* * *

He had puffed on his cigarette as he paced and had asked Michael during the debrief, “What the hell do you expect me to do with a fourteen year old kid in Section One? Are you out of your mind? Is this your way of guaranteeing your cancellation on the spot?” Michael’s arguments had been cogent, articulate and unemotional.

He had stood there with his hands folded in front of him as he argued. Simone had been silent, but watchful. “This is the nemesis that has been giving us so much trouble. He’s brilliant. I’ve seen first hand what he can accomplish with the computers. We don’t have anyone that’s as gifted as he is. He’s young, but that will only make it easier to train him in ‘our’ methods. He’s been abused, and he’s used to obeying orders. He will ultimately be grateful to us for his new life.”

Operations had looked at Simone. She hadn’t said a word during any of Michael’s calm argument. Operations had the feeling that she disagreed with Michael, but would not show it openly.

“You’re very persuasive, Michael, but I will have him evaluated to see if he truly can be assimilated into Section One. Madeline’s decision will be final.”

Michael had responded, “Of course. I just want him to have a chance. Is that all?”

Operations had always hated it when Michael called for the interview to end. Michael was different from the other operatives. He always had been. His performance on missions was always superb. He was more intelligent and more arrogant. A little arrogance goes a long way, Michael, he thought. Tread lightly. “That’ll be all,” he nodded.

Michael reacted with a nod, in an exact imitation of Operations’s, as he pivoted on his heel and left. Simone left following Michael, but not without a backward glance at Operations, who continued to fill the air of his office with smoke from his thin, brown cigarettes.

* * *

Operations smiled as he remembered. Michael had been correct, and Birkoff had been the most valuable asset ever brought in the back door of Section One. Now Birkoff belonged to Section One for good. Operations had been worried since finding that Nikolas Birkoff had survived the first mission and had crawled into the night only to resurrect the Birkoff mafia family. Now all the loose ends had been cut and tied into one neat package--just the way he liked it.

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

The effects of the percussion grenade were beginning to wane, but not fast enough to suit Nikita. She head still ached, and all she really wanted to do was take a long nap. Simultaneously, Michael turned to her, “Why don’t you get in the back and lie down. Birkoff can help me drive, if necessary,” he said softly. He knew he’d been distant and abrupt with Nikita on this mission, and it wasn’t her fault. He was so accustomed to internalizing his emotions that he seldom bothered to consider how that habit impacted Nikita. Impacted her, he thought. It infuriated her. Nikita was surprised at Michael’s thoughtfulness--and pleased. Nikita gave Michael a shy smile and said, “Thanks, I will.” Then she walked over to him, put her arms around him and said, “Michael, the mission is over. You can relax.”

Michael’s initial reaction was to pull away. He glanced at Birkoff, who was wisely looking in the opposite direction. “The mission isn’t over till....”

Nikita interrupted him with a kiss, “Till I say it’s over, and it’s over. Relax.”

Michael smiled his half smile. He couldn’t help it. The word ‘relax’ held a special connotation for them, ever since a certain mission in the suburbs. “Ni-ki-ta,” he drew her name out and exaggerated his accent as he did. He looked into her turquoise eyes and felt the irresistible impulse to drown in them.

Nikita’s head dropped back, revealing her white throat. Michael groaned. He wanted to lay claim to her as she offered parted lips to him. “Nikita, this is not the place or the time.” The words were agony to utter.

Nikita grinned and pulled away. “I know. I just thought I would torture you a little bit. The mission’s not over till I say it’s over,” she said as she mimicked his French accent with devastating accuracy.

Michael was aroused and conflicted. He pushed Nikita against the van. Her eyes widened. She apparently hadn’t expected any further response from him. “No, the kiss isn’t over till I say it’s over,” Michael said as his lips claimed what had been playfully offered, but he wasn’t playing. Seductively, he teased her lips with his tongue.

