excuse himself and rush to the bathroom to dry his sweater sleeve.

"Oui?" He answered when he entered the single stall room and locked the door.

"Jacques. We are ready to go live." A faceless Operative reported.

"Link me up." Michael answered.

'This is Mick Schtoppel. How did you know to contact us?
"We were partners with the late Mr. Hardin."
"Oh, really? I didn't think Hardin had any partners."
"Really. Well, there's a lot you don't know."
"Look, you're dealing with me. Did you want to play Twenty Questions, or do you want the Directory?"
"Here's the offer. You give us the Directory, and we let you live."
"I told you I wanted to meet Benko."
"That's not possible."
"I'll bet it is. You tell him that when he's ready to meet me to give me a call."
"Tomorrow at noon. City Center Park."
"It's a big park."
"We'll find you. Bring the Directory."

Michael heard both phones hang up and the Faceless Operative return to the phone and speak with Michael. "Jacques, that was it, do you need anything else?"

"Not for now, thank you." And Michael hung up returning to Nikita's side, having dried his sleeve with the hand-dryer in the bathroom. He apologized to the woman, the tablecloth had been changed and the second course arrived shortly after Michael sat back down at the table.

Michael had to figure out a way to speak about her cut; he needed to get the cut looked at by one of the Medlab physicians. Perhaps this could be worked out once she was working for them in the morning. Michael understood from the Section doctor that she could not go to a non-Section hospital or doctor to have her 'injury' examined.

////

The evening was coming to an end, the vulnerable woman was too volatile to ignite with passion and Michael knew it well. He wanted to forget his pain and what a better way to spend his intent than in the gorgeous Nikita. Astoundingly beautiful and stunningly sensual the woman would positively be enchanting in the sack, but not yet; this was not the time or place. Michael was horny, not stupid and Section One was watching.

"Do you want to come. . . up?" She asked, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

He sucked the thumb into his mouth and smiled. "No. . . not yet, I'll come. . .up eventually, I promise."

"When?" She asked as he moved to tenderly kiss her lips, but instead kissed her face.

"Soon." He whispered smiling widely. "You are breathtaking. Good night." And then he kissed her nose.

Nikita stood with wobbly legs, against the door to the building. The memory of an almost kiss painfully present. She didn't answer, just watched him walk away not looking back, throwing over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, 10:00 am sharp."

----

Sleep didn't come easily to Michael, sexual frustration proving a powerful insomniac. Sometimes being a Section Cold Op was a pain in the ass, other times such as this, it truly sucked. Michael tossed and turned and decided to go into Section earlier than usual, to verify that all the arrangements for a successful mission were in place.

Also sexually frustrated Paul walked into Section moments after Michael and noticed the light through the younger man's office window blinds. Walking pass the window, the head of Section rapped the glass and motioned Michael to follow him. Michael looked up and nodded; standing up he buttoned the black jacket he wore.

"What are you doing here so early?" Operations asked Michael. "Let's have coffee and talk."

"Fine." Michael and Ops walked towards the man's private dining room discussing the mission.

Operations reclined in the futuristic chair while he drank orange juice. "I don't know why we are still at this point with Madeline?

Michael was uncomfortable; he didn't want to have this conversation with Operations. "Nikita is a civilian. She's done nothing wrong." Operations sat up on the chair and topped off Michael's coffee cup, encouraging him to drink. "That is completely irrelevant, and you know it! Doesn't Madeline understand what's at stake here?" "She understands." Michael didn't want to hear Operations' theory of why Madeline was against the possible deep blood cover mission for Michael.

Operations looked at Michael take a bite out of a croissant. "I know you are a widower who also lost a young child, but I don't want any sentimentality on Madeline's part getting in the way of this mission. You are a Cold Op, a Level Five at that. . . You don't need a baby sitter or a mother. Is that clear Michael?

Michael answered. "Of course." Operations placed his coffee cup on the table and moved forward while addressing Michael. "She does a good job, but she lacks perspective when dealing with you, that's all. You don't think she's forming an attachment to you? Operations asked.

Michael's facial expressions didn't give Operations a clue as to what he was thinking. He was curious as to where this conversation was going but did not want to encourage it. Michael said. "I don't think she has."

Operations picked up his coffee cup and said. "Good. I decided to amend the profile, I am going to be playing your father and business partner instead of Walter. I have not been out on a Mission in a long time and this is much too important to allow anyone else to take it. Hey, Madeline can be your mother, she wants it so badly."

Of course Michael knew that Operations wanted to be close to Madeline and play house. Michael nodded and looked at the beeping computer screen at the end of the table. Operations pointing to it after taking a sip of his coffee said. "I take it Wellman did well last night?"

