Nikita Samuelle couldn't believe her son Adam was already 2 years old; she was smiling while baking the child's Pokemon cake. This was still the Deep Blood Cover were she pretended to be Elena Vacek Michael's mission wife. She had never married Michael, couldn't use their real names they were ghosts, but their basic instincts rendered them husband and wife. The child for all practical purposes was her son; although not his natural mother Nikita was the only mother Adam had ever known.

Michael just outside the kitchen window played catch with Adam. Nikita baked and danced singing a bit out of tune with Billy Joel. - Brenda and Eddie were the popular steadies and the king and the queen of the prom…-. The birthday party would start soon.

Michael's team, and their wives’ and/or significant others, all S1 operatives, would pretend for those watching to be a tight knit family with close friends and associates. Walter as the Patriarch and his wife Belinda as Michael's stepmother rounded up the perfect family.

But the team would enjoy this reprieve. Two days before they had been in the Middle East risking life and limb detonating bombs, ending a bloody coup d'état in the Region; fires burning out of control and the rebels’ fatalities were in all their minds. Thanks to Michael’s leadership they had achieved containment with no casualties and returned safe and sound to their son. Now as Carla Birkoff’s fiancé had said “It’s time to PARTEE”.

Nikita wore a powder blue knit Polo dress to the middle of her thighs; white Keds sans socks and blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. Michael wore blue jeans that had been painted on, white tee shirt with a Prada logo and Nike shoes. Adam wore the exact same attire than his father; Nikita liked to dress father and son alike, Michael obliged.

The phone on the counter rang; the blonde put the cake pans in the pre-heated oven, with her hands full of cake batter picked up the phone cradling it with her shoulder, no hands. "Hello?" She answered, her smile fading as she heard the voice on the other end. Nikita turned and tapped the glass pane and caught Michael's attention.

"Adam, stay right here were I can see you, Maman needs me for a second." He told his son walking passed the German Sheppard Helmut; Michael commanded him to stay with the child and rushed inside without waiting for an answer from the boy.

He walked into the kitchen, as Nikita was saying “No you tell my father that if he wants to speak to me or my son he can call himself and not send, with all due respect, some lacky to do his bidding. Oh and tell him since he didn't even bother to put his return address on the envelope, his very generous gift once more was donated to the Goodwill."

Michael grabbed her by her waist - he needed her comfort and she needed his support. Pushing the button on the phone to activate the speaker he brought her hips flush to his body. The phones were not tapped so Vacek couldn't detect the operation and there was no other surveillance for the same reason. For this Michael was grateful – nookie!

Every year since Adam's birth the terrorist would call the house on his birthday, like clockwork his very generous gift, U.S. $10,000, would arrive a week earlier. Untraceable bills, untraceable calls, untraceable Mr. Vacek. But this little communication and his continuous terrorist activities allowed Michael and Nikita to prolong their Blood Cover and for this Michael was thankful – lust!

Mr. Vacek's lackey laughed out loud, "No offense taken my dear, I will tell your father you continue to be as spirited and feisty as ever...and Michael I will tell him you were listening through the speaker phone again, protecting your own. Give Adam our love." With this the phone went dead.

Michael disengaged from his mission wife wearing his patented blank stare and becoming Section's Operation. He alerted S1 through his cell phone keeping his eyes on Nikita who had gone outside to be with their son. He could hear the boy laughing as Helmut licked the batter off his mom's hands.

"Maman, le chien..." shrieks out of the boy when the dog licked his face. Michael stepped outside and sat next to Nikita handing her a paper towel for her hands and kissing her cheek for comfort.

"Thanks" she said putting her head on his shoulder; he draped his arm around her waist, a sad smile on his lips. He said, “We’ll be fine, trust me.”

She turned, kissed him on the lips “Always” and ran after the child toddling towards the sprinklers, Helmut padding behind him. “Adam, arête.” Michael yelled, if you could call his commanding tone yelling. The boy, like most children, listened more to his father than to his mother.

At this point he heard the ‘guests’ beginning to arrive and went to open the front door. The blonde carrying the baby and kissing his tummy as she went walked into the kitchen to check on the cake. As customary their fears were put in the back burner – love!

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

Michael was running Sections 1 through 9, Nikita his 2nd in Command. This had been Adrian’s wish, and she usually got what she wanted. She was telling the blonde about her husband George ascend to the position of Mr. Jones, and how it still bothered him that his wife was above him in the Organization. The two women laughed Nikita said “Men.” The Power Couple, as everyone called the Jones’ left the Samuelle’s house content with the knowledge the ‘kids’ were doing well, they truly cared for the Samuelles.