Nikita’s lips parted, and his tongue no longer teased, it assaulted. It assaulted her senses, and any effects of the percussion grenade were long forgotten. Nikita moaned as Michael’s hands started to roam over her body.

Birkoff was beginning to feel like the red-headed stepchild at his father’s fourth wedding. It was one thing to ‘hear’ about Michael’s and Nikita’s infamous surveillance tape from the Armel mission, but it was another to stand helplessly while they went at it right in front of him. He knocked on the side of the van. “Yoo hoo, guys! I know you don’t want to hear this, but shouldn’t we be getting back?”

Michael and Nikita both groaned as they broke their embrace. Michael summoned his blank stare, and Nikita laughed and rushed over to hug Birkoff as well. “Well, I always wanted you to learn to knock, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she giggled as she ruffled his short hair.

Birkoff gave her a clueless look. He had absolutely no idea what she meant.

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

Madeline and Operations met the trio as they returned to Section. They stood smiling as Michael, Nikita and Birkoff exited through Van Access. “Well, Mr. Birkoff, we’re very glad to see you again,” said Madeline as she gave him the more radiant version of her Mona Lisa smile.

“You know you’re simply too valuable to lose, Birkoff,” offered Operations as his greeting.

Birkoff ducked his head and shyly said, “Thank you for sending Michael and Nikita to find me. I was really worried for a while. It’s good to be back home.” He looked around and admitted in some surprise, “This really ‘is’ my home.” Section had been an education, and it had been a sanctuary, but he had never really considered it home, in spite of the 24 hours a day he spent there for years. The people in Section One were more like a family than his real family had been. He remembered his first fateful visit with Madeline.

* * *

A fourteen year old Birkoff sat uncomfortably in a dungeon-like office. He thought it had a really cool atmosphere, but he didn’t like the idea of being ‘tested’ by whoever Madeline was. He fidgeted, then noticed her computer. Well, at least he could have some fun while he waited. He sat in her chair and let his fingers fly over the keyboard. Wow, he said to himself. They really have some interesting people in this joint. He had already managed to access the psych-ops files on the two agents who had brought him in. Michael had been a student bomber! Woo hoo, Simone had been an assassin for hire, who had taken one too many jobs and landed in Section one.

A soft feminine voice asked, “Are you finding anything of interest?”

Birkoff jumped and looked around the room anxiously. He saw a beautiful young woman coming down the stairs. She had dark auburn hair and large, sad brown eyes. He felt she could see through him into his logical heart and soul. “Sorry,” he started.

“No, you’re not. It was a computer, and therefore to be conquered. Is that not so, Mr. Birkoff?” She walked around to where he was sitting and waited. He hurriedly sprang from her chair. “Thank you.” Madeline sat and smiled at the youngster. “You may sit there,” she offered with a graceful gesture. Birkoff managed to stumble his way to the chair.

“I’ve been going over your test scores. You’re a very bright young man, in addition to having extraordinary skills with computers.”

“Yeah. I’m a whiz!” Birkoff arrogantly reclined in the chair as he tried to look older and nonchalant.

Madeline gave a somewhat brittle smile as she continued. “Of course, your social skills are sadly lacking. We’ll have to work on those.”

Birkoff flushed and wisely kept his response to himself.

“I have decided that you are worth keeping alive, Semour. Do you think you can work for us? We have much greater resources than your father and uncle ever dreamed. You won’t be harmed here. You will be expected to learn to defend yourself and use weapons, but your primary function will be eventually to operate our Systems Department.”

“Weapons! Cool!” Birkoff, after all was still a child.

“How do you feel about how your family died? Do you harbor resentment toward the operatives who retrieved you from them? You may have to work closely with them in the future. It’s best for us to know now how you really feel.” Madeline probed gently. “You can tell me. You can trust me.”

“No, they rescued me. My father used me like a slave. I had no friends. All I had was the computer. He beat me, too.” Birkoff’s head bowed in embarrassment.

