Nikita awoke to find Michael’s arms around her. They were nestled like spoons, and his right leg was insinuated between her two thighs. She luxuriated in the pure contentment of the moment. Since undergoing intensive therapy with an outside psychiatrist, Michael had spent more and more of his nights at her apartment. In fact, he had spent nearly every night with her in the past month, with the only exceptions being when he or she were on missions. Michael was still in the process of coming to terms with his fears of loss, but he seldom had the nightmares that had been the hallmark of his life alone.

Operations and Madeline continued to monitor their performances on missions, and Nikita knew that her and Michael’s survival, both as a couple and as Section One operatives, depended on the flawless execution of each mission profile to which they were assigned. Nikita considered awakening Michael so that they could take an early morning run, but she knew they would never make it out the door in their running gear, at least they hadn’t yet.

Nikita’s comfortable morning lassitude was interrupted by the jarring ring of a cell phone. Nikita jumped, and Michael was awake instantly. They simultaneously reached for their cell phones, which were now both ringing. A terse “Come in” was what they both heard.

There was no explanation, and no explanation was needed. The command was enough.

Nikita and Michael, galvanized by Operations’s and Madeline’s calls, raced to the shower and to the coffee maker, respectively. It was a sign of their growing awareness of the other’s habits. Michael needed coffee first. Nikita needed the shower first. Michael also heated water for Nikita’s tea, as he started the first of his many cups of coffee the propelled him through his busy days.

Nikita rushed her ablutions and joined Michael in her kitchen. They both knew there was no time today for more than a brief hug and passionate kiss.

“The water should be boiling in a minute, Nikita,” Michael said as he released her from his embrace.”

"Thank you," Nikita breathed a sigh of relief as she removed the towel from her hair, as she busied herself with preparing her morning cup of tea. She sighed a little, as she watched Michael race to the shower. This call-in had an ominous feel to it, and her intuitive senses were resounding with dread.

Forty-five minutes later, scrubbed and caffeined up for the day, Michael and Nikita entered the briefing area. Operations was there, pacing as usual. Madeline was there, as well, giving no indication of the circumstances for the call-in.

Operations was clearly agitated, and the reason was apparent as soon as he spoke, "Birkoff is missing."

***********

In her utter disbelief, Nikita responded impulsively, “What you do mean, Birkoff is missing?”

“What do you think I mean, Nikita. He’s missing. He went out last night and has not returned. He is not anywhere that we could expect him to be,” was Operations’ terse reply.

Nikita leaned back in her chair in stunned silence. Birkoff was missing. What could have happened to the young computer whiz? He was the closest thing to a little brother that she’d ever had.

Michael, who never visibly lost his composure, asked quietly, “Have we received any demands?”

Operations shook his head. “He’s been out of our sight for at least 12 hours. That’s plenty of time for his kidnappers to make their demands.”

“Maybe he’s not been kidnapped,” Nikita suggested. “Maybe he’s just AWOL.”

Michael cast a warning glance at Nikita. “Where would he go? He lives here on site.”

Operations said, “Exactly! His personal contacts have not seen him either. If fact, he was supposed to meet one of them last night, and he never called, which I am told is unusual for him. I’m very afraid we have to assume the worst. Birkoff has been kidnapped by one of our enemies, and we have very little time to find out who and where.”

Nikita swallowed convulsively as she realized that Birkoff didn’t have the intensive training and programming that cold ops. did. How long could someone like Birkoff hold out under extensive interrogation and torture. Not long, she guessed.

Operations’ instructions were brief and to the point. “Michael, find him. Develop a profile and extract him. If you can’t extract him, cancel him. We can’t allow someone with Birkoff’s knowledge of Section’s inner workings to be interrogated and cracked.” Operations turned on his heel and left the briefing area.

Madeline looked at Michael and Nikita, “Time is of the essence. No one wants to cancel Birkoff. We need him too badly.”

Michael and Nikita rose as one to go to Michael’s office. Nikita asked, “Where the hell, do we even start, Michael?”

Michael looked at Nikita with his blank stare. “I have an idea,” he said softly. At her raised eyebrows and puzzled look, he shook his head signifying that he would say nothing else for the moment.

After the pair reached Michael’s office, Michael activated the descrambler that secured the room, so that they could talk privately.

Nikita slumped in the chair across from his desk. “All right, Michael, tell me. What’s the idea?” Nikita was impatient and anxious as well.

“I think it may have to do with his father.” Michael was rapidly tapping on his computer. He seemed to be in control, but Nikita was stunned by this sentence.

“His father! What do you know about Birkoff that I don’t. Well, I mean I don’t know very much, and I know what he first told me were lies, but...” she sputtered.

Michael sighed and stopped his key strokes. He looked at her with emotional green eyes and said, “I’m responsible for Birkoff being in Section One.”

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

Sensations returned--pain, darkness, vibration and the inability to move. Where am I, he asked himself. He struggled to remember. I was on my way to Gail's apartment, and what? What happened? His head pounded miserably as if the arterial blood flow desired a way to escape the confines of his body. I've had a concussion, he thought. I've been unconscious. Wonder how long?

Slowly, the memory of driving along the parkway returned, and he visualized the gray sports vehicle starting to pass. It swerved and ran me off the road, he remembered. Then nothing till now. I’ve been taken by one of Section’s enemies. Do they know I’m missing? How long has it been? Where are they taking me? The questions flooded through his mind in a roaring torrent. He struggled against his bonds, but was unable to free himself. Man, he thought, where are Michael and Nikita when you really need them? They’re probably shacked up at Nikita’s apartment doing who knows what to each other.

Birkoff knew he would have to depend on his own devices to remove himself from the mess in which he found himself. He knew just how unlikely it would be for Section to bargain for him. Oh, he knew his value to Section One, but they never bargained, at least they hadn’t to his knowledge in the last eight years.

Section One had allowed Simone to vegetate in a Glass Curtain cell rather than bargain for her return. Operations had not even told Michael that she was being held prisoner. Birkoff had often wondered how Michael had been able to continue as if nothing had happened, and he had often wondered if Michael had forgiven Section for that one. No, he doubted that the trait of forgiveness was a big factor in Michael’s emotional makeup.

Birkoff tried to remember his training, as in “What to do if you are kidnapped.” The sensible answer came to him, ‘Escape. duh!’ Oh, but how? At any rate, he could continue to waste his energies trying to free his bonds, or he could at least wait until they let him out of the vehicle in which he was confined. He didn’t have a lot of choices currently, and he knew it.

The vehicle began to slow imperceptibly at first, then with a grinding of the brakes and a bump, it stopped. A man’s voice shouted, “Quickly, get him out of the van and into the house!” Rough and impatient hands pulled Birkoff out of the van and stood him on his feet, which were numb from being tightly bound. He collapsed to the ground and was pulled roughly to his feet again, only to collapse again.

Stronger hands grabbed his jacket collar and dragged him. Still blindfolded and bound hand and foot, Birkoff was at their mercy as they relentlessly pulled him over the uneven and rocky terrain. Finally, Birkoff felt himself being dragged over a couple of steps and a door sill. At last, maybe he would be able to find out who had kidnapped him.

He was shoved down on his knees and the blindfold was whipped off his head. There was not a great deal of light in the room, but it was enough to blind Birkoff for a few seconds. The voice he heard stunned him.

“Hello, brat,” said a voice filled with soft derision and little affection.