////

Around 8 a.m. Gray Wellman walking in City Center Park on a bitterly cold day waited patiently for his meeting with Benko. He thought back to his life before Section, he'd been falsely accused of a hideous crime 'dying in prison', thus loosing custody of his daughter Casey to his wife and her new husband. As he watched Operatives skating on an outdoor rink and walking hand in hand, he thought how the first year had been the toughest imagining his poor Casey asking 'when was her daddy coming home'. Even a heartless bitch like his wife would surely find it a little tricky to explain death to a three-year-old.

He couldn't continue the distracting thoughts, so he assured himself that the child missed him terribly. He again noticed more Section Operatives in their disguises and the black Section van, which probably held Birkoff monitoring his every move. That gave him a sense of security.

Birkoff talking on the radio. "He is leaving the rink. . . heading south across the square." Michael from his place above the park said, "Got him." And when he saw Gray wandering off course. "Stay in the grid, a few degrees south."

Gray turned slowly in the prescribed direction but first mumbled "Who's idea was it to take a walk in subzero temperatures?"

Birkoff answered laughing. "It was mine. Check out the blue windbreaker to your left. See if it's Benko." And after Gray dismissed that idea Birkoff told Michael, "Michael, he's over an hour late. When do you want to call it?"

"Okay everyone in, we're terminating." Michael ordered.

As Gray approached the Section van he was intercepted by another van whose back doors opened while Mick got out. Michael who was still outside the Section vehicle said into his com unit. "Everyone hold, let's see what happens."

Mick addressed Gray. "Hello, darling, how are you? Just remember, okay, you asked for this." He pushed Gray inside were Benko waited. Benko smiled. "Hello. Do you have the disk?"

Gray answered. "No, not on me. By the way, I never thanked you for killing Hardin. You increased my profit by a half."

Benko disgusted said, "Take me to the Directory now."

Gray laughed, "I can't do that."

Mick questioned him also, "And, why is that?" Gray again laughing, "Well, because there are instructions set that if I don't return on my own, the Directory gets destroyed. And furthermore, killing me is not going to get you the Directory, Fifty million dollars will."

Before Gray could say another word, Benko placed a bronze necklace on his neck. Gray asked, "What are you doing?"

Benko smirked, "Don't touch it, the necklace is equipped with a microphone and explosives. Everything you say or do including any efforts you might make to remove it will be heard. If, for any reason, we don't like what we hear. . .Boom. Now, I will see you in the center of the Square, you be there in two hours. Get out!" And Gray got off waiting until the van was completely out of the area. He then finally moved towards the Section van typing on Birkoff's laptop: BENKO WIRED ME. The van moved to Section.

At Section Operations asked Michael, "Can Walter diffuse the plastique?" Michael answered realizing he had little time before he had to meet Nikita, "He says it's too risky. Benko might hear it. We have to give Benko a scenario that he is comfortable with."

Birkoff entered Ops office and said, "The sonogram is training the voice program now. In two minutes we should be able to generate short sentences so that Benko can't trace the communication. Real conversation from Gray would allow Benko to triangulate our position."

Michael asked, looking at his watch again, "And, the other effects?" Birkoff answered, "They're all ready. We're just waiting on this." Michael left the room to ask Walter to take the meeting with Nikita. Birkoff continued to work on the voice simulation.

In the meantime at Benko's headquarters, Mick Schtoppel wearing headphones played with knobs to increase the volume and get a better reception, they could not hear a word.

Benko waiting impatiently asked, "What the hell is he doing! Why aren't we hearing anything?"

Mick shrugged his shoulders, "It's sending, and we're receiving."

////

At 9:15 am Nikita Wirth called the Taxi Company asking for her usual driver. At 9:30 am she left her apartment, mirror and lipstick in hand while she applied the pink shade to her lips; she smiled pleased with the reflection on the tiny compact. A black clad operative watched her from a balcony above.

The taxi driver, a woman who Nikita asked for by name when calling that taxi company, engaged Nikita in conversation about the blonde's black choker necklace. She looked beautiful dressed in a mid-calf black dress that buttoned in the front, from the collar to the hem. She wore tiny heels and her red painted toes showed through the sandal's bare front.

"Where are you going looking so pretty?" The taxi driver asked Nikita.

"My first day at work." The blonde answered as she checked her face in the mirror for the umpteenth time and gave the driver the address.

"You look more like if you where going to dinner with a handsome man," The driver said.

"Yes? Would that be a problem? Nikita laughed.

"Other than it is early morning. . . it would depend. Would it be about dinner, or something more? The elderly woman driving the cab answered.

"I understand. . .the dress is too obvious, no?" Nikita said.