Paul Wolfe had married Madelyn and they were running Military Strategy for Center, only allowed non-operative oriented activities. In a way their house of cards had come tumbling down, they no longer ran Section 1. And they were shit out of luck as far as their treacherous actions were concerned; one more overwhelmingly stupid move and they would be put in abeyance for sure.

Michael and Nikita checked on their son Adam before retiring for the night. Visits like the ones they had tonight always left them drained to say the least “Michael, I’ve been in missions easier than this night.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. Michael then kissed Adam’s little 4-year-old cheeks and covered him properly, while Nikita was picking up his ‘Popi Bear’ and getting Helmut off the child’s bed.

The couple left the boys’ night-light on and the door ajar in case he woke in the middle of the night. They crossed the broad hallway and entered their bedroom holding hands; they always held hands when in the house or when not being monitored. So far this chapter of the Mission had lasted 4 years and no contact with Vacek, except for the calls on Adam’s birthday.

Nikita was wearing a Dolce and Gavanna navy blue silk short dress, high front gathered at the neck with a pearl button. Bareback to just under her waist, straight skirt to her knees and thigh high stockings’ lacey tops peeking through the slit in the back of the skirt. Navy and white Kate Spade mules, little pearl ball earrings, long pearl necklace, very little make up, blonde hair hanging loose. Michael had a painful hard-on all night.

Michael wore brown Gautier dress slacks and matching jacket, beige Egyptian cotton shirt with an open collar and brown Gucci loafers, no socks. The Jones’ loved to dress for dinner and the Samuelle’s had complied, and as always they looked exquisite. Nikita got off on this too; she loved to see Michael wearing anything or nothing at all.

Michael pulled Nikita into their room by the hand he was holding. She was smiling in anticipation of what was to come. He had been gone for 2 days to a conference at Oversight had arrived this afternoon and they had not spent a minute on their own. Rarely were they apart, didn’t like it, but now at last the beautiful couple was alone again.

Nikita walked towards her husband who was holding her at arms’ length, with her loose hand unbuttoning the neck of her dress. Now she stood in front of Michael wearing nothing but her thigh high ‘nude’ stockings and a matching thong, no bra. His loose hand instinctively went to turn on the light, she protested, “Don’t”. She liked it shadowy.

And with just the light from the fireplace, Michael pulled the wife of his heart into a tight embrace. He kissed her mouth first by tracing the outline of her lips with his luscious tongue, then by delving into her mouth and stopping if she moved her own tongue. Holding both her hands in one of his, the other hand traced the contour of each breast.

Michael lowered his mouth to her perky tips and swirled the areola with his tongue, first the left, then the right. Repeating the process with his teeth to the nipples he was making her wild. And let us not forget about him, his arousal trapped in the form fitting dress pants aching to be released, but he was not ready, this was just too pleasurable.

“You’ve been sun bathing in the nude again?” He asked her, continuing his systematic mapping of her body with his tongue. “Neighbors must be going wild.”

The only response by the blonde was a groan and two moans. “If they were hostiles you would have already rendered them worthless, your body is more powerful than an romp in the White Room with the Twins.” He was holding this soliloquy to distract his arousal and continue his assault on her very heightened senses engaging the blonde in recreation.

“While I was gone I laid in my bed at Oversight and thought of you, remembered your every dimple and beauty mark. I need to edge your body in my psychic so that I can survive your absences.” Kisses to the solar plexus, to the mandible, to the frontal lobe, and to every inch, he observed, ”It is my duty to re-map my world in your image Kita.”

For all the effort Nikita was putting into answering him, she could only muster an unintelligible plea “Mikplesicn”. He smiled evilly, was hard as a rock and the pleasure he was getting from having her like this irrational and needy drove him wild. ‘It is almost better than getting a blowjob’, he thought and said – eyebrows raised “Of course I did pleasure myself.”

He left her breast and moved his wife to lie on her left side and again painfully slow and deliberately he commenced to lick, bite and kiss the right contour of her body. He was speaking in French to her, reciting an old poem the blonde loved. The vibration from his lips sending chards of ecstasy through them both. Nikita loved to be pampered like this.

Michael was the sovereign of pampering; he literally got off by being so devoted.