Birkoff blinked his eyes and shook his head. “Uncle Nick?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, my murderous, loving little nephew. I have found you, and now you will pay dearly for what you have done to this family.” Birkoff’s eyes had adjusted to the light level in the room, and he could see Nikolas Birkoff and that he had aged beyond his 52 years. His face was haggard and a round puckered scar marred the left side of what had once been considered a handsome face. His hair was completely white, making him look even older.

“Most of all you will pay for your father’s death, little Seymour.” With this pronouncement, the angry older man slapped Birkoff across the face. “You will finally pay for your betrayal.” Nikolas spun on his heel and made as if to leave the room. “Keep him bound for now,” he barked at one of the rough-handed guards. And for pity’s sake, keep him away from the computers!”

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

“You!” was Nikita’s incredulous reply. “How?”

“I don’t have time to go into it now, Nikita. We have to find Birkoff. He’s a liability, whoever has him, but if his family has found him, they won’t leave him alive long.” Michael continued to access files, as Nikita slumped in her chair.

She took a deep breath and let it out in an exaggerated manner. “What can I do?” Michael continued his computer search and didn’t respond. “Michael! Talk to me. At least tell me what I can do to help.”

Michael glanced up at Nikita, “Get ready. If I find what I expect, we will need to move quickly. We will have to go in alone. There won’t be time to assemble a larger team. Understand?”

Michael was in the well-known machine mode, and Nikita recognized that she would not get any more from him until he was ready. “Of course. I’ll see Walter now.” Nikita rose and left Michael’s office without a backward glance. Michael nodded without seeing and maintained the steady pace of his search.

Nikita strode into Walter’s armory and asked, “Have you heard about Birkoff?”

“Sure, Sugar. Everybody’s heard. Any news? How soon is the team leaving?” Walter started pulling artillery from the back shelves.

“No team, just Michael and I are going.”

Walter raised a gray eyebrow. “Just you and Michael, huh? That guy gets all the luck. What’s the deal? Why just the two of you?”

“I’m not sure. He’s on to something, but he thinks it has to do with Birkoff’s family.” Nikita leaned closer to her old friend. “Do you know anything about his family, or how he came to be in Section?” she asked.

“Birkoff? No, all I know is that Michael and Simone came back from a mission dragging a kid with them. Operations raised absolute hell and threatened to cancel all of them, but when he saw how talented Birkoff was, well, he changed his mind.”

“That’s all?” Nikita had been in Section for four years, but there were levels and levels of knowledge that remained hidden. Each time a piece of the puzzle was revealed, she felt strangely elated, but cheated as well. Would she ever know them all, she wondered.

“That’s all I know. He’s been here ever since. You know that much, Sugar.”

“Thanks, Walter,” Nikita said as she raised her eyebrows. She was more confused than ever. Michael ‘and Simone’ had brought him into Section. That didn’t sound like the Michael she knew. It must have been Simone’s influence on him. He must have been a different man then, one she wished she could have known before the pain had overtaken his life.

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

Michael appeared at Nikita’s side. “I have a possible location,” he said to her. Turning to Walter, he said, “Give us everything we can possibly carry. Operations has already approved the inventory.”

“No backup, Michael?” Walter remembered the last time there was no backup, and that Nikita had returned gravely injured. The most memorable time before that, Simone had not returned at all.

Michael returned Walter’s questioning look with a blank stare and a soft, “No, there’s no time. Madeline will coordinate tactical from here, but it’s basically a two-man mission. We need to be in and out quickly. Nikita, be at van access in 15 minutes.” Michael pivoted on his heel and left.

An explanation from Michael was unusual, and Walter took it as a sign of Nikita’s influence on the younger man. He shook his head as he continued to gather the inventory Michael had requested.

Nikita was mystified as well, for the more she learned about Michael, the less it seemed she really knew. “No backup and Madeline listening to everything we say. This ought to be an interesting mission, Walter.”

“Just be careful, Sugar. I hate it that you’re going in alone. That’s never a good idea.”

Nikita patted the grizzled older man’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine. After all, I’m going in with Michael, and there’s no one I trust more on a mission. He’s proved himself to me, Walter.”

Walter gave an imperceptible shake of his head. “Even after all the things he’s done ‘to’ you, Sugar?”

Nikita gazed at Walter with luminous blue eyes and said a little wryly, “It’s all been part of the job--of keeping me alive, that is. I understand a lot more than I used to, really.” Nikita gave Walter a quick kiss on his seamed cheek and left to go meet Michael.

“Be safe, Sugar,” he said softly.

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

Birkoff sat in a chair looking at his Uncle Nick’s henchmen. They looked back at him as if he were going to attack them at any moment. What a joke, he thought. They had untied his feet, but his hands were now tied behind him and to the chair back as well. Birkoff couldn’t see a computer anywhere. He didn't think he'd ever been in this house before, and he still had no idea where he was, except that he was back in the bosom of his family. A family he had prayed he would never see again. The thought of where he was sent chills down his back.

“Hey, I need to take a leak. My uncle make any provision for that?” he asked insolently.

“Nah! We’ll ask him when he comes back. You can suffer till then,” the tall one laughed.

“What can it hurt?” Birkoff asked. “You both are twice my weight. All I want to do is pee.”

The shorter guard snorted and said, “He’s right. What’s the little wimp gone do? Pee on us?”

“Yeah, well all right.” He started untying Birkoff from the chair, but his hands were still bound behind his back.

They herded him down a hall and to the right. The shorter guard opened the back room door. Whew, he thought as the odor of ammonia hit him. Obviously no women at this house. “Well, are you going to untie my hands, or are you going to do the honors for me?” he simpered.

The shorter guard looked at the taller guard, who shook his head and said, “Untie his hands.”

It was a relief to have his hands free, and Birkoff spent a minute rubbing his wrists in order to increase the circulation to his hands. “Do you like to watch?” he asked. “I mean, where am I going to go? I don’t even know where the hell I am.”

The guard slammed the bathroom door, giving Birkoff the freedom to look for first for another way out. There was only a small transom style window, but he thought that maybe with his small physique, he could manage to squeeze through. He turned on the water faucet slowly to hopefully imitate the sound of emptying his bladder. Although Birkoff spent most of his life in front of a computer, he did work out a little and was agile enough to stand on side of the bath tub and open the window. He hoisted his body through the window and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The window was much higher from the ground than he had anticipated, for the grade was not level and it dropped sharply from the house. Birkoff rolled for twenty feet before being stopped abruptly by a dog house. “Grrr,” came the ominous response of the inhabitant inside the dog house.

Birkoff saw that there was a chain and decided to make a run for cover before the disturbed canine could arouse himself enough to exit and take a chunk of prime Birkoff flesh. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he sprinted for the trees behind the house. That twenty foot roll had given him some new bruises.

As he flung his body into the dense brush, the guard dog began to bark in full voice. Lights flashed on everywhere around the compound. Birkoff knew where he was now and knew he was in the deepest sh** imaginable. His Uncle Nick and the two guards came running out of the house. Birkoff knew his best chance for escape was to get to the computer and decided to make for the house while they were all out looking for him. He began a circuitous route back to the front of the house, while they headed for the woods.

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

Michael drove along silently. Nikita sighed as she asked impatiently, “Michael, are you going to tell me where we’re going and who has Birkoff? Is a briefing too much to ask?”