"Exactly." The driver answered pulling up to the front of the warehouse. "But, if knowing that the dress makes that kind of a statement you still want to proceed, I just hope he's good." Nikita smiled paying the driver and saying. "I'm sure he's fabulous."

"Good luck." The driver pulled away from the seemingly abandoned site.

Across the street another black clad Operative watched the woman get off the cab before it drove away. The man stood in the shadows and as Nikita approached the glass double doors of the warehouse the man said in a whisper. "Subject entering building."

--- Nikita was surprised of the futuristic facilities inside what appeared as an abandoned warehouse. The walls were stainless steel. The floor polished concrete. The art work hanging around the cavernous edifice modernistic and colorful. There were plenty of office workers milling around the lobby.

She approached a reception area and asked shyly, looking at the business card Michael had given her the night before. "S1 Architectural?"

One of the darkly uniformed guards smiled an obviously fake smile and answered. "Second hallway to the right."

Nikita cleared her throat. "Thank you." She felt as if she had just entered a bad scene from "Men in Black."

When Nikita moved away from the marvel and concrete counter one of the other guards reported. "Subject on her way." Smiling when he heard Walter yell. "And. . .Action."

----

The two hours were almost up; it was 9:30 in the morning. Benko's hands resting on Mick Schtoppel's shoulders said, as he turned the bold headed man around, "So if we are receiving, where is he?"

"What do you mean, how should I know?" Schtoppel answered

"The device has a tracker – activate it." Benko spat out.

"Look, we got the contraption off the back of an ex KGB operative's car, I didn't ask if it had a tracker or how to work it. . ." Mick answered, as pissed off as Benko.

Benko surprisingly backed off, "If he doesn't say anything satisfactory in the next 5 minutes, blow him to smithereens."

Instantaneously as if scripted, the terrorists heard a door opening and closing and footsteps before being totally floored by the voice they heard – the Late Mr. Hardin.

Hardin exasperated voice: "Where have you been? Did you have the meeting?" Gray angry replied: "Yeah, I had the meeting. Where's the Directory?" Hardin eager: "What about the money?" Gray shouting: "Forget the money! I'm gonna die!" Hardin sarcastic: "We'll all die eventually. What are you talking about?" Gray afraid: "See this thing around my neck? It's plastique. Benko pushes a button, I'm history." Hardin, footsteps as if walking around Gray: "Nice jewelry." Gray demanding: "Give me the disk." Hardin calmly: "Let's think for a minute." Gray at the end of his literate rope: "We don't have a minute. I have to meet Benko in less than an hour, and he's listening to every word we say." Hardin surrendering, soft voice: "It's still in the top left drawer where you left it." 2 sets of footsteps, an opening drawer, a sigh, a closing drawer as Gray requested. "Stay here 'til I get back."

The terrorist's den remained in total silence as they heard more footsteps, a door opening and closing and the loud mixed sounds of traffic. At Section One's recording studio Birkoff silently motioned that it was a wrap and Gray sat quietly waiting for TPTB to set his fate. Hopefully they would choose to end his vassalage (captivity), but he knew better, part of Section's punishment to the ghosts that roamed their halls was to make them agonize.

////

Nikita Wirth pushed open the frosted glass doors marked with the S1 logo. Immediately she found herself inside a small reception area from where she could see a not too large opened space full of drafting tables, desks and computers. Very few people mostly young worked in a small group.

"My name is Nikita Wirth, I am here to see Michael Samuelle." She told the woman sitting at the reception desk.

"Michael is not here yet, but Walter is expecting you." The young woman replied, dialing Walter's extension.

Walter came bounding in, surprising Nikita with his bandana and ponytail. "Hey there, you must be Michael's girl."

"I. . ." She wanted to clarify she was no one's girl when the old hippie laughed.

"I know, I know – sexist, no harm intended. I am sorry, I am Walter, I've been expecting you; Michael told me all about you. . . wonderful. Come with me please." He remarked saying something to the receptionist, which made the girl blush.

They passed the drafting tables and desks and the few employees and entered an office, very neat as if no one worked there. Walter moved to one side of the desk as Nikita sat on the other side crossing her long shapely legs. There were pictures in frames and art hanging on the walls, occupational licenses and diplomas from great architectural institutions of higher learning adorning the offices.

"Tell me Sugar, do you want something to drink. . .No? Well then, when do you get a break in your semester?" Walter asked.

"Tomorrow is my last exam until September, I usually don't go to summer school." Nikita answered nervously.

"I see, then you start the day after tomorrow, unless you want to take time off? Do you have a passport?" He asked.

"No, I'm ready for work now. A passport? Well, not a French one, I do have my Australian one." She answered puzzled.

