PROLOGUE:

Alone in her apartment, Nikita assumed a yoga posture and concentrated on her breathing. Images of the scene in Michael’s office only hours before continued to disturb her mind. At the end of Michael’s deep cover mission to infiltrate Eire Fein, an extreme branch of the IRA, his wife Stephanie had been killed as a traitor by her Uncle Liam, and his son had been whisked away by Section One to a safe house, the location of which was currently unknown. She had entered his office, seen his misery, but thought only of her own. The hate-filled words had spilled from her mouth without thought and without mercy, and she had left in a cold fury.

Michael’s last betrayal had been too deep, and Nikita had not been able to stem the anger and pain she felt. She felt she had been manipulated for four years, and that he had used her feelings for him to completely absorb her life. All the while, he had been married, had a child and had a normal life away from Section. After six months of freedom, she had come back to Section for him. She had jumped at the chance, and now she understood what a fool she had been.

Now, after time to reconsider, she was filled with remorse. In spite of his betrayal, she supposed she should have offered him comfort and friendship, as she had when Simone died. Instead she had given him hell and told him he deserved it, and he, mired in the swamp of guilt, had agreed.

Nikita could not conceive that she would ever be able to trust Michael again. Trust, once so vilely broken, could never be regained, or could it? She had never given him an opportunity to explain, nor had he demanded one. He had accepted her disgust as a mantle to be worn without question or complaint.

The question Nikita posed to herself was, what do I do now?

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

Operatives stepped aside as Michael walked past them. Section Operatives were not known for their consoling natures, and while the results of Michael’s deep cover mission spread rapidly through Section One, very few attempted to express their condolences. Michael’s natural reticence served as a buffer and prevented most from offering any form of sympathy. Walter was one of the few exceptions. Walter’s long relationship with Michael had always been a professional one, but Walter’s recent loss of his wife Belinda during a mission, demanded of him that he try.

As Michael entered munitions to return his communication gear, Walter could see that the younger man appeared withdrawn. The old Michael stood in front of him, and it broke Walter’s heart to see the blank stare and the rigid demeanor. Walter placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael started in response to the touch of another human’s hand.

“Michael, I’m sorry for your losses and the way everything turned out,” Walter offered as he looked Michael directly in the eye. Michael’s gaze wavered for a moment, and Walter thought he saw a glimpse of humanity; but the blank stare quickly returned to Michael’s face.

“It was a mission,” was Michael’s only reply as he turned and left Munitions. Walter stood and shook his head, for he felt nothing good would come of Michael’s pain.

* * *

Michael continued on his way to Madeline’s office. He dreaded the upcoming interview with her more than any he’d ever experienced. She would delve into his relationship with Stephanie and his ‘feelings.’ She would try to assess his future ability to perform based on the responses he would make. She would even pry into the status of his relationship with Nikita.

Too soon, he stood before Madeline’s door and access panel. He keyed in his code, and the door silently slid open. Michael saw that, instead of being seated at her terminal as she usually was, she was sipping tea in a manner that was both comforting and calming.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked in his usual manner and voice. Michael was able to maintain his control, but inside he raged at the circumstances that had brought him to this official psychological debrief.

“Yes, Michael, have a seat,” she said as she made a graceful gesture with her hand in the direction of an office guest chair. “Would you like some tea?”

Michael knew she expected him to refuse tea. He always did. “Yes, thank you,” he replied, wanting to play his own game and not hers.

Madeline’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but Madeline quickly recovered and poured the green tea into the small, antique Japanese tea cup.

Michael sipped the tea, as his green eyes challenged her to continue with her game.

Madeline accepted the challenge and began, “Of course, you know that you performed quite well on your deep cover mission. Operations was very pleased with the destruction of Eire Fein’s members in this country. The information you were able to access from Fogherty’s files was priceless, and the disruption of their general attack is an added bonus that no doubt saved hundreds of innocent lives.

Michael made no response to her praise and knew that she did not expect any.

Madeline continued, “I know that this has been a very difficult mission for you personally. I need to know that you can put this behind you. Can you?”

“Of course, I never let personal concerns interfere with my performance. You should know that by now, Madeline.”