Michael glanced briefly at Nikita. “Birkoff has been taken by his family. They are a Russian Mafia family who emigrated to this continent ahead of Gorbachev’s fall. They are involved in several areas: drugs, arms and some minor espionage. They suffered a great loss of life about eight years ago and are just now recovering some of their influence.” Michael’s voice was monotone as he recited the facts.

“Eight years ago? About the time Birkoff came to Section? I suppose there is a connection,” Nikita prodded not so subtly.

“Yes.”

“Michael! First you tell me you are responsible for Birkoff being in Section, then someone else tells me that you and Simone brought him back from a mission. Tell me the whole story, Michael. I’m tired of the bits and pieces I have to quilt together to form the framework of your life.” Nikita was hurt. What she saw in front of her was the old Michael, and she didn’t intend to say ‘welcome back.’

“Nikita, we need to focus on the mission. I need to think as I drive. I need to go over all the possibilities. We can go over all the details later.” Michael wished Nikita would remember that Madeline was listening to every word they said. He pointed to his receiver to remind her.

Nikita nodded and said petulantly for Madeline’s benefit, “Fine, Michael. Focus on the mission.”

“There’s a reason for everything I do, Nikita.” ‘Focusing on the mission’ was the last thing on Michael’s mind. A similar trip eight years before was on it instead.

* * *

“Michael, focus!” Simone hissed softly as Michael’s right hand crept its way up her thigh. “We’re almost there.”

Michael smiled and winked at his wife, then placed his right hand back on the steering wheel. They were on their way to infiltrate and take down a Russian Mafia family, the Birkoff’s. “We’re supposed to be a couple in love,” he said teasingly. “Think we can pull it off?”

Simone smiled, “Possibly.” Her Asian ancestry gave her face a piquant appeal. She was not classically beautiful in the oriental sense, but Michael loved her deep brown eyes and mischievous smile. She had brought him a reason to live, a reason to come back from missions. She had helped him learn to insulate himself from what he had done and what he had to do.

When he had finished training with Madeline, he had been bereft of emotion and feeling, but the instant he had met his new team member, Simone, he had felt an electric current running through him that energized and renewed him. Amazingly, Simone had felt it too.

They had now been partners for several years now, and Michael was already the team leader. They had reached their destination in the dreary foothills of the Terenee Mountains. A small farm house was the site of the Birkoff compound. Several guards had marked their entry and awaited them with drawn machine guns as Michael and Simone stepped down from their vehicle.

“I’m Michael and this is my wife Simone, Gregori is expecting us.” Michael was slow and deliberate in his movements, so that the guards would not be spooked into any rash response.

“We know.” The sullen leader of the guards motioned with his head for them to enter the house. Michael and Simone walked ahead of them.

Inside the small house, Gregori Birkoff rose to greet them. He had a short but powerful build, dark brown, intelligent eyes and a suspicious look on his face. “So you are the team who is going to help me with my French contacts?”

“If that’s what you need us to do,” Michael responded. “We have many skills you might want to utilize, for a price,” he added. “Computers, contacts here and in the Far East.” Michael nodded toward Simone. Michael and Simone needed access to the Birkoff’s computer system. Section had finally traced the multiple unauthorized violations of the CIA’s system to this Birkoff family. There had been other incursions on other agency systems as well. Michael and Simone were there primarily to destroy the fledgling espionage network that the Birkoffs had begun to build.

“One stop shopping as the Americans would say!” Gregori laughed. “Well, my computer system is one of the best,” he bragged. “Would you like to see it?”

Michael shrugged and looked at Simone, “Sure. Why not?”

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

“How much longer, Michael? Why would Birkoff be in danger from his family? You’d think--”

Michael interrupted, “They probably consider him a traitor to the family. Let it go for now, Nikita. All you need to know is that, he’s in grave danger from his family, and we need to extract him. They will resist.”

Nikita rolled her eyes at Michael’s stubborn disinclination to talk and sighed. How much of his attitude was for Madeline’s benefit, and how much was the old Michael emerging, Nikita wasn’t sure, but she certainly felt there was more on his mind than rescuing Birkoff.

Nikita was correct in her feelings. Michael often wished that Nikita would learn the gift of silence. Simone had it, especially on missions. She had been a prime example of the ‘mission mode,’ that was now second nature to him. Although he had been promoted to team leader status before her, Simone had still taught him many lessons on their missions together.

* * *

Michael and Simone followed Gregori Birkoff into the adjacent room. It was filled with computer equipment and accessories. It was easy to see why this group was so successful at their incursions into the various government agencies. A youth sat keying busily at one of the terminals. He was thin, bespectacled and sported a bruised cheek.

“You let your kid play games on your system?” Michael asked with a voice that was rife with disbelief, but Simone merely raised an eyebrow at the circumstance before her.

Gregori snorted, “My ‘kid’ is a computer genius, and he designed and built our system. You would be amazed at what he’s accomplished for us.” He gave a hardier than necessary slap to his son’s shoulder. The young man jumped in response, as if he expected something worse.

Michael was sickened at the signs of abuse before him, but rescuing a child wasn’t part of the mission profile. Destroying the computer system, however, was. “That’s an impressive feat for one so young,” he responded.

Section One would be stunned to learn that their computer nemesis was a kid who barely looked to be in his teens. He continued to watch the youngster, who turned to him abruptly and said, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Then he cringed as if he expected Michael to retaliate.

“Your kid has a smart mouth, Gregori. Are we gonna do a deal or not?” Michael wanted to see more of the house. Simone followed alertly at his side as they left the room that housed the computer system. Gregori led them to a back room that served as his office. A heavily scarred wood desk and three straight back chairs were the primary furnishings. Gregori seated himself in the chair behind the desk and motioned for Michael and Simone to take the other two.

“I need someone who can run interference with my French contacts. I don’t speak the language too well, and I’m never sure if I’m being cheated or not.”

“If all you want is an interpreter, Gregori, you could find one a lot cheaper,” Michael told him insolently. He stood as if to leave.

“Michael, Michael, of course, I need more than an interpreter. I need your contacts as well for another venture I have in mind,” Gregori hastened to mollify his new acquaintances.

Michael raised an eyebrow, “What else do you have in mind, Gregori? Simone and I don’t work cheaply, and we don’t do penny ante jobs.”

“Just exactly what does Simone do, Michael? What are her skills?”

Michael smiled, for he knew where Gregori’s mind was going. He had seen Gregori’s surreptitious glances at Simone’s trim figure. “She’s the tough one of the two of us. She’s the one that will cut the throat of anyone that touches her,” he said softly as he caressed her cheek.

Simone’s brown eyes glinted as she gave a half smile and said one word, “Right.”

Gregori coughed and said, “Right.”

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

By keeping low the to ground and by moving very quietly, Birkoff managed to re-enter the house without being caught. He tiptoed in the front door. From what he had seen since his arrival, there were only his uncle and two guards on site. They had all left the house when the outraged guard dog started barking. He realized that he did remember the house, but there had been some changes to the interior. He walked cautiously to where he remembered the computer system was located, but it wasn’t there! Birkoff quickly and surreptitiously cased the rest of the house. Nothing, he thought. It’s inconceivable that there is no computer.

Birkoff spied the door to the basement and tried it gingerly. It opened smoothly on well-oiled hinges, and Birkoff tentatively peered into the basement. Instead of the dark and dank basement that he expected to see, he saw light and an underground computer systems center. The area appeared to have been enlarged at least three times the floor space of the small farmhouse. This was quite an undertaking, his uncle had engineered in the last eight years. Was his uncle’s operation this successful, he wondered.