He completed his tour on her red painted toes and sucked them into his full mouth, while his hands touched every inch of her body; the soft ministrations making the wonting blonde cum. He turned her on her right side now pausing just briefly to lick the cum of her clit. Then, without missing a beat, continued his attention to the derelict side of the awe-inspiring body. Michael thought he would explode, Nikita did - again.

Now laying her back to the bed Michael crawled between her legs. He pushed the thighs flush against the mattress, knees parted to allow him access to her flowing juices. His hands pinching, pulling, caressing her lovely breasts and his lips floating over her apex as his tongue lapped at her with skill, finesse, elegance and grace. She was delirious with passion, hadn’t form a coherent thought in the duration. He was in heaven harp and all, so he strummed the summit of her legs and the miraculous folds that brought them such joy.

He looked up at her, her eyes a violent blue watching him do her. He smiled and lowered his mouth to her and sucked, tongue-thrusting, lips affixed as though they were covered with Crazy Glue. He had to abandon her breasts to hold her knees apart, so they wouldn’t close again confining his head in a vice grip. He was determined, focus, Michael.

He separated “I am in command Kita”. She assented with her head moving quickly, her eyes begging, suppliant not to stop again. And then she took her hands, which had taken to softly playing with his hair and held his head to her speaking for the first time “Damn it, don’t you stop again.” Still sucking her he smiled, “OK, you’ve got command.”

She bunched his curls into her fists and pulled him off, two could play at this game. He smiled as she got up and walked to the bathroom for some throat numbing spray, he called out to her “Kita you’re taking over the White Room tomorrow, what techniques of torture are these?” His hands pumping his very hard erect shaft, couldn’t help himself he was aroused beyond comprehension needed contact with his dick or he would cum.

Nikita walked purposely back into the room, after spraying her throat and holding his legs with her knees, tied his hands to the headboard with the silk scarves she brought from the dresser. She had impelled herself onto his member while tying his hands and was wildly riding him. Michael was making an over humanly effort not to shoot his load.

“Like this?” She asked him as she finished with the hands, turned her body, while he was inside her and proceeded to tie the feet to the other bedposts.

“Sacre Coeur” Michael implored, didn’t know how much longer he could hold off. She dismounted him and started the most exquisite blowjob he had ever felt. She was swallowing him whole, the spray permitting his shaft to go down her throat without the gagging reflex kicking in.

Michael was pulling at the restrains on his hands, needed to hold her to him. “More” he was screaming, “Let me hold you, please” he was begging. “Can’t hold on anymore,” he was warning. She was ordering “Cum in my mouth, I want to swallow, cum in my mouth now.” And after seconds that felt like hours, Michael screamed out his pet name for her “Kita” and he came, she continued to milk the cum from his dick, it flowed smoothly down her throat, and she swallowed with delight. Michael’s mouth formed a perfect silent ‘O’.

One last suck and he sprang back to life, her mouth abandoned him and she again rode her wild steed. She lay away from him, touching only where their bodies met. And they started moving in circles making sure every inch of his dick came in direct contact with every wall, every nook and cranny of her vagina. Her ‘G’ spot being pummeled by the tip of his meat. “God Michael, there…mmm…that’s it”.

Michael laughed, sounding out of breathe and a little giddy she said, “I can see the head lines, antiterrorist couple found dead, but still aroused.” He ripped the wood from the headboard and grabbed her tits with such force he feared he’d hurt her. Then moved his hands, still wearing the scarves and wood, to her waist and brought her up, “Sit up”.

Nikita laughed, “You owe me a new bed.” Pulled her down and crushed his mouth with hers saying, “I am afraid for what you’ve uncorked my dear.”

She replied “A genie?”

He flipped them over, grinding into her over and over, while she came again and again. He would cum, wait a second and start again. He bit her breasts, her arms, her chin and she just obeyed. Sex between them was always intense, fulfilling, exiting, memorable; this time it was devastating and extreme. There was no other, they were one.

And then he uttered words he’d never said before “I love you Kita”. She stopped moving, opened her eyes to look into the most incredible pair of emeralds, he continued. “I have loved you from the first moment… hell before that, always. I am afraid for what could happen, for what could be. I am afraid of loosing you, I am afraid of being without you, I am afraid of the intensity of this all consuming love and that is why I haven’t told you before.”

All this was being said while he moved hard, deep, long into her insides. She, so Nikita like, grabbed his face in both her hands and said, “I know - around you I feel loved, you show me Michael, you complete me.” And with this they both came hard. Michael laid his body on hers and kissed with total devotion her kiss-swollen lips.