Madeline smiled. “We’re like a family here. We’ll protect you. That will be all. Walter, will show you to your new quarters.”

Birkoff escaped from Madeline’s lair. He felt like he had been sized up and felt lucky not to have been discarded. He had already heard too many rumors about the deadly ‘black widow.’

He met the weapons expert, Walter in the hall. “Hi, kid. Looks like you lived through the inquisition. Let’s go find you a place to hang out.” Walter led him down multiple halls till he reached a room. Walter opened the door, and Birkoff’s mouth dropped in amazement. The room was filled with video arcade games, a computer, of course, and a television.

“Wow,” was all he could say.

Walter laughed. “You must really be special, kid. They didn’t give me a room like this when I came here.

After Walter had left him to his new digs, he had furiously tried them all. Suddenly, the adrenaline rush left him, and Semour lay on his bed, curled into a ball and cried till there were no more tears. After all, his father had been his father, even if he hadn't been a good one.

Madeline touched a button, and the monitor screen went black. She turned to Operations. “He should be all right. He has a high survival quotient. Michael and Simone did well to bring him to us.”

“Yes, they did.”

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

Nikita stood before Operations, which was what she hated more than anything. When she had to debrief with him, she always felt like an insect about to be pinned for his perverted inspection. She felt she always fell short in his evaluation of her performance on the mission. She never minded sparring with Madeline, but Operations was another matter entirely.

His opening gambit surprised her. “It was an excellent mission, Nikita. Your only mishap was losing your comm device. You and Michael continue to work well together as a ‘team.’” Operations voice was tinged with a touch of sarcasm and a bit of something indefinable, as if he were referring to something else. “You know, of course, that Michael and Simone were an excellent team. It might interest you to know that of the two Simone was more like the Michael you see now, and Michael was the more emotional.”

Nikita’s eyes widened at this revelation. She wondered why was Operations telling her this. What was his motive in this ‘sharing?’

Operations continued, “We have Simone to thank for the Michael we see today.”

“And you rewarded her by letting Glass Curtain keep her prisoner for three years without ever lifting a finger, or even telling Michael she was alive.” Nikita shook her head in disgust, and glared at Operations.

“Nikita, you know the Section doesn’t bargain with terrorists. That’s our policy.” Operations was not perturbed by Nikita’s attitude, only that she felt so free to express it. She still lacked discipline--Michael’s failure.

“It didn’t hurt that separating Michael and Simone freed Michael of any hindrances to ‘doing the job’ either, did it?” Nikita hurled the accusation at Operations. “And his son--what about his son? Was that part of your master plan as well? Take everything away from him that made him human, in order to produce your master level five operative?”

Operations took a deep breath before he answered. “Nikita, Section One does not exist for any other reason that to take down terrorists. You are all convicted killers, who have been given a second chance to accomplish something worthy for society as a whole. Don’t you ever forget that. As for Michael’s son, he never had a son, Nikita. You know the Section would never allow that.”

Nikita took a deep breath. This was the second time she had heard a denial that Michael’s son had ever existed, but she still wasn’t sure she believed it. “Is there anything else? You know, mission accomplished, Birkoff’s back, bad guys destroyed again.

Operations eyes snapped as he said, “Nikita, you are still on very thin ground with me. It would behoove you to think before you speak. I know it’s difficult sometimes when your emotions are running high, but perhaps you should direct those energies at what or who is really upsetting you. That will be all.”

Nikita glared in response, but felt the arrow of truth as his words hit her.

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

Madeline had wanted to debrief Michael after this mission. She knew it would be fraught with memories, and she wanted to see if his brief stint in therapy had helped him deal with those memories and emotions. He stood before her now, and only she knew how uncomfortable he was with her during a debriefing. He stood quite still with his hands folded in front of him, which was a technique she had taught him long ago. “It was a very successful mission, Michael. We are happy to have Birkoff safe and unharmed, as well as the last of his family eliminated.”