Birkoff cautiously took one step down. He was certain that there would be someone in attendance with the computers, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught. He took another step down the stairway and held his breath. He prayed that there would be no tell tale creak to alert anyone who might be there of his presence.

He stopped abruptly. He could hear two men speaking softly in Russian. Unfortunately, since his emigration from Russia as a small child, Birkoff had spent most of his life speaking English, and what little Russian he had known had been erased by time in Section One. He wished now that he had continued to study his native language as Madeline had suggested more than once, but the memories that hearing the language generated had been unpleasant ones--ones he’d rather forget. He knew that with his limited hand-to-hand skills he would not be able to handle two men--one, maybe, if he could surprise him. Birkoff slowly inched down the rest of the stairway and silently placed himself behind a huge carton and waited. Sooner or later, he thought, one of them would have to take a break.

***********

The terrain became more and more mountainous as they approached the Teneree Mountains. Nikita continued to observe Michael as he drove toward their still unknown to her destination. His mind appeared to be far away, and she wondered if he were merely focusing on the upcoming mission, or if he were remembering the last mission. He ‘and Simone’ were both on the mission that brought Birkoff to Section One. How stupid I am, she thought. Of course, he’s remembering and comparing.

“Michael,” she said hesitantly.

“Yes,” he responded tensely.

Nikita placed a hand on his thigh, but he flinched in response. Nikita was taken aback, but said, “I’m sorry. This must bring back a lot of memories.” As he heard her words of understanding, Michael acknowledged that her touch was not a thoughtless, sensual overture, but a gesture of comfort, and he relaxed.

“It does,” was his soft response. As he gave her a quick glance, she could see that his jade eyes were shiny with emotion. Nikita said no more, remembering that Madeline was on the other end of the comm.

* * *

Operations strode into Madeline’s office. “Where are we with them? Have they reached the target zone yet?” He was carrying his usual brown cigarette, the one he no longer smoked. It was a comfort just to have it in his hands. The surgeons had warned him after his massive chest wounds that any further damage to his lungs would shorten his life dramatically.

“No, they are still en route to the Tenerees, but they will be there soon.” Madeline offered him little encouragement personally, but she was flawless in the execution of her duties to Section.

“Have we heard anything from anyone? Is Michael so sure that his family has him? I’m still not convinced of it myself, but I’m at a loss to explain no other sign of a ransom demand,” Operations paced as he spoke.

“My calculations show that Michael has a 78.2% chance of being correct. Birkoff’s family has begun to re-establish its power base. I’ve been tracking them for a while now. Birkoff is a very valuable commodity to whoever has him, but I doubt his family wants him for his computer skills. There’s an old saying, ‘Revenge is a dish, best served cold,’” she added.

“I’ve heard that one before. Exactly who said that?” he asked. It sounded Chinese to him.

Madeline looked at him with an unusual twinkle in her brown eyes as she said with a slight smile, “I believe the source is from the Klingon philosophy.”

“Oh, well, of course. They would know,” Operations responded. Madeline as always mystified and entranced him. ‘Klingon philosophy’ indeed, he thought.

“How is Nikita holding up on this mission? She appears to be very fond of Birkoff. I don’t want any problems with her, if Birkoff has to be sacrificed.”

“She is fond of him, in a sisterly fashion, of course. There ‘will’ be problems if that scenario arises, but I feel Michael will be able to handle her. He always has before. She’s been a little impatient. Michael has been not very communicative with her right now, but she seems to have developed some understanding of what Michael is experiencing on this mission.”

“He’s thinking about Simone,” Operations said quietly.

“Of course, he is. How could he not?”

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

While Michael and Gregori sat down to work out the financial details of their alliance, Simone quietly watched. Her powers of observation were one of her most acute senses, and she did not sense any duplicity from Gregori. Like Michael, she too had felt Gregori’s interest, and she was, as Michael had stated, quite able to defend herself.

Michael was possessive like most young men, but Simone knew she was capable of performing in any mission profile. If the profile had called for her to seduce Gregori Birkoff, she would have no qualms about it. Michael, on the other hand, would have. He still had a problem with detaching himself from Simone the operative. Intellectually, Michael knew the difference between Simone the operative and Simone his wife, but emotionally, he wasn’t quite there yet.

Michael was several years younger than she, and had fewer years in Section, but he was coming along nicely. At least Operations thought so. Simone loved Michael as much as she was capable, but her separation of emotion and self-preservation was complete. She was the perfect Section One operative, and her mission had always been to assist Michael in making the same transformation.

She remembered the day she had arrived at Section One headquarters from the Hong Kong substation. Madeline had outlined her responsibilities in the task of ‘perfecting’ Michael.

“We need you to bond with him, as rapidly as possible,” Madeline had stated. “He has the potential to be one of the most superior operatives we have ever trained, but there is still an underlying emotionality that must be suppressed. We are counting on you to teach him how to do that. Whatever he wants from you, do it. Our records indicate he is highly sensual and he needs an appropriate outlet that will not put him at risk for other more unfortunate liaisons. He has strong romantic leanings that a ‘relationship’ with you will fulfill. In the process, you will have to teach him how to separate the job from your relationship.”

“Of course.” Simone had responded. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that he’s reasonably good looking,” she had added saucily with shrug of her shoulders and a toss of her head.

Madeline had smiled and turned a monitor toward Simone, “See for yourself.”

“Not too shabby,” Simone had responded as she looked at the handsome features and jade green eyes. “How soon do I get to meet him? What does he know about me?”

He knows that there is a new team member coming in from Hong Kong to join Jurgen’s team. That’s all he knows, and you can meet him now.” Madeline smiled. Simone was the perfect choice for Michael. Simone would do quite nicely without becoming so emotionally involved that she lost all sense of purpose.

“What does Jurgen think about this plan? Is he aware of my intended role with Michael?” Simone had queried. There were some complications that needed to be addressed before she met Michael.

“Basically, he is aware of your role. He’s not thrilled, given your history with him, but Jurgen will be able to function as required. Since Michael has been granted full operative status, he and Jurgen have formed an uneasy truce, so the less Michael knows about your prior relationship with Jurgen, the better.”

“Section is a hot bed of gossip, Madeline. It’s not a secret that Jurgen and I were a ‘team’ for two years. Michael is bound to find out,” Simon had protested.

Madeline had smiled and said, “Then I will leave it to your judgment how best to handle it when he does. I have faith that you will do quite well in that instance.”

Simone had jerked her attention back to the present. Michael stood to shake hands with Gregori. Simone rose to do the same, but Gregori’s hand lingered a little longer in hers than was necessary. Michael noticed and Simone could feel his tension mount. “I think we are all going to make a good team, Michael and Simone. Let’s have a drink to celebrate our new alliance,” Gregori began as he opened a desk drawer, removed a bottle of Russian vodka and began to pour them each a drink.

The three lifted their glasses in a toast as Gregori gave the Russian equivalent of “cheers!” Simone continued to feel Gregori’s gaze on her body. The mission profile might need to be tweaked a bit she decided. Distracting Gregori would allow Michael the time he needed to destroy the computer system.

************* Birkoff’s patience was wearing thin, and his back and legs were cramping from his crouched position. He had only been hiding behind the crate for an hour, but it felt like ten. He heard his Uncle Nick and guards return to the house and the irate cursing and slamming as a result of their unsuccessful hunt. It reminded him of the slaps and blows he had received as a child, both from his father and mother and uncle as well. His burgeoning skill with computers had protected him from the worst abuse, but it had been bad enough. He would never forget the day that Michael and Simone walked into his life and changed it forever.