They became startled when they heard Adam cry, “Maman, Poppa, I am thirsty.”

Michael disengaged from his wife and quickly just before the bedroom door opened, donned a robe while Nikita covered her hickey-covered body with a sheet.

“ Ici mon fille.” He told the boy who then asked, “What are those things on your arms pappa?”

Michael turned to Nikita who now had covered her laughing head with the sheet. Michael stuttered “Those are…” She interrupted, “Weights to strengthen Pappa’s wrists, Adam what have I told you about this, you have water in your room.” Her speech wracked with laughter.

“I’ll take him ma cher don’t fret.” He said giving her an amused look for the state of her hair and her feet, which peaked out from under the sheet. “Mamma looks sick, is she alright”? Concern from Adam at his mother “state”. “She’ll be fine,” the gorgeous super spy told his inquiring son as he ushered him out of their room to his bed.

When he returned his wife was asleep; she had re made the bed. Michael removed the “weights” from his wrist. While sitting in the ottoman at the foot of the bed he watched the sleeping beauty before him.

He smoothed the covers over her body and said, “I love you Kita.”

In her sleep she smiled, the angelic lift of her lips that caused Michael’s obsession for his beautiful ‘Mission’ wife.

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

Six years before when they’d baptized Adam, Nikita legally changed her mission name from Elena to Nikita. This done in an effort to prevent mistakes and to grandiosely show Vacek – who now monitored daily – his ‘daughter’ wanted little or nothing to do with him. She told the court in her public pleadings that changing her first name Elena – her paternal grandmother’s name, after having changed her last name through marriage, severed all ties to her father. She wanted the man who had abandoned her as a newborn out of her life for good.

The Section attorneys had gone as far as to detail in the documents that the daughter had tried but failed to communicate with the father. The extemporaneous language in the Public Record document actually named the terrorist. This tactic in great part to goad him into contacting her; Vacek surprisingly had been proud and said, “That’s my girl.”

Now six years after the start of the Mission the blonde lay on her stomach sprawled across her bed, wearing tap silk pants and cropped loose top both a sky blue that matched her sleep filled eyes. She raised her head hearing hushed voices coming from the bathroom and through a curtain of blonde hair could see the men in her life. She smiled and sat up, listening intently.

“En un lugar de La Mancha, de cuyo nombre no puedo acordarme…” Six-year-old Adam read to his father, sitting on the edge of the tub while his handsome father shaved over the sink and gazed into the mirror. “Your Spanish is almost perfect Adam, you will love Don Quijote, when I was a child your age I wanted to be him, ese es my libro.”

“Pappa was mamman your Sancho Panza?” they laughed at the picture this conjured in both their heads. “No, she is my Dulcinea.”

Nikita from her spot on the bed smiled, she loved this sight, the man who was king of her heart sharing with his most precious gift to her, his son. She stood up and started making the bed with Helmut underfoot licking her bare feet.

“Stop” she directed the dog who whimpered and scurried to the bathroom, opening the door with his paw.

“Good Morning sleepyhead” Michael said seeing his wife sleep disheveled form. Adam ran to his mother screaming, “Look mom daddy gave me his copy of Don Quijote de La Mancha.” She kissed the child.

“We should go to Spain soon Michael, show Adam where the windmills are.” The blonde told the handsome spy as she approached the bathroom door, carrying the book Adam handed her when he kissed her. The boy had run out of the room Helmut following close behind.

He smiled “You are the windmills of my mind, come here.” And grabbed her waist with one hand, shoving her in front of him, against the sink. She took the razor and carefully began shaving him.

“Stop that Michael, I’ll cut you,” she said as he was cupping her breast over her neckline and grinding his already arouse member against her front. “Then stop and let’s fuck.” He said. She smiled Michael was an action figure, he closed the door with his foot, she locked it while her lips were being assaulted, the razor forgotten in the sink.

Michael, picked her up, sat her on the marble sink and proceeded to enter her through the wide pant leg of her tap pants. He had taken his dick out of his black satin boxers and had ripped her top sucking madly on her perky breasts, shaving cream now on her alabaster skin. Her hands were buried in his hair, her feet digging into his ass to hold him closer, her hair flowing freely, their bodies so deep into each other they were one again.