Michael understood Madeline’s meaning immediately. It was patently clear that it had been a manipulation to eliminate Birkoff’s uncle. “We tipped his family, didn’t we?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. He returned her blank stare with his own.

Madeline decided to ignore his question and asked one of her own. “What was it like, Michael? Did it bother you that the last time you encountered Birkoff’s family that you were with Simone? I am curious to know if it affected your performance in any way.”

“No. It was a mission. We had a job to do and we did it successfully.” Michael would never give Madeline the satisfaction of knowing how disturbing the mission had been. His memories were his own and he did not intend to share them with her. She had tortured his psyche at the end of his training, and she apparently still enjoyed pushing his buttons. He, however, had learned from the best how to reveal the least amount of information possible. He had learned to lie and betray friends, and he had learned these tactics from Madeline herself.

Madeline smiled at her former trainee. On one hand she was pleased that he had learned what she had taught so well, but on the other, it was infuriating to try to plumb the depths of Michael’s emotions. “Surely, you felt something, Michael. Were there no memories to come back and haunt you?” She observed him take a breath before he answered, “No.” Then she saw him look away for a second. This momentary lapse told her volumes about what Michael had actually experienced.

Never satisfied with pushing only one button, Madeline decided she would try from another angle. “How was Nikita’s performance? Any mistakes or lapses I should know about?”

“Madeline, you were in direct contact with us at all times. You have the viewcamm tapes. What more do you need to know?” Michael replied.

“I seem to remember losing contact with both of you during the assault. Nikita was not responding, and immediately after Operations told you Nikita was expendable, we lost contact with you. I would like an explanation of that.” Madeline saw Michael’s jaw tighten before he spoke.

“Nikita’s communication device lost skin contact, which should have not happened. However, I do no think the loss of adhesion is Nikita’s fault. The problem lies with the inferior adhesive quality of these new devices. Budget cuts are one thing, but the quality of our communication devices should be the of the utmost importance.”

Very good, Michael, she thought. Attack instead of defend. “And your comm set? How did it become dislodged?” Madeline was warming to her task. It did Michael good to squirm, except he refused.

“The physical activity during my assault dislodged the device, and I stepped on it.” Michael knew this was the weakest part of his story, but he knew the positive outcome was more important than his deliberately stepping on his comm set. Let Madeline get her kicks, he thought. It’s part of who she is. She knows I’m not ever going to consider Nikita expendable.

“Is that all?” he asked.

Madeline’s smile froze, and she answered without blinking. “Yes, that will be all, Michael. Well, there is one more thing.”

Michael stopped short in his turn to leave, “Yes?”

Madeline’s warmer smile returned, “I know that going over the details of the mission is disturbing to you, but it ‘is’ a necessary part of the mission. It was an excellent performance today, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Thank you.”

“That will be all, Michael.” She wanted to have the last word.

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

Birkoff walked into Systems and was dismayed at the disarray he saw. Discs were lying everywhere. He had no idea what they contained. As his frustration mounted, Gail rushed to his side and threw her arms around him and started crying.

“I didn’t know what had happened to you. I’ve been so scared. Did they hurt you?”

“Gail, I’m fine as you can see. Remember where we are.” Birkoff admonished her because everybody around them was smiling at the sight of his discomfort.

“Come on everybody, let’s get this place straightened up. I get kidnapped for 48 hours, and the whole place falls apart. Hey! Who ate my Oreo’s?” Birkoff looked around. Techs were scurrying to find more Oreo’s for their boss.

“Here we go!” Gail announced loudly, “One bag of Double-Stuffed Oreos--unopened, just for you.”

Birkoff took them and ripped open the cellophane. He was starving and couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He sat at his computer terminal and let his fingers fly over the keys. “Hey! Everybody get back to work.” Then he grinned and said, “It sure is great to be back home.”

This statement was followed by generalized hysteria in Systems. Only Birkoff would think of Section One as “home.”