Semour had been sitting at his keyboard for several hours and wanted a break, but his dad had insisted that he stay there a little longer. Dad had been expecting guests--more mercenaries, he supposed. More creeps, he thought. He knew the involvements his father and uncle pursued. He knew they were illegal and dangerous, but he was just a kid and really had no choice. His dad had even taken him out of school, and Gregori Birkoff’s reputation was such, that the authorities had not dared to interfere.

Semour’s only had fun when he was hacking into someone’s computer system, and the more secure and forbidden the system, the greater the fun. He was never allowed to go outside anymore to play or exercise, and he never watched TV. The computer keyboard was his access to the world, the only access. Whenever he had first protested, he had been beaten, so he no longer protested.

Semour didn’t understand how his ability with computers came to be. He saw no evidence of great intelligence in his family, or maybe the intelligence was of another kind--cunning. His first experience with computers came while he was still allowed to go to school. A teacher had recognized ‘something’ and had spent extra time with him, encouraging him to learn all he could.

Proudly, Semour had shown his father how he had learned to tap into the school’s computer system. His father’s reaction had been one of dismay, then elation as he realized he had a budding computer genius under his roof. That had been the end of childhood for the young Semour.

Semour heard the confusion as the ‘guests’ arrived. He was sure that sooner or later they would be given the ‘tour,’ and that he and the computer would be part of the tour. He continued to type as he attempted to hack into a government system called S1. He had been unsuccessful, thus far, but he wasn’t going to give up. Semour didn’t look up as the new arrivals entered. His father was already bragging about the sophisticated system. He heard a French accented voice ask, “You let your kid play games on your system?” Geez, Semour thought, what a jerk. Then he heard his father bragging about his ‘computer genius’ son like he was a trained monkey or something. His father then slapped him on the shoulder, too hard. It was a warning to keep his mouth shut, he knew.

Semour kept his head at his task, and heard the same French voice say, “That’s an impressive feat for one so young.” Semour began to feel the hair on his neck rise. He could feel the stranger’s gaze. He turned around and said, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” He cringed not knowing how his father might respond. He was able to see the visitors for the first time. They were pretty young. One of them was a woman, quiet and Oriental. The male with the French accent was tall and had long hair tied back in a pony tail. Semour felt the Frenchman’s green eyes as they seemed to stare right through him. The man’s concerted gaze disturbed Semour. It even seemed as if the man were trying to ask him something, but Semour didn’t know the answer, or the question either for that matter.

“Your kid has a smart mouth. Are we gonna do a deal or not?" the Frenchman had asked Semour’s father, and then they followed his father out of the room.

It was a close call. Semour realized the Frenchman had diverted his father’s attention away from his smart answer to business, and he was relieved.

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

The terrain became increasingly mountainous. The air was clear and crisp, and any other time Nikita would have enjoyed the view. They had passed through a small quaint village and were now continuing into the higher elevations. They had been riding for several hours, and still Michael had little to say. She looked at him and touched his shoulder. He said quietly without taking his eyes off the road, “We’re almost there.”

Nikita thought his words were meant for her, but his next words told her they were meant for Madeline.

“Have you heard anything, Madeline?” he asked.

Madeline’s response was audible to them both through their comm units. “No. There have been no communications since the early one of longitude and latitude. We assume that was from Birkoff, but it could still be a trap, Michael. Be careful.”

Nikita had not known about the earlier communication, and she gave Michael a petulant punch on his shoulder. She would not give Madeline the satisfaction of knowing that Michael had not thought it necessary to give her this piece of intel. Michael gave her a sideways blank stare, which was not nearly as effective as the full forward treatment. Nikita gave him a wolfish smile in return and decided to play a little as they drove. He needed to be punished a little for ignoring her. Nikita knew she was being a little childish, but maybe he needed focus on something besides the past and the pain it invariably brought to his countenance.

She wished his hair weren’t pulled back Hong Kong style. That style didn’t encourage her to run her fingers through his wavy locks. She decided instead to run one of her fingers around the margin of his ear. A little shiver was the only response her mission mode partner made. She leaned closer to him and ran her hand down his arm to caress the back of his right hand. Luckily, he wasn’t wearing any gloves at the moment. Nikita was rewarded with another sideways glance, but this one wasn’t blank. His expressive green eyes asked her what the hell she thought she was doing.

Nikita smiled, her azure eyes twinkling. Michael rolled his eyes back a little and sighed. He knew Nikita was warming to her task, and so would he be, if she continued. Nikita’s hand next trailed along his right thigh, appreciating the muscular development she knew so well. His thigh tensed in response, and he willed it to relax again, but Nikita felt the response and continued.

The thick Kevlar vest made playing with his chest a moot point, but the Kevlar ended at the waist. Nikita’s next gentle assault was exactly where he was most sensitive to her touch. Unfortunately, the tight pants he wore habitually when on missions did not leave any room for expansion. He gave her a pleading look and swallowed dryly as Nikita caressed his genitals through the tight material.

His voice was hoarse as he finally gave up the battle of wills, “Ni-ki-ta.”

“Yes, Michael,” was Nikita’s alert and seemingly nonchalant response.

“Focus,” he mouthed, knowing Madeline was most likely listening now that they were so close.

Nikita gave him her most radiant smile, silently kissed her fingers and placed them over his lips. Michael could not resist silently kissing her fingers in return. As she pulled her hand back, he shook his head and she saw his half smile. At least for a moment, he had put aside his past and pain, and Nikita was reassured. The Michael she had come to love was still in residence.

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

“Etienne! Come up here,” came the angry shout from Nikolas Birkoff. Semour made himself as small as possible behind the crate as Etienne quickly left his computer station and did as he was ordered. Birkoff knew this might be his only chance to access the computer and communicate with Section One to tell them where he was. They probably thought he had been taken by one of their frequent enemies like Red Cell or Bright Star. It was even conceivable that Section could think he was trying to escape the Section. Perish that thought!

Birkoff peeped over the edge of the crate and could see one lone technician hunched over his terminal. The other terminal was free. He knew he had to act quickly, for Etienne could come back at any time. He looked around for a weapon and decided on a small box that was so heavy, it must contain a hard drive of some type. He picked it up and brazenly walked over to the stunned technician.

“Hi, looking for me?” he asked as he dropped the heavy box on the tech’s foot. The tech grunted and started to bend forward. Birkoff gave him an undercut to the chin. The tech went sprawling backwards, and Birkoff wasted no time in access the computer in front of him. His fingers flew as he connected to a D.O.D. satellite and sent his access codes through cyber-space. Quickly, he entered the approximate latitude and longitude for the Teneree Mountains, something he had learned in school long ago.

He barely had time to complete this task, for noise and confusion came rolling down the steps in the form of Etienne and his Uncle Nick. “I told you idiots to keep him away from the computers,” he shouted. Nick backhanded Birkoff across the face and knocked him down. Birkoff’s head hit a tower as he fell. His glasses went flying, and darkness claimed the young computer genius before he hit the floor.

“Tie him up. We’ll be having company now for sure. We have to be ready.” Nick spit the orders into the air. “Call for backup. Where ever this little bast*** has been, they will be sure to come after him. We’ll eliminate them all! Time for payback for the murder of my brother Gregori.”