“Michael these are more than personal concerns. Your ‘wife’ was killed during a mission, and your son has been relocated. Do you mean to sit there and coldly tell me that neither of these circumstances will affect your performance?” Madeline expected no other answer from Michael, but she had to probe.

“Yes. My wife was part of a mission. I was not in love with her,” he stated bluntly, hiding the turmoil and guilt he felt over her death. Stephanie had not deserved such an end, and he regretted it more than he would ever acknowledge.

“And your son Sean? Can you truthfully say that you are not concerned about his well-being and his whereabouts?”

Michael blinked at the mention of his son’s name. “I assume that you have seen to it that he is safe, and that is my main concern, of course.”

Madeline smiled as she continued to bait him, “You ‘trust’ Section One to protect your son, Michael? That certainly implies a naiveté on your part, don’t you think?”

Michael rose swiftly from his chair and came face to face with Madeline. “I ‘think’ that if you or Section One does not protect my son, I will kill you personally, Madeline. You may hold me hostage to his fate, but you will pay if he is harmed. Section One will pay if he is harmed. This interview is over. That is all I have to say.” Michael spun on his heel and left a breathless Madeline to reconsider her plans.

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

Nikita walked with trepidation toward Michael’s office. She could see through the blinds that he was there, tapping on his computer. She gave a light rap on the door and held her breath.

“Come in,” Michael said without looking to see who was there.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Nikita asked as she stepped inside the door, with her heart feeling like it would explode in her chest.

At the sound of her voice, Michael fingers stopped moving over the keyboard.

“Yes?” he asked in an impersonal voice.

Nikita felt her face flush, as she stammered, “I-I.”

Michael sighed and reached to activate his office scrambler.

Nikita took his motion as an invitation to sit. She would have had to resort to an old-fashioned swoon, if he hadn’t. She swallowed and tried to speak again. “Michael, I said a lot of things the other day that I shouldn’t have said. I-”

“You only spoke the truth,” he interrupted in a flat intonation.

“The truth as I saw it and ‘felt’ it at the time, but I have had time to reconsider, and I want to apologize for the horrible things I said to you. I-”

Again Michael interrupted her, “You had every right to feel and say-”

This time Nikita interrupted him, “I didn’t have a right to be hateful and cruel to you. I’ve been here a long time, and I know what Section is like. I thought I knew what you were like, but I’m not sure I will ever really know you, Michael.” She held her hand to his lips to stop him from interrupting her again. “I didn’t mean half of what I said, Michael. No one deserves the pain and control Section inflicts on our lives. You have given everything to Section, and they assess it and wonder how much more there is for them to take. I only wanted to say that I’m sorry for my pain that I vented upon you. My pain is my own responsibility, not yours.”

Nikita rose to leave, but was stopped by Michael’s soft, “Nikita, wait.”

Nikita turned in surprise, for she had not expected any response from Michael, who walked to the door ahead of her.

“Thank you. I never wanted to hurt you, Nikita. I would have told you, but--” Michael stopped. He shook his head and looked into Nikita’s eyes. “I wanted it to be over before I told you. I wanted it to be the past and not part of our present or future. The original profile was that I would simply disappear after the mission was completed, leaving Stephanie and my son together. They would have been cared for by her family. They would have recovered from the loss.”

“Your son? Why bring a child into that situation, Michael? That’s what I’ve never been able to understand.”

“Sean was an accident. He was never supposed to be conceived, but Stephanie desired a child very badly. Once he was born, I fell in love with him and only wanted to protect him.” Michael green eyes glistened with unshed tears. “That’s all I want now.”

Nikita bit her lip and put her arms around Michael. Michael lay his head on Nikita’s shoulder, while Nikita patted his back and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

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

After she left Michael’s office, Nikita experienced a feeling of unease. While they had managed a rapprochement of sorts, there had been no discussion of the future. Michael had stroked her face and brushed the hair from her eyes, but he had made no promises. Michael had reluctantly turned from her and resumed his work at his desk, which left Nikita feeling as awkward as when she had entered.