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

Nikita walked into Walter’s armory, and as he looked up a genuine smile wreathed his seamed face. “Hi, sugar. Hear you all had a successful mission, and that our boy wonder is back with all his arms and legs still attached.”

Nikita smiled and said, “Yeah, he’s all in one piece.”

“I see from the inventory that Michael used the percussion grenade. Was it effective?”

Nikita snorted as she said, “I’ll say. My head still hurts.”

Walter raised his eyebrows as he asked, “Oops, do I detect you were in close proximity when he used it.”

Nikita gave Walter her half grin as she admitted, “Yeah, you could say I was in uh- close proximity to the target.”

“And have you forgiven Michael for doing it, yet?” Walter asked with a knowing smile.

Nikita smiled and nodded, “But don’t tell him yet. Speaking of Michael, have you seen him, or is he still in with Madeline?”

“Michael’s in his office, Sugar. I saw him go in there about five minutes ago.”

“Thanks, Walter. See you later.” Nikita gave the older operative a quick peck on the cheek as she strode in the direction of Michael’s office.

Walter stood shaking his head. “Some guys have all the luck.”

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

Michael sat with his eyes closed remembering Simone. He remembered her diverse nature, the ability to focus on the mission, her sense of fun when there was no mission, and her deaths. Surely, there were not many instances in life where one lost the same wife to death twice. He had to be unusual in that respect. Twice the horror, twice the nearly immobilizing grief, twice the loss of desire to continue had become an immutable fact of his life.

His life had been an exercise in second chances. A second chance at life after the university bombing had given him a second chance to accomplish something positive with the talents he had been given. Section One had even been thoughtful enough to give him a second chance at love, although he doubted that had been the intention when he had been given a raw blonde recruit as his new material. Whatever their intent had been, love had been the result.

He still doubted his ability to love, and he still doubted his worthiness of that love. Nikita--three syllables that made his heart beat faster whenever he heard someone say them. Nikita--his symbol of light, and as he had told her once, “the only part of me that isn’t dead.” Nikita--his hope for the future, if he had one.

Nikita gave a brief tap at Michael’s door and entered without waiting. She was surprised to see that Michael looked like he was doing nothing but sitting there with his eyes closed. He wasn’t tapping away on his laptop, and he wasn’t shuffling papers. “Michael, am I disturbing you?” she asked.

“No. Come in.” Michael reached to activate his scrambling device, and then looked at Nikita. “What is it?”

Nikita was astonished to see that Michael’s eyes were moist. No, he wasn’t crying, but his eyes were definitely shiny. “Are you all right, Michael?” Nikita’s voice had a slight tremulous quality.

Michael looked at her. “Yes, I’m all right. I’ve been doing a lot of remembering. The mission brought my thoughts back to Simone and our life together. There were a lot of things I had suppressed.”

“I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean to intrude. I can leave if you want.”

“No, don’t leave, Nikita. I need you.” Michael held out his hand to her, and Nikita took it. Tears filled her eyes as she kissed his finger tips.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Yes, but not here.”

Michael put his arm around Nikita’s waist as they left the underground world of Section One for the twilight of the real world. Michael drove in silence to a small riverside park. Nikita sensed that he would talk when he was ready. Michael smiled, Nikita was learning the gift of silence.

They walked along the river in companionable silence until Michael began to speak. “I wish you could have known Simone,” he started. “She was the most focused operative I have ever seen, but when there was no mission, she was a lot of fun. She played tricks on me, and kept me from taking myself so seriously. When we first met....” Michael continued. They walked arm in arm for two hours while Michael told Nikita about his life with Simone and their son.

At the end of this catharsis, Michael stopped and turned to Nikita. “You are my light, my soul, and my future. Don’t ever leave me, Nikita.”

“Never of my own choice, Michael, will I ever leave you. Ready to go home now?” Nikita thought her heart would stop beating, it was so full of emotion for this man.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

FINI

Send suggestions and comments to MNreign click HERE.