"That is fine, I need to see what the Americans require. . . no - tell you what, that is your first assignment, but you are to take these two days off – we'll pay you. After you fill the necessary government documents for employment, then I want you to go study. The day after tomorrow you go to the American Embassy and find out what you need to travel to the US." Walter was hurrying through all this, he needed to get back to the Benko mission and give Nikita something to do far from the facilities.

"Yes. . . does that mean I got the job and I am going to be traveling?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yes to both. Look 'Sugar', do you mind if I call you that?" The older man said as he fidgeted with the laptop facing him, monitoring the preparation of the Gray mock-up they would be using in the active mission. "The job was yours since last night, no contest. Now you are going to be our research assistant. We are going to give you a cell phone and laptop with dial-up; this will keep us connected to you. Your pay will be direct deposited; Birkoff will show you how to use the laptop, the camera and give you your assignment. Any questions for me?"

"No, well. . . when do I come into the office. Who do I report to . . . I am a bit confused? Is Michael coming back, I want to. . . thank him." Nikita said.

"I am not sure when Michael will be back, I hope you'll be on your way to completing your assignment – studying - even before he gets here. It was important to Michael that you were given an assignment that would afford you the flexibility to continue with your studies."

Walter made stuff up as he went along, it was obvious to him that Nikita needed and expected answers. This set up was strange at best and thankfully his explanation seemed to have allayed her concerns. Madeline and Michael needed to work up a more plausible profile, but until then having her study was the best he could come up with in such short notice.

"I'm sorry Walter, this has got to be the dream job of a life time, I'm speechless." Nikita said. "What is my first assignment, after getting my updated passport?"

"And taking the next two days for yourself." Walter added.

"Dream job. . ." Nikita said.

"Everyone reacts the same way and that is exactly how we intended the entire group to feel; the best job in the World. Now, the assignment – oh yes the Church you two saw last night. We need you to research its history, including the materials used, the costs, each and every remodeling, addition, etc. – you get the picture." Walter hated lying to this beautiful woman – the best job in the world my ass.

"Sounds great, now where is this Mr. Birkoff you want me to meet?" Nikita asked.

"He is out with Michael. You go now, study for the test. Here is your S1 credit card so you can charge your expenses, including taxis and of course your cell phone. Birkoff will call you about the laptop and to set up an appointment to train you."

"Alright." Nikita shyly said.

"All the other information – insurance, pay scale, etc. is all in here." Handing her a laptop. "Very nice meeting you, it will be good working with you." He said ushering her out the office door. Walter realized how empty the office looked and smiled at the blonde adding. "Notice how few employees are in our office right now. Our theory is that employees' sitting in an office are not creating or accomplishing as much as those out there. . . it works."

"I'll call in this afternoon, I need to thank Michael." She smiled.

"Please, by then I am sure Birkoff will be back." Walter added shaking her hand and she walked back out into the common area of the building. At the front door, a couple of cabs waited for passengers, she got in one cab and a couple got on another.

From the building across the street a black clad Operative reported. "Subject in motion."

-----

Grey Weldman fidgeted in his seat in a containment van across the street from the park bench where a mannequin resembling his persona sat doomed to dummy hell. Listening intently to his comm unit as Birkoff revealed Benko, Mick Schtoppel and another man's presence in the park. Birkoff reported that the men were crossing the street towards Gray's motionless double and although Gray didn't have visual, he imagined the terrorists opening the black case carrying his lifeline, his freedom – the detonating device for the necklace.

Benko spied Gray's dummy and ordered his colleagues. "There he is. Go get the disk. One of you stay with him until I've checked it out." Schtoppel and the other man moved across the avenue to Gray's dummy sitting in place on the stone bench in a pensive posture. Section traffic, both pedestrian and vehicular stalled the men's approach; an Operative purposely crashing into Mick, while a truck blocked their view of the dummy. Reaching for their guns as they again started to move when suddenly the mannequin's head exploded sending the men to the ground. Across the way, close to where Gray waited for the worse, Benko confused and in shock looked at the remote he knew he had not detonated.

Turning to escape, Benko faced Michael's menacing figure, gun drawn. "You lost again, Benko."

Benko who still held the real remote said. "Section One. What are you waiting for? Why don't you shoot me?" A controlled Michael answered. "You might be worth something to us alive."

Benko smiled at Michael. "So, the Directory is still at large?" Not receiving an answer from the still Operative he added. "I'm afraid some of you will continue to walk around with the Sword of Damocles over your head."

Michael was becoming impatient with the funny looking man who was flanked by Operatives. Benko motioned towards the splintered dummy and remarked. "Your man. . . he's still alive."