* * *

Gregori had his eye on the oriental woman. Even though her possessive husband had warned him about ‘touching her,’ he thought he detected some slight interest on her part. It might have been the slight grin as she said “Right,” or it might have been the frank look of seduction she had given him later, when her Frenchy husband’s attention had been diverted. She was tall for an Asian woman, which intrigued him. He could see by her trim shape that she was firm and muscular as well. Bedding her would be an athletic event.

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

Michael pulled into a rutted side lane. “We are approximately one half mile from the Birkoff compound,” he said. “We will approach the rest of the way on foot.” Michael was already emptying gear out of the ranger.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Michael!” Nikita protested. “We’re going to carry all this stuff a half mile. Then the two of us are going to attack a heavily guarded compound and rescue Birkoff, if he’s still alive, and then come back another half mile in order to get away? That’s the stupidest profile I ever heard.”

“Nikita, if you would listen to the rest of the plan before making judgment--” Michael started.

Madeline’s voice interrupted, “Nikita, the profile will not be altered. Listen to Michael, and listen carefully.”

Michael’s back stiffened at what he felt was Madeline’s unnecessary interference. “I can handle this, Madeline.”

Michael gave a shake of his head, and his expression told Nikita to ‘keep quiet.’ Nikita acquiesced silently, but rolled her eyes and shook her head as well.

Michael began to give the rest of the profile. “Nikita, you will take point, disguised as a hiker who is lost. They may well be expecting a mission to rescue Birkoff, but not in the form of a lone female who needs their assistance. With you to distract them, I will take out the guards. Once we are both inside, everyone is acceptable collateral. The exit strategy is simple. Either they will all be dead, or we will.”

“Everyone, Michael? Even Birkoff?” Nikita asked, with disbelief visible in her blue eyes.

“If there is no other way, even Birkoff, Nikita,” responded Michael in his monotone voice.

“Then why bother at all, Michael? Why are we here?” Nikita was not anything if not stubborn in a good cause.

“Because we can’t let them use Birkoff. He has too much intel about Section One. There is nothing the Birkoff’s would love to do more than destroy the Section. Of course, we will extract Birkoff, if we can.”

“Michael, you are so cold-blooded at times. I don’t see how you can look at yourself in the mirror in the mornings.” Nikita was angrily helping Michael unload the ranger as she spoke. She could have cared less that Madeline was listening.

“Later, Nikita. Focus on the mission.” Michael handed Nikita a colorful blue vest to cover her body armor, and make her look more like a lost hiker than the deadly Section operative that she was. He tugged gently at her blonde hair to encourage it to fall softly over her shoulders.

Nikita shrugged off his hand and fluffed her blonde hair. She was not to be deterred from her goal. “Birkoff is our friend. He’s a part of our team. He’s totally valuable to the Section. We will rescue him, if he’s still alive. I’ll see to it.”

“Why aren’t you going in as point, Michael?” Nikita asked curiously. She knew the answer, that she was a better distraction, but Michael’s answer surprised her.

“Nikolas Birkoff knows me,” he replied quietly.

“Oh.”

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

Nikita followed Michael up the narrow trail toward the Birkoff compound. Michael, of course, was attired in the usual mission black. The bright blue-vested Nikita now sported a heavy hikers back pack, while Michael carried the even heavier arms that would be needed for the assault. Neither spoke. Now that they were within striking distance, the adrenaline rush was starting for both of them. ‘Focusing” was no longer difficult. It was automatic.

They were now close enough to see the old farm style house as it sat in a well-cleared area. Michael held up a scanner. “There are six guards outside, and it looks like that many more warm bodies on the inside.” Madeline’s voice was a continued irritant to Nikita, who much preferred to hear Birkoff’s smart-mouth sense of humor in her ear on missions.

“Okay, Nikita, go,” Michael said softly, but the look in his troubled eyes said, ‘Be careful.’

“All right, show time,” Nikita said as she took off in her unique rolling stride through the trees and never gave him a backward glance.

Michael sighed and could not help but remember his last time here and Simone who had been the ‘distraction.’ “Sequence initiated,” he said to Madeline.

* * *

Gregori had shown Michael and Simone to the small room where they would sleep. As they had prepared for the night, Simone told Michael of her plan for distracting Gregori, so that Michael could sabotage the computer system. “It does make sense, Michael,” she had hissed tersely.

Michael had rejected the idea, “No, it’s not necessary. We’ll just wait till they’re asleep.” Michael had despised the idea of Simone being touched by Gregori Birkoff.

“Michael, you’ve seduced other women when it was necessary in the course of a mission. This is no different. It’s doing whatever is necessary,” Simone had argued.

Michael looked at her with his green eyes full of emotion. “It is different, to me,” he had said softly. It had always bothered him that Simone was so casual about seduction scenarios. She truly felt that the separation between the operative and the person existed, but he still agonized over each time. He agonized because he felt he was being unfaithful to his wife. Sometimes he agonized over his seductee, especially if she were a victim of circumstance--someone to be used in order to reach the real target.

“Michael, you may be the team leader, but you need to focus on the end result, not what it takes to get there,” she had insisted, for Simone possessed the true Section mentality to the core of her being.

“It’s not part of the profile, and the profile will stand as designed once initiated,” Michael replied in his most authoritative whisper. Simone was incredibly stubborn, which could be both good and bad in an operative, as well as in a wife.

“We will not improvise on this profile, Simone. That’s my final word.”

“All right, Michael. We’ll follow the damn profile.”

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

When Birkoff regained consciousness, he found that he was bound, gagged and blind-folded. Well, old Uncle Nick certainly isn’t taking any chances this time, is he? He wondered how long he had been out. His head ached, but it wasn’t unbearable. The sensory deprivation was the worst. Was it day or night? Where was everybody? Most of all, what had happened while he was unconscious? Had there been a rescue attempt? Had it failed? And last but not least, what did his uncle intend to do with him? Birkoff reasoned that if his uncle intended the ultimate retribution, he would have already done it. Question after question came to the young man, who usually had all the answers. It was not a comfortable feeling to be without intel. In fact, it was downright paralyzing.

Birkoff’s Section training held. Although he did not possess the same level of technique that a Michael or Nikita did, he did remember certain inviolable rules. Use whatever senses you have. Never give up trying to free yourself. Look for even the smallest advantage.

Birkoff began to struggle against his bonds. They were tight, very tight, and the devilish thing was, the more he struggled, the tighter they became. He began to listen--the only one of his senses he had available. He couldn’t hear anyone overhead, so he deduced that he was upstairs and not in the basement where the computer was. Damn. An odor of borscht wafted his way. He could tell he must be close to the kitchen, as well. Someone was cooking. As a child, he’d always hated borscht, but as hungry as he was rapidly becoming, even borscht would have been nourishment. Another rule: maintain hydration. Geez, he was thirsty.

As Birkoff, strained to listen, he heard something else. His Uncle Nick was tersely whispering orders to the others inside the house. Something was going on outside. Someone was coming. Birkoff could hear the foot steps approaching.

“Shhhh.” Nikolas whispered. “I don’t trust this.” He saw a tall and beautiful blonde standing on the front porch. She knocked loudly and confidently, as she looked around. Nikolas opened the door cautiously, “What?”

“Oh, Hi. Gosh I’m really glad there’s someone here. I’m afraid I’ve managed to piss off my boyfriend and get lost at the same time. I wonder if I could use your phone to call back to the village where we were staying.” Nikita’s words tumbled out rapidly. “He might be worried about me, and then again he might not, if you know what I mean,” she continued with a bright, disarming smile.