It was passionate, hot, but awfully quick. As they came down from the climax they heard the door handle being tried. “Pappa can we go to Dennys for a Grand Slam Breakfast?” Adam spoke through the door.

Both Michael and Nikita laughed as they opened the door, “Were did you hear this, is there a Denny’s in Paris?” Michael asked turning to his wife, who was holding her shredded top with her hands.

“Yes, there is one on the Rue de la Seine.” Nikita added.

“Then we go, get dressed.” He told his son and his wife, who was now closing the bathroom door again and leaving Michael to done his Polo blue jeans – after loosing his briefs – and a green body hugging long sleeved cashmere sweater by Vittadinni. He wore short camel colored boots by Ferragamo, and hooked his CK glasses on his neckline.

Michael went to the room to help his son ready. Nikita yelled through the door, “It is cool out Michael, make sure he dresses warm” Michael smiled his ascent.

Nikita put on brown leather skintight pants with a tan sweater, both by Mishka for Palm Beach Leather. She wore flat leather half boots by Kate Spade, with little brown and tan lines. Her signature hat by Hats In The Belfry was simple, knit tan leather. No jewelry but the wedding band.

He smiled when he walked in to splash cologne “Like yours daddy” on Adam. She was applying Joy de Jean Pattou to the inside of her wrists and he rushed to her side, grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck countless times “You have not dabbed here yet?”

“Don’t start Michael, we’ll never get to have that Grand Slam Breakfast we are so looking forward to.” She wiggled her ass against his straining crotch and moved out of his reach, yelling, “Adam, get the helmet, we are taking the bikes.”

The child yelled, “Whoopee, I ride with daddy.”

And Nikita pouted, “Why doesn’t he ever want to ride with me?”

“I am king of the road, don’t you know,” Michael whispered pinching her ass.

“For this week.” She retorted pinching his, “Mmm love this feel…”

***

The operatives immediately realized they were being observed, a lot more closely than usual. There were two cars, instead of the usual one tracking their move. Michael after watching them from the restaurant’s window surreptitiously decided to take the long, desolate way home.

“Daddy, are we going to the park?” Adam asked when they stopped the bikes inside a path in the park.”

Michael got off the hog, handed Adam to Nikita, walked purposely towards the two cars and wrapped his knuckles on the first car’s window. “Pardon, are you following us?”

The driver lowered the window and stated “Mr. Vacek wants you three safe.”

By this time, the driver of the other car had reached Michael and held him by the arms. “Please Mr. Samuelle, come with us.”

Michael turned to look at Nikita and Adam, now being held by two other men. He acquiesced, Nikita and he could have taken all 4 men but they were now in the middle of a Mission, his mission mask in place.

“All right.” He answered in his usual economy of words.

The bikes were ridden by two of the men and left in front of Nikita and Michael’s garage. This action alerted S1 the couple had been taken. They were hooded and very comfortably taken to an airport an hour outside of the park, then transported by plane to a landing strip 2 hours away were they took a seaplane for another hour.

It was about three o’clock when they arrived at a magnificent island off the coast of somewhere they couldn’t tell where. The boy was holding on to his father for dear life, not afraid but concerned for his mother’s crying – all a ploy by the blonde. Michael had been comforting both of them even though they couldn’t see each other’s faces, by reciting in Spanish Don Quijote de La Mancha, which he knew by hard, in hushed tones.

When they were eventually un-hooded Michael checked on both his wife and child and confronted the guards, standing within inches of his face. “What is the meaning of this?”

The men didn’t answer, but the door to the house opened and a man, who looked just like Adam stepped out. “Hello Elena, Adam, and …you must be Michael.”

“I told you, he exudes power.” They recognized the voice of the man to Vacek’s left.

Michael gallantly pushed Nikita behind him, who was doing an incredible job of looking upset while studying and memorizing her surroundings. He held on to Adam who was the only one really in shock.

“Come, come, Michael, I just needed to meet my daughter and she was having none of me - she changed her name for God’s sake.”

Vacek said this while extending his hands to the couple and patting Adam’s head, which was buried on his father’s shoulder.

“Can you blame her?” Michael asked moving away from Nikita and giving her access to the terrorist and the start of her part of the undertaking.

Michael shook Vacek’s hand and handed him the child, his skin crawling at the thought of the situation and his mission mask still firmly in place. He looked proudly at Nikita who had crossed her arms and taken a very hostile stance.

She was not only acting her part, but was ready to defend her man and child; this was the planet’s worst terrorist after all. “So you are my father? Why now?” She asked.