And a 'necklaced' Gray moved behind Benko engulfing him in an embrace stating. "Oh, yeah. Very much alive." Michael's gun continued trained on the terrorist as Gray's hand moved to hold Benko's hand, which held the remote. Gray wanting for his Section life to end commanded. "Go on, Benko. Push the button." Michael distracted for a second at a flash of flaxen hair getting out of a cab thought. "Nikita." Michael's attention shifted watching her from behind his sun glasses move slowly through the myriad of stores and kiosks on the other side of the park. He ascertained she had not spotted him and moved further behind the wide column before him. Back to the matter at hand, he heard the end of Gray's remark to Benko. "Neither one of us has much to lose. Go on." Benko released the remote handing it over to a disappointed Gray who was unsure if he was happy with the turn of events. Operatives moved taking custody of Benko, removing the necklace from Gray's neck and moving the men to the Section van. Michael moved expeditiously towards the other side of the park and Nikita. He embraced a female Operative and whispered the Nikita anomaly to the woman, the only way he could think of keeping Benko from hearing his report. "And terminate all monitoring, I am in play."

Michael approached Nikita as she entered a branch of the public library. Calling her name in that sexual way, he added. "You know it's weird. I haven't been to the library in months. Funny how people meet."

Nikita half smiled, she had seen Michael from across the street embracing the woman and was mad. "Sorry? Sorry? What did you say?"

Michael realizing something was wrong asked her to go for coffee with him, "Uh, listen, Michael, I've gotta go. Believe it or not, I've got homework." Michael flirting grabbed one of her hands, playing with her fingers. "You need help? I've got a house."

Nikita's resolve melting, but the memory of the pretty woman engulfed in Michael's arms still bothering her. "Not now. Thanks." Michael now held both of the woman's hands. He knew something was wrong and realized it was not the explosion for it was so contained that she could not have seen it. Then he remembered the woman and the embrace. "Listen, Nikita, I don't mean to scare you, but. . ."

Nikita now mad at herself for not being stronger petulantly asked. "What?"

Michael's voice dipping, accent exaggerating, eyes devastating, moving in for the kill. "I like being with you."

Acting all brave and trying desperately to hide her obvious fear. "It takes a lot more than that to scare me."

"I was just telling my cousin how. . . conflicted I feel around you. . ." Leaning in and kissing her at first chastely, then a bit hungrily – tongues battling. When he tried to pull away, she followed like a chick following its sustenance.

She sighed, all fear replaced by longing. "Now I'm scared."

Michael stroked her lips. "Good. Come on." Wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. "So you met Walter. . ."

////

Michael could monitor through his cochlear implant the activities at Section's van access as the team returned with the detainees. Gray, relieved of his necklace had taken point, as far as managing the return of the prisoners. Birkoff reviewed the information retrieved from Benko. The Directory still missing and the Intel of its whereabouts the subject to be discussed in Madeline's White Room.

Michael and Nikita continued walking through the park. Although he was somewhat distracted with the 'going-ons' inside his ear, she was enrapturing him with her recount of her first visit to S1. But then Nikita noticed his answers where not matching her questions.

She asked, having decided to drag him back to her sphere of attention. "So how did you get into this profession?"

"Hmm." Michael said.

"Earth to Michael." Nikita mocked.

"I am sorry." Thinking fast. "What are you wearing beneath that coat, your leg peaking in and out is distracting me."

"You mean this old thing?" Flashing him a view of the dress.

"Wow, thank you. . .I can now go back to the task at hand." Michael said. "Well, I just sort of fell into architecture. There's lots of stuff I wanted to study. I mean, I studied dance for awhile. . . and. . ."

"Dance?" Nikita did a dance step and laughed. "You are kidding."

"Sexist aren't you?" Michael added.

"You've been talking to Walter?" She asked.

"Exactly." Pulling her to him and wrapping his arm around her waist. "You know. . . architecture is working out."

As the couple turned a corner to enter a quaint cafι, Michael noticed the two men standing covertly a few steps away from them watching their every move. He instinctively tried to shield Nikita from the men's gaze. His body tensed and Nikita noticed; she looked at his face, which was unchanged and asked. "What's wrong?

Michael asked smiling faintly. "Nothing. Do you mind if we take a cab?" And instead of entering the establishment he flagged down a cab, Michael calling. "Taxi!"

Nikita annoyed at the turn of events and wondering what was up said. "Sure."

Michael watched the men moving towards them and quickly told the blonde woman as he literary shoved her in the car. "Listen, do you mind if I take a rain check? I've got some stuff to do, things to pick up."

Nikita was not letting up, even noticed the suspicious characters approaching them. "Is there something wrong?" Michael answered instructing the cabbie of Nikita's home address. "No. Nothing's wrong. Not at all. Just, uh. . . okay, so dinner later, and I've got your number."