Nikolas was charmed, but wary. Cautiously, he motioned for the guards to clear the room. They moved slowly into the side rooms, while they still managed to observe the beauty at the door. Carefully, he retreated into the room and allowed her to enter.

Nikita struggled with her 50lb back pack. “Mind if I take this damn thing off? It must weigh a ton. I’m not used to all this outdoor crap, but my jerk of a boyfriend thought it would be fun to go backpacking in the Tenerees.” Nikita’s words tumbled rapidly over her tongue. “And my feet are killing me. These hiking boots must have been made in hell.”

Nikolas had nodded his assent at her first question, and Nikita was in the process of removing the back pack, and stretching her 5 foot 10 inch body this way and that, much to the enjoyment of all the men.

Nikita counted the four men in the immediate area. Madeline had said six, so there must be more somewhere. She hoped that one of them was Birkoff, but she saw no sign of him, as expected.

Elation filled the heart and mind of the missing Birkoff. He could hear Nikita bullshitting his uncle about being lost. He’d never heard her ramble like that before. She was rattling like an air head blonde, and he would have loved to see the reactions of his Uncle Nick and his Russian goons.

Birkoff didn’t know where his uncle had him stashed, but he decided to make himself as small as possible, since he knew that gunfire would erupt sooner or later. They had sent a team after him, and all he had to do was hold tight and let the fun begin--and not get shot.

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

Michael watched Nikita enter the clearing of the Birkoff compound. She was nonchalant and perfect in her execution of the helpless and hopeless female in distress. She was well-trained, and he was proud of her. While Nikita was busy charming the bad guys inside, Michael marked the locations of the six guards on the outside.

Michael moved silently through the dense cover afforded by the natural vegetation. He was already close enough to his first mark that he could hear him breathe. Michael listened and his patience was rewarded. He heard Nikolas Birkoff’s voice over a simple radio device. Russian was one of Michael’s better languages, and he understood the guard’s reply to be a coded response.

Michael swiftly and silently slit the first guard’s throat. A look of surprise reached the guard’s eyes before the light died. Quietly and efficiently, Michael picked up the radio and continued to the next guard.

Michael’s movements were reminiscent of the stories told of Native Americans who could move through the wilderness without a trace. Each move was economical and silent. One by one Michael removed each obstacle to the mission. Each terminated guard brought him closer to the house and to Nikita.

A Russian voice erupted from the radio transmitter, and Michael gave the correct response in Russian. Michael had the back of the house in view. There was no exit point and, therefore, no way to enter unseen. Michael reported into the comm unit to Nikita, “The outside guards have been terminated. The only way in is through the front door. If Nikolas sees me, it’s all over. You’re going to have to take down as many as you can. I will be there to back you up, the minute you start shooting.” Michael paused and added, “Be careful, Nikita.”

Michael listened as Madeline spoke over the comm unit. “There are still 6 warm bodies in that house, Nikita. Only one is stationary, and that is probably Birkoff. One appears to be located in the lower level computer room, so that leaves the four you can see. Michael, a diversion would be effective.”

“Yes, a diversion. Of course.” Michael already had in mind to create his own diversion. He had noticed a beautiful German Shepherd in the back of house. Michael tossed a rock at the dog house, and the reaction was just what Michael had desired.

The dog was furious that his puppy dreams had been disturbed, and he began to howl and bark. He scented the strange Michael scent as well, and his hackles were raised in fury and the incursion on his territory.

By the time the dog had enthusiastically warmed to his task, two guards rushed out the front of the house. Michael dropped both of them with two well placed shots. Simultaneously, inside the house, shots rang out, and Michael heard Nikita yell.

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

Michael acted instinctively as he rushed the house. He didn’t dare fire blindly. No matter what he had said to Nikita before, Birkoff wasn’t expendable, and neither was she. He intended for the three of them to return safely. In his mind that was the only acceptable outcome for a successful mission.

He peered cautiously around the door. A silenced shot whooshed past his head missing him by millimeters. Michael dropped, rolled and fired in the direction of the terrorist he had seen and heard the satisfying sound of a body hitting the floor, but he still hadn’t seen Nikita.

Michael scrambled into the house and dived for cover as another silenced shot spit past his left shoulder. Michael returned fire and heard a “Oomph” as another one fell. Michael was out of ammunition and quickly chambered another cartridge. That’s four, he thought. Two more besides Nikita. One of them is Birkoff.

“Michael, status?” Madeline’s voice interjected over his comm set.

“Six outside guards terminated and four from inside.”

“I’m reading two more hostiles plus Nikita. There is a fourth warm body, but as it has been totally stationary throughout the shooting, I am assuming it is Birkoff and that he is restrained.”

“Can you tell where Nikita is? I haven’t seen her yet.”

“There are three in the lower section of the house where the computer system is located. Birkoff appears to be in a small room on the mail floor. Retrieve Birkoff at all costs, Michael. If you cannot retrieve Nikita without jeopardizing the mission, initiate the termination sequence of the entire compound.

“No!” Michael’s response was soft, but determined. “There’s plenty of time before anything like that has to be done.”

“Nikita is expendable, Michael.” Operations’ rasping voice made Michael wince. Michael removed his comm unit and threw it on the floor. He deftly and purposely stepped on it crushing it beyond hope of function. “Oops.”

Furtively, Michael began the search for Birkoff. Without further interference from Section or Nikolas Birkoff, Michael located the younger Birkoff quickly. Michael quickly slit the bonds that held the computer genius and motioned for him to leave the house.

Birkoff shook his head and held out his hand for a gun. Michael looked at him in surprise, but nodded an agreement. “This is the second time you’ve rescued me, Michael. I owe you.”

* * *

Simone leaned over her sleeping husband and whispered, “Michael, it’s 2AM. The kid is the only one awake. Let’s do it.”

Michael stirred, put his arms around Simon, and pulled her close to his chest. “Yes, let’s do it,” he said as he nipped and kissed her neck. Simone pulled away reluctantly, but firmly and started to prepare for the action ahead.

Michael quickly returned to his mission mode of behavior and began his own preparations. He quickly assembled the detonation devices that would destroy the compound and the computer system along with it.

Simone preceded him out the door, and Michael was startled to hear a, “Going somewhere, ma pet?” from Gregori Birkoff.

Simone responded quickly, “Shhh, I was looking for you. My sweet little husband is asleep. Dead to the world, in fact.” Simone’s sultry brown eyes locked onto Gregori’s as she ran her tongue along her top lip.

Gregori inhaled sharply, as he felt a sensual thrill course through him and radiate to his groin. “You must be lonely,” he whispered as he drew her into his room.

Michael exhaled, able to breath for the first time since he had heard Gregori’s voice in the hall. Simone was right he thought, as he moved down the hall to the computer room. He could hear Simone giggle, but he shook his head and forced himself to focus on the mission at hand.

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

Michael signaled Birkoff to stay behind him as they approached the entrance to the lower level where the computer system was housed. “Is there any other way in, Birkoff?” Michael asked. Michael knew that the POS on this type of situation was dismal.

The younger operative shook his head.

“Merde, that’s what I was afraid of.” Michael hated what he was going to have to do, especially if Nikita was injured. Lobbing a percussion grenade into the systems area would not endear him to her in any event, but at least it would immobilize Nikolas and whoever else was still with him.