“I think we should come inside and have the child entertained while we speak, don’t you?” Vacek said and turned walking into the mansion, sparce but luxurious.

Both operatives noticed a photograph of them inside their Paris home taken through a long distance high-density lense. There was Michael, Nikita and Adam sitting in their family room, displayed in a superb sterling silver frame. There were also other pictures of the three of them taken at different times during the last 6 years, nothing before then.

The house was obviously not a place were Vacek stayed for long; it looked and was transient as later corroborated by Vacek himself. It was spacious and grand. Marble, stained glass, deep woods and expensive antiques.

“What is the mystery, who are you?” Nikita asked waiting to be surprised by an answer she knew too well.

“I can’t discuss this…I am sorry, I am dying, Pancreatic Cancer, no cure, no amount of money can stop this deterioration. I have a U.S. $17 Billion fortune that will go to Adam upon my demise, since you have made it well known that you want nothing to do with me. But I want more than getting close to my family; I want Michael here to take over, learn to run my empire when I am gone. Doctors’ say I have about a year, I would love more than anything to spend my last days with my daughter, grandson and…son, making amends.”

Nikita now ran to her ‘father’s’ side. “The money you can keep, the empire you can give to your “lackeys”, but father please the time let it be ours, let me know you, know me, my son, my husband. Talk to me about my mother, about your mother, about your life…” She was crying and so was Vacek, but he interrupted.

“As much as I would want this Elena, I can’t I am a wanted man, a terrorist…”

Nikita gasped, and shouted; “You want Michael to go into this?” she was ‘horrified.’

Michael came to her side, “Let him speak Nikita” ah the voice of reason.

“You must stay here with me,” the terrorist told the Samuelles, both Nikita and Michael froze.

“Mr. Vacek, you cannot expect us to drop everything and never return home, we will be missed, my family will think we were kidnapped, killed. God knows this is crazy, irrational.” Michael stated, calmly on the outside, but in the inside he was seething and dying. He knew that S1 would find them, a battle would ensue and Adam would be in peril.

“Call me Sallah,” the terrorist told his in-law “I can’t let you go back, they’ll find me.”

Michael again, Nikita sobbing “Sallah they hooded us to bring us here, we don’t know were we are. You cannot do this to your daughter, your grandson, or to me. Let’s think this through before we make a mistake, before unintentionally we cause you harm.”

Mr. Vacek wasn’t looking at them; he was looking out to the water and seeing Adam playing Soccer with two of his guards. Michael added, “Sallah let’s relax, get to know each other, talk and we’ll be able to think clearly. I cannot believe someone as successful as you seem to be, can react instead of acting, please, we don’t want to hurt you.”

Nikita moved forward, grabbed her ‘father’ by the elbow and made him look at her. “Sal…Father you have told me that you are dying, have no hope; think how I must feel, just recover my father and loose him, all in one afternoon. Let’s take this moment to understand each other, before making any commitments or rash judgments. Please.”

“OK”, Vacek rang a bell and a man server walked in and bowed, “There will be 3 more for dinner.”

Dinner went smoothly, Adam showed up his fine upbringing; Michael and Nikita showed Vacek how they were happily in love. Vacek demonstrated what an austere strange life and unstable existence he led and finally how he had accepted the impending end.

Vacek got called to an emergency phone meeting and invited Michael to join on the 3-way call. He wanted his son-in-law to see what a gentlemanly business terrorism was now a days. Michael agreed mostly to be assured they were not being somehow trapped.

Vacek told Michael he was to observe and the operative did from inside the belly of the dragon. Nikita paced the floor of the bedroom; Adam was playing Nintendo oblivious to what was going on. “Adam is time to get ready for bed,” the blonde said.

Mr. Vacek’s right hand man knocked and was allowed in. “Elena, I wanted to know if you are comfortable, need anything?” He said.

“Yes, I want to go to my own house, this is ludicrous.” She said, half meaning it.

“Between you and I, we already need to move our operations, you will be here just a short time, I promise. Your father is very ill, he needs you Elena.” He told her sadly.

“You care about him don’t you”? She asked the tall man.

“Yes he is like a brother...”

At this point Michael walked into the two-room suite, and seriously told his son, “Adam, time to get ready for bed.” The boy turned off the game immediately obeying and going with his mother to the bedroom.

“Michael” the man told the handsome spy “I was telling Elena we will be moving soon, you can go then.”