As Michael closed the cab door she answered. " Absolutely, it'd be fantastic, I'd love it, thanks."

Michael hit the side of the car as it joined the traffic, speeding off. Michael moved slowly, his hand on his gun as he turned around to face the approaching men. Their gazes crossed, but the men moved passed him. He looked around the perimeter for the reason the men had aborted their intended target, namely him and saw Davenport and Chuck approaching. When Michael turned to locate the men that had been following him, the men had disappeared into the wave of humanity leaving the nearby theater.

"Michael, Operations wants you in immediately; we have been breached again and he didn't want to use the monitoring devices." Chuck said.

"I see. . . the two men. . ." Michael started.

"Have been detained, they are on their way to Section." Davenport answered as the trio moved to the waiting black SUV.

Michael was concerned that Nikita had not made it to her apartment since she was not being monitored so he called to check on her. Davenport called to reinstate the Operative stationed across the street from her apartment. Traffic was light and they would be arriving at Section shortly.

"Hi." Michael said even before Nikita could greet him.

"Hi." She smiled as his voice filled her with warmth; she threw her keys on the counter and slipped out of the coat.

"Tonight take your coat, but wear the same dress Walter told me about." He said.

"Will do." She answered laughing.

"Study now will call you later." He answered and hung up, not giving her time to speak.

Across the street the Operative in place behind an iron gate reported. "Subject safe."

////

'Life is a dance. . . whether a two-step, fox trot or a tempered waltz . . .Life is a warm embrace set to music; a longing choreographed gaze; or a well orchestrated caress leading couples to sway sultrily to the music in their heads. The couple moved to the tropical sounds of a tango, insinuating expected highs, while insuring perfect centers and avoiding troublesome lows.' Nikita Wirth smiled at the paper back on her lap melting in the heated gaze of the cover's depiction of the hero embracing the busty heroine.

The blonde should have been studying, but Michael's green eyes had haunted her thoughts as she spied the paperback sitting on her coffee table. She had picked up the romance novel and read on. 'Somehow she knew he would put an end to the self-imposed loneliness she experienced, but only in her dreams. For she was aware that this was just a dream, a plot for a future book, a story full of permanent hope. She sat up from her nap, her face flushed by the embarrassment of her delusional existence.'

Nikita pondered her social situation. One thing was to be alone because no one asked you out, another to spend lonely nights wondering if the logic of keeping yourself looking poorly was self-deprecating at best. But Nikita had her reasons for being alone, for doing everything possible to remain single – until now that was her goal. Michael had changed all that; suddenly she was ready to go back to being the woman she'd been before Helmut Volkner. Suddenly she was going to fight for a good man's love.

'Her dreams had shown the man's molded abs rippling softly under the closeness of their taut bodies. They had danced and scorched the area with their heated lust. She had rested her hand casually on his neck, her manicured fingers brushing softly the copper curls that laid on the handsome man's collar. He had squeezed his eyes hoping that the jumping member rubbing against her warm dress didn't betray his desire for the woman too soon.'

Nikita laughed out loud, the moistness between her legs increasing as she read on. 'The blonde smiled as his lips kissed a path from her chin to the dress strap that lay precariously on a nude arm. The moon outside the restaurant window was big and round and full. The many couples rotated around the soon to be lovers but where not seen by the enthralled couple. The light of the moon held loads of promises that were more like guarantees instead. Would they live happily ever after, the Spy and the Mark – who knew? But for sure they would at least have one very perfect night. A night when their promenading would win trophies in the dance that was life.'

The book ended leaving Nikita with the same emptiness she detested feeling. She wondered if she should call Michael and thought not. She was not convinced about the cousin story; the display of affection the blonde woman witnessed was hardly easily explained away.

------ Michael Samuelle relaxed in his Section's Close Quarters, after an exhaustive day full of difficult missions all assigned to him by Madeline. He had called Nikita early on and excused his postponement of their dinner plans using plausible pretexts that the woman had not balked at. She had not been obvious about her disappointment, however Michael had realized the woman was not buying his excuses.

He told her about a number of personal and professional responsibilities he'd thought could be delayed further but that had reared their ugly heads and stopped him from further procrastinating. Situations that would totally take over his life for the next couple of days, hopefully the explanations had successfully excused his absence.

Walter and Birkoff would make sure that the woman was kept busy with some architectural assignment that would equally keep her away from the general vicinity of S1, which was nothing more than Section's street level. Birkoff would show up at Nikita's apartment carrying a laptop, a cell phone and anything that they though would favorably keep her at bay. A call or two from Michael would hopefully keep Nikita thinking the handsome man was still interested in her.