Birkoff’s eyes widened as he devined Michael’s intent. “Michael, no. Not with Nikita down there,” he protested.

“Percussion only, Birkoff.” Michael said as he prepared the grenade.

Birkoff let out a sigh of relief, then shook his head. Nikita was not going to be happy. Experiencing a percussion grenade was not on his list of pleasant experiences.

Michael opened the door just wide enough to toss the grenade into the systems area. He and Birkoff threw themselves on the floor as well. The jarring explosion came in 10 seconds, and it felt to Birkoff as if the house would be torn from its foundation.

As soon as the reverberations started to wane, Michael hurled down the stairway. What he saw was not reassuring. Nikita, Nikolas and the third were all immobilized on the floor, and Nikita was covered in blood as were the other two.

Michael and Birkoff rushed to her side. Michael felt for her carotid pulse. It was there, strong and regular. Reluctantly, he turned to the other two men. He looked back at Birkoff. “I’m sorry, Birkoff. The profile says no prisoners.”

Birkoff nodded his understanding and turned his head as Michael aimed and shot both men in the head. “We have to get her out of here. We don’t know what kind of backup your uncle may called.”

Birkoff nodded again and helped Michael lift Nikita and carry her up the stairway. He remembered the last time. The profile said ‘no prisoners’ that time as well.

* * *

He had looked up in surprise as Michael had entered.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” the man with the softly accented voice asked. “Surely, it’s past your bed time.,” he had said as he leaned against the wall.

“I sleep whenever I want to, and I don’t want to very often,” had been his smart reply.

“Well, say I wanted to destroy your computer system, and your being here kind of puts a damper on that idea,” Michael had said playfully.

“Huh?” was the next brilliant response he had made, as Michael had slapped a large powerful magnet on the case of the hard drive. Birkoff had shouted in outrage, “Hey, what the hell are you doing, cretin? Dad!”

Michael had prevented any further response by clapping his hand over his mouth and did some kind of maneuver at his neck, and he had simply passed out.

Michael moved the unconscious teen’s body out of the line of fire. He heard a shot from the direction of Gregori’s room, and Simone came rushing out. “Set the charges, and let’s get out of here, Michael.”

“Too late, we’re going to have to fight our way out,” was Michael’s terse reply, as more members of the Russian family and their crew came rushing into the house.

Michael and Simone, although only two, outgunned them. They had been prepared for a fight, while the Russians slept. It only took two minutes, but at the time it seemed longer. Bodies fell in slow motion, as blood sprayed in ever widening arcs around the room.

Finally, there were no more Birkoff’s to kill. Simone turned to Michael again, “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“What about him?” Michael gestured toward the inert young Birkoff.

“Acceptable collateral, Michael. You know the drill.” Simone took aim.

“No, he goes back with us. We can use him.” Michael protested as he diverted her aim.

“You’re out of your mind, Michael! We’ve just eliminated this kid’s entire family. I don’t think he’s going to want to work for Section One.” Simone took aim again, but this time Michael stepped in front of her gun.

“I said, no.” Michael hoisted the teenager over his shoulder and walked out into the deadly night.

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

Nikita emitted a small groan as consciousness began to return, and instinctively she started to struggle.

“Nikita, it’s over,” Michael said as he tried to restrain her wild movements. Finally, he gave up and let Nikita drop to the ground, which helped to clear her head.

“Over? Oh, the percussion grenade. Damn, Michael. Did you have to do that? I had them under control,” she said. Then she gave her two rescuers a half smile, “Well, almost.” Nikita hadn’t suffered the effects of a percussion grenade since her initial training, and the experience had not improved with time.

“You didn’t respond. You were out of sight,” was Michael’s defense. He knew Nikita could be impossible, and here she was debating the means he had used to rescue her. The relief he had felt at finding her unharmed was palpable. He loved her and wanted to throttle her at the same time. It was not an uncommon occurrence for Michael to feel this diverse response to Nikita, which had started in the white room.

* * *

As he had turned to leave the white tiled room, Nikita had taken the opportunity to attack him from behind. He had easily flipped her to the floor, and as he told her, “When you attack from behind, go for the kidneys. It immobilizes your opponent. Consider this your first lesson,” he had been dazzled by her opalescent blue eyes. He had felt the strength and energy in her young body, and his had started to respond. He had managed to pull himself away in time before losing himself in those eyes.

“We start at 5AM,” he said as he stood at the door.

Nikita defiantly dismissed his first lesson, “And if I don’t want lessons?”

Michael had managed to tell her coldly, “Row 8, Plot 30.” As he had stood on the other side of the door, he had taken a deep cleansing breath, brushed his hair back, and walked down the hall, increasing the distance between him and the young goddess in the white room.

* * *

As she sat on the ground assessing her various body parts, Nikita gave Michael a look of wide-eyed innocence. “My comm set came off.”

Birkoff was nervous at the widening rift between Michael and Nikita. “We’ll have to check that out when we get back to Section, Nikita. That shouldn’t have happened,” he said trying to defuse the situation.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Michael gave Nikita his outstretched hand. She took it reluctantly, and he pulled her to her feet. Silently and without a backward look, Michael gathered his equipment and started the journey back to their vehicle. It was not unlike the ending of the previous mission. Michael, one irate woman and Birkoff. Only the woman had changed.

* * *

Simone had argued all the way back to Section One. “You are going to get us canceled, Michael. Operations will never accept this. You should have canceled him on the spot.”

Michael had argued, “He’s gifted, Simone. He’s just a kid. He had no choice. You can see he was abused, too.”

“Michael, your compassion is going to get you into trouble one of these days,” Simone had replied, but she had finally stopped haranguing him.

* * *

Somewhat sullenly, Nikita followed. Michael needed to get over it. She was tired of his sullen silence on this mission. She hoped when they returned to Section that he would return to being ‘her’ Michael after the debrief. This mission had been fraught with too many memories for him--memories in which she had played no role.

Birkoff took the rear position of the quiet procession feeling bewildered as usual by the uncertain and volatile dynamics between Michael and Nikita. Everyone knew now that they had a ‘relationship,’ in spite of the several years speculation that occurred prior to its actuality. What really confused Birkoff was that while the pair were seemingly at each other’s throats right now, there was still the underlying current of mutual desire that even Birkoff could not ignore.

* * *

Birkoff had listened to Michael and Simone argue about him. He had lain quite still in the back of their van and pretended to an unconsciousness that he wished he felt. The woman had wanted to ‘cancel’ him, while the male operative had argued for his usefulness to Section One, whatever that was.

Birkoff only knew he wanted to stay alive, and he hoped Section One wouldn’t be any more abusive than his father had been.

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

As they walked along to the exit point, Michael reported calmly to Madeline. “Mission completed. Birkoff is unharmed. Targets eliminated.”

“Good,” was Madeline’s terse reply. “See you when you get back for the debrief.” Madeline then changed comm channels and reported to Operations. “They’re on their way back. The mission was successful. Birkoff has been retrieved, and the last of his family has been eliminated.”

“Good,” was Operations reply. His plan had worked perfectly. Tipping Birkoff’s location to Nikolas had been a stroke of genius. It had enabled Operations to eliminate the last family connection, while ostensibly having Birkoff rescued by his friends and colleagues at Section One. Luckily, Semour had not been harmed by the experience, and there would be no more concerns over ‘what if.’

Operations remembered his outrage when Michael and Simone had returned from the first mission with the 14 year old Birkoff in tow.