“What is your name, you have not said.” Michael asked putting an arm around his wife’s shoulder; she had just walked back into the room.

“Jepsi Snoor, glad to meet you.” The men shook hands. “Sallah is out of his mind with the Cancer diagnosis, he wants all his eggs in one basket, you understand.”

Michael and Nikita nodded and looked down. The man felt uncomfortable with the silence and bidded them both good night. Nikita asked to say good night to Vacek and he appeared at the door as if by magic.

He kissed his grandson who was still playing in the bed and kissed his ‘daughter’. Michael shook hands with the man and putting an arm on his shoulder told him they would work through this. Both operatives had to remind themselves all the deaths the man had to his credit - for money his only quest.

The Samuelles went to bed in the other bedroom of the suite. Little was exchanged being quite aware they were probably being monitored. They did show their love and closeness by spooning in bed, kissing passionately and leaving it at that. The trivial behavior due to really loving each other and needing to constantly keep in contact.

The couple had trouble sleeping; the culmination of the mission was at hand. What would come from this? They tossed and turned and glanced at each other, Michael was formulating a scenario, and the blonde following suit.

At 3:00 am a guard knocked on the door, “Mr. Snoor needs to see you.” The man told a fully alert Michael, wearing blue scrubs he and Nikita had been given to sleep in. He turned to close the door and the guard said, “Your wife also”. A young woman who had played with Adam earlier passed the couple on her way to guard the child.

They walked across the house to a wing that held four other suites of rooms. The operatives arrived at a foyer where Mr. Snoor stood with a team of three doctors talking in hushed tones. “Oh Elena, Michael these are Drs. Harrison, Gwen and Smythe.”

The operatives shook each doctor’s hands and Nikita spoke up. “This is obviously about my father, what is going on.” Michael held tightly his wife’s hand, mission masks firmly on.

“Your father is in a coma and has little time left. We understand we need to relocate our security is in play, however, if we move him we may loose him immediately, the call has to be yours.” The elder of the three physicians said, the somber situation evidently overwhelming the men.

Michael thought and was sure the blonde agreed this organization would dissipate as soon as their leader was gone. Michael needed to take control in order to eradicate it completely after Vacek’s passing. All the antiterrorists needed were splinter groups acting on their own, even if for short periods of time, due to the lack of funds.

“Well” Nikita said “I need to discuss this with Michael. We need a few minutes of solitude, no surveillance. I feel besieged with all these people watching me, kowtowing to me. I can’t think. You’ve got to remember I have received more information in one day that all of you have in a lifetime, and now you want me to make a life and death decision like that.” The blonde finished snapping her fingers.

Michael was proud of his 2nd in command, this was Nikita thinking on her feet.

“Perhaps if we took a walk around the grounds, just the two of us, we could talk this through, come to a decision. What do you think Jepsi?” Operations retorted.

“We understand your predicament Elena, please understand ours. We are a ‘military’ organization (Nikita remembered Paul); we have strict directives for every part of our lives. This is why we are so successful at what we do and whether you agree with it or not you must concur we have survived a long time.” Jepsi said.

“I don’t concur with anything, because I don’t have any idea what a terrorist does and if you are successful or not. I cannot say if I am of the same mind with your cause or not, because I don’t even know what it is. Please understand we are art dealers for Christ sake. What do we know of this…what do we know of Cancer…I never knew him, he never wanted to know me?”

Nikita ranted on and on, guaranteeing to those present she was who she said she was. An artist who had been abandoned at birth by her father, who now showed up in her life and turned it upside down. Michael cleared his throat while kissing his wife on her head.

“Let us speak in private please, will be back in 20 minutes max.” And with this the couple went down the spiral staircase and out the door, Mr. Snoor giving instructions to a guard to keep a close eye on them without interfering. Michael and Nikita walked around the perimeter making sure no one heard their discussion on the turn the Mission had taken in less than 24 hours.

All of a sudden the sky lit up and Michael and Nikita realized Section had found them.

They ran to where Adam was now being held by the female guard, she passed the child on to them and she went to “fight” – Nikita and Michael went with Adam to a safe corner.

Was it good they had attacked knowing what they now knew? Perhaps not, but things could not be undone once they had started, so Michael started developing a new sym to repair any damage being done. He would furtively advise Walter to spare Mr. Vacek and bring the Samuelles into S1.