Nikita nonplused told the man that his absence was probably a good thing, as she had to study and wrap up her schooling before her job made her too busy. After hanging up the phone Nikita had resigned herself, accepting the call as a final goodbye from Michael. She had seen the embrace with his supposed cousin, the image burnt in her mind.

The roses that had arrived minutes after the call had not done much to allay her sadness. Especially since Madeline had replaced the totally romantic card Michael had written, with one that only read 'Michael.' But Nikita had been glad when Gray had shown up at her apartment soon thereafter bearing tools for her trade. The man's presence in Nikita's home assured her that her job was intact, even if her short lived tryst with Michael had been just that. And Gray was charming and attentive, not too shabby, after all beggars can't be choosers.

---

Michael's complicated existence had continued with Madeline making sure his assignments were so time consuming that Paul would decide to give the Nikita mission to Gray Weldman. She knew better than Operations when it came to the handsome younger man's psyche and she was sure Michael was not up to the task of a deep blood cover. Since Paul was not going to allow her to interfere in the Nikita mission, Madeline would make sure Nikita herself cooled off the fast moving attraction.

Madeline had manipulated Paul by suggesting Michael for every mission that came on the pad. So Michael had first disarmed the last bomb implanted in one of the suicide bombers that followed Benko. Six out of the 14 members of Benko's group had detonated their surgically implanted explosives after being brought into Section. Michael had decided Benko himself needed to be in Containment just in case.

Sure enough, Benko had exploded moments after he had been confined in the secured room. The interrogation of Mick Schtoppel had revealed the strong probability of a second copy of the Directory having been in Hardin's possession. Then soon after the Benko mission had ended Operations had called another briefing, assigning Michael to oversee the mission from Section while Davenport took point on site – Madeline's suggestion.

"This is com-sat Alpha. It is Center's most sophisticated satellite and it also serves as the link for 6 other orbiting birds. Every byte of data that is up-linked or down-linked passes through Alpha. Yesterday it dropped from its orbit and we lost communications to Birkoff who is on assignment elsewhere so. . . Corman." Operations had explained.

Corman had nervously continued. "Orbital decay began about a month ago and all attempts to re-establish were unsuccessful. Now I've extrapolated a curve based on Alpha's trajectory just before we lost contact. Given a plus or minus factor of 80KM we suspect that the satellite impacted in the United States. In a town just north of Chattanooga Tennessee called Dingman's Hollow."

Operations had added. "Of course again Birkoff is overseeing Mr. Corman." This was also for the benefit of the Center Representative who was present at the briefing. "Center is highly exposed on this mission. The amount of confidential data and classified information contained in Alpha's central processing unit is critical. Davenport and his team are on sight under U.S. clearance performing a universal geological survey. Michael will be handling tactical because we cannot risk exposure. The details will be on your panels."

Then, a call from the CIA had sent Michael's team out to determine who the bad guys really were, in a drug deal gone array. He hated these ridiculous assignments; Michael was sure someone else could make these decisions and perform these tasks. But Michael wanted eventually to be in charge of Section and he would do what he needed to do to accomplish his goal.

Now he lay on his bed after taking a shower waiting to call Nikita and spend time with her on the phone. He didn't want to talk or listen or play house with her, or anyone else for that matter. In fact all he wanted was to sleep – alone. He listened to music and closed his eyes for a short nap after having a final conversation with Davenport who was getting ready to leave the United States.

Davenport spoke with Michael over a secured line. "So we've replaced all these people with our own?"

Michael answered adjusting the volume of his earpiece. "Yes. They had a field trace on the Mailman. We hit Black Storm Central some hours ago."

Davenport asked. "So Dingman's Hollow..."

Michael retorted. "Section 6."

The black Section vehicle had driven away from the quaint hamlet. There on the main road that led the black clad travelers to a Chattanooga private airport, the van blended into the slow traffic of weekend travelers. And as the Special Ops looked out the tinted windows they saw the sign, 'You Are Now Leaving Dingman's Hollow.' Madeline satisfied with Davenport's report hung up the extension phone. Michael had been kept busy as planned, her manipulation of Michael's time would not be judged by Operations as interference on her part.

----

Operations tired from the hectic day walked into the Tower announcing that he was home, Madeline awaiting upstairs in the loft acknowledged him. The remains of a set table with lit candles caught his vision, so he moved to blow out the almost spent wax. He heard her and looking up said. "A heroin deal went bad two days ago. Buyers and sellers were slaughtered. We needed to find the people who perpetrated the rip-off."

From the loft Madeline looked down at him, she rested her hands on the railing and glad one more assignment had gone to Michael she said. "We're suddenly chasing street criminals?" He moved up the stairs compelled by her relaxed beauty. "This is as serious as it gets. They were CIA."