It seemed to Nikita that they had come so far in their relationship, but there always seemed to be an obstacle that kept them apart and kept them from actualizing the love they felt for each other. Sometimes it seemed to Nikita that fate kept them dangling and twisting like puppets, unable to move toward one another unless the puppet master was willing. Section One had thrust them together, then had driven them apart, time and time again. Perhaps, it was a sign that they had no lives of their own and never would. Nikita wasn’t sure she could spend the rest of her life without being able to give and receive love, and she could not understand how Michael was able to continue without it the way he had.

* * *

In truth, Michael had long ago perfected the process that split his life in halves or thirds. There was the Section Michael, respected and feared by most, and there was the Michael who had recently been a husband and father, now bereft of both relationships. Then there was the essential Michael, and exactly who ‘was’ he? Was the essential Michael the one Nikita loved? Michael wondered if she had any idea who he really was. If ‘he’ didn’t know who he was anymore, how could Nikita be expected to know.

Images came to him at unexpected times. Images of the first time he had seen Nikita in the white room--her feral beauty, untamed and untutored, had claimed his soul. He also saw her hooded visage shimmering in the night, when he thought her dead, and later, nearly asleep on the old ship with moonlight casting highlights on her blonde hair. Every memory he had of her emphasized her physical beauty as well as the beauty of her soul.

He had not been angry with her when she, consumed by the pain of his betrayal, had denounced him. He had loved her enough not to plead for her understanding. He would only cause her further pain, if their relationship continued, and he could not bear to hurt her further.

He had been stunned when she sought him out earlier that day. He never expected forgiveness, but he could do no more as he accepted the apology and comfort she offered him. The comfort her arms had bestowed was more than he could stand. Her body had fit his as if they were matching male and female bookends, her white light to his black soul. He had wanted to hold her forever and keep her light to warm him and keep him from the darkness he felt he deserved. The true dilemma was that Michael felt Nikita deserved more than the wreck of a man that he was.

* * *

Tip Wellsley watched Nikita walk past Munitions, which was apparently empty, because she did not stop for her usual chat with Walter. The English Section-Two had heard about Section One’s ‘blonde bombshell,’ and he had been delighted to see that the rumors had not exaggerated her beauty or her skills as an operative. His transfer to Section One as a Class Five operative had been timely. His liaison with Kathryn had been over for weeks, and she was already involved with someone new. He had not been able to trade lovers as enthusiastically as she had, and he was relieved not to have to see her all the time.

Since coming to Section One, Tip had heard plenty about Nikita’s relationship with the infamous Michael. How much was true, he had no idea, but from what he had observed during the mission to take down Eire Fein, there was obviously a bond between them or had been.

“Nikita,” Tip called to her.

Nikita stopped, turned her head in his direction, and looked puzzled. “Yes?”

Tip gave her his best heart-stopping smile, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?” he asked.

Nikita looked at him in wonderment. “Dinner?” she asked. “No, I don’t think so. I have a lot to do at home. Girl stuff, you know.” The last thing in the world she wanted was to go to dinner with a Robert Redford look-alike.

“You do eat don’t you?” Tip cajoled.

“Sorry, I’m really not in the mood. I wouldn’t be very good company.”

“Sometime soon, then maybe,” he said with a grin, “when you’re in a better mood.”

Nikita shrugged and said, “Maybe.”

Tip watched her as she walked away from him. She looked like one big bundle of hurt, and he wondered if she would ever allow him to come close enough to help.

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

Michael had spent the entire day searching the Section One data base, trying to find a location on his son. Birkoff had not been able to be of any assistance, for he had been of assistance to Nikita, one too many times. Madeline had threatened Birkoff with cancellation, and the young computer whiz preferred walking the straight and narrow, for the present. Michael had understood, for Birkoff had repaid Michael many times over for the rescue from his abusive Russian Mafia family.

Michael had not found any intel whatsoever relating to his son Sean and his mother-in-law Moira Fogherty. The longer he searched, the more certain he became that the intel was not in the data base. Given the disruption that Nikita’s finding his home address had caused, he considered it entirely possible that Operations and Madeline were the only ones who knew Sean’s and Moira’s whereabouts, and