A guard rushed out yelling to come inside, “You are in grave peril, please follow me” interrupted the Samuelles. Michael and Nikita could hear the shooting coming from around the beautiful grounds. The black clad invaders were surrounding the space; fires, explosions, air attack as well as by sea.

A war plain and simply Michael and Nikita knew who it was – Section had come to their rescue. They watched how quickly Section took over, everyone, except for Mr. Vacek was either taken or killed. Section’s casualties were less than .1 %, all in all extremely successful. The Samuelles were taken like the rest of the prisoners to save the primary mission.

Nikita ordered the Section doctors to make Mr. Vacek comfortable, he would be interrogated later if and when he came out of the coma. There were plenty of Vacek’s operatives to interrogate in the meantime. Intel was to be gathered and the Samuelle’s were marched into a white room to save face.

Nikita and Michael had now taken Adam home. The child had some sort of emotional barrier up which the couple would have to deal with, but now it was their time.

Nikita decided to lie in the bed and dictate her debrief. She was on her side of the king size bed covered in silver satin sheets.

She moved the feather cover off her body and took off her top, just keeping the silver silk panties coincidentally matching the sheets. Her PDA sat on the pillow as she lay on her stomach waiting for Michael to join her. He came to bed wearing nothing.

That was Michael; he was extremely comfortable with himself and with his wife. He approached the bed, reached for the PDA, and took it from his wife clucking his tongue at her. “It is fucky time babe.” He imitated her Aussie accent and grinned. Reaching over he turned off her lamp and allowed his very extended member to rub against her bare ass.

“Mmmm” she said, “Is this the end of the Mission, could this be our last night together?”

“Don’t Kita…shh, not now. Do you think if I for a moment believed this would be our last night together I would stay…hell no one will separate us, I rather die than live without you.” He said stroking her bare back and kissing her soft shoulder.

“But Michael…” she continued

“Sshh Kita, let me love you before real life rears its ugly head, let me enjoy my wife, our home, the knowledge my child is sleeping soundly in the room next door.” He continue his devoted assault to her senses and smiled when the magnificent woman who had shared his bed for so long acquiesced…

Over and over they made love and slept until the child came bounding into the room, Helmut in tow and both jumped on his parents bed.

“Wow” Nikita said “Adam ok, Helmut off.” Her laughter covering her terrible depression.

“Mamman, is it true dreams come true sometimes?” Adam asked lying on his father’s stomach, but holding his mother’s chin.

“Sometimes - what dreams Adam? Did you have a dream you want to tell us about?” Nikita said, still resting her head on her husbands shoulder.

“I dreamed last night that Grandpa was here, there were fireworks, we played Nintendo, went for a long plane and boat ride and our heads were covered with hoods.” Adam said.

Michael quickly, thinking on his feet retorted, “See Kita, I have told you he has been watching too much television…masks huh?

“No daddy it was a neat dream…you were so brave, defended Mamman and me…Grandpa had a big house, with an ocean and men who played soccer with me and called me Little Prince.”

“You know Adam, perhaps you should tell Uncle Seymour this story, he could make it into a neat computer game.” Nikita added, nervous as hell.

“Good idea” picking up the phone “What is Birki’s number?” The enthusiastic and relieved little boy said.

Michael let out a long sigh, “Here let me.”

Less than an hour later the young Com Expert, along with a Section Psychiatrist were sitting in Michael and Nikita’s kitchen talking with Adam about his dream and the idea for the game. The Psychiatrist was able to implant the idea in Adam’s head, removing all doubt, that this indeed had been a dream.

“Things are back to normal.” Michael had told Nikita a week after the capture of Vacek, after coming back from a Center meeting were they had discussed the next step in this convoluted Mission.

The Vacek money needed to be distributed, allocated properly. They were going to try a new approach and perhaps allow Vacek’s demise to do more good than harm. Michael and Nikita were in for the long haul.

“Back to normal?” The blonde had asked standing at the kitchen window watching her son trying to teach Helmut how to play basketball.

“As normal as we can be.” Michael joined his wife on the window and moved with her to the back porch, there he kissed her passionately and broke apart smiling broadly and calling out to his son. “Arête Adam, let’s teach Helmut how to be the Michael Jordan of the canine world.”

With this he smacked Nikita on the ass, an ass he loved so well and whispered, “Later we try for super stardom in bed.” He kissed her mouth once more and handing her his jacket ran out to play with his son. Nikita let out a long breath and smiled “I love you” she yelled, to which statement both her men answered, “I love you too.” The End