Madeline guided her superior and lover towards a table she had set for him in the sitting area. The couple talked about the days' occurrences and drank fine wine from crystal goblets. They retired to bed soon after Operation finished eating his supper. . . or was it late lunch.

-----

Paul and Madeline were naked in bed while she lay on top of a happy Operations, who played with her hair which cascaded against his naked chest. Madeline spoke authoritatively explaining her position. ". . .You know, just seems a bit too soon, Simone is hardly cold."

He picked up his head and buried his blue eyes in her brown ones. "You don't feel the same way I do?"

Madeline smiled. "No, I do. Of course, I do, and, I really want to agree that Michael should marry her. I. . . It's just. . . he's like a son and. . . it's going to be hard for him to enter this mission marriage." Paul stroked her hair with a gentle hand. "We've got to start somewhere." Madeline was apprehensive at best. "I know this mission is important. I don't want him to start something that he can't finish. If Michael gets killed or hurt on a mission. . ."

Paul kissed the top of her head. "No guarantees in life. Are there guarantees in life? Well, death and taxes are guarantees."

Madeline was serious. "Paul. . ."

Paul pulled her up to face him. "What's up? What's holding you back?" At that moment a knock at the door of The Tower startled the lovers. Madeline asked Paul. "Who's that? What is it?" "I don't know Madeline, here put this on." Paul told the beautiful woman, and threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Again the knock and Paul yelled "Coming!"

Paul looked into the screen to spy George and Adrian standing on the other side of the door. He looked up at Madeline putting on his shirt and he opened the door. George worked his chin with his fingers.

Madeline called from the sleeping loft. "Who is it?"

Paul nervous, realizing George and Adrian recognized Madeline's voice, mumbled. "It's. . . uh. . .not a good time."

Adrian shook her head letting herself in while George said. "Since when do you decide when it's a good time?"

Madeline walked barefoot down from the loft and found Adrian watching her from the couch. "Madeline."

"Hello Adrian, George – we were not expecting you." She said.

"Obviously." Adrian answered sarcastically.

Madeline gratefully had donned a pair of jeans along with Paul's shirt. The two couples sat uncomfortably in the small living area. The silence was deafening and the tension could be cut with an electric power saw.

Adrian cleared her throat and sat forward on the couch facing Paul. "Center has sent us. Mr. Jones is considering you to take over George's position at Center."

Madeline smiled and asked. ". . .And George?"

"He is moving up to Oversight." Adrian answered hardly able to look at the brunette.

Operations asked. "When do they expect to make a formal decision?

"They didn't say." Adrian answered.

George smiled. "Soon. I'm sure they're waiting to see how we all handle the missing Directory issue. He did reiterate the importance of handling this quickly and efficiently. Who are you sending to do this?"

"We are sending Michael." Paul answered.

"Excellent choice, I am sure it was not Madeline's choice. . ." Adrian said.

Paul defended Madeline against Adrian's obvious disdain. "Madeline did suggest Michael as the most suited candidate, she even profiled the deep blood cover."

George grinned knowing full well that this was probably a lie. "Stop overloading him with work he needs to 'valentine' this woman. . . we better marry him off to this Nikita. I don't need to tell you how important the Directory is."

"Yes... if all goes as I expect..." Paul said while George finished the sentence.

"Then, congratulations will be in order." George stood shaking Ops hand and adding. "Paul, failure is not an option. We can all get what we've wanted, I can go to Oversight were I belong, you can take over Center and Michael can run the Sections."

Operations who was kissing Adrian goodbye as he ushered them to the door answered. "Uh huh. We'll get it done George." And they left.

When the couple exited Madeline smiled embracing Paul as he ordered, not happy with the consequences of Madeline's machinations. "Get me Michael."

////

Michael was no longer in house; he had been called to a mission that went hot while the Level 5 Op rested in his close quarters. Paul, knowing that nothing was as important as the Nikita mission left The Tower after thoroughly telling Madeline off. He had advised the brunette that he was not going to allow her to screw up his ascension to George's post.

Paul was advised when the Team was returning, so he went to Van Access to greet Michael. The black clad operatives walked through the door with a hostage they had captured during the mission. Michael stood behind the 5 men.

Operations asked a serious Michael. "How did it go?"

Michael answered as always. "There were four. We let one live."

Paul who had not read the profile inquired. "Was that on the profile?"

Michael responded. "No. We found an assembly tracker on him. He may be on a higher tier than we expected."

Operations who was now understanding the mission better asked. "And the relay site?"

Michael, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket said, "We collected everything relevant, then took it out."

Operations smiled and said. "Good. Work this guy up - let's find out who he is, but first I need to see you."

"I can take it." Madeline added from behind the men.

"Fine. Let's go Michael." Paul said never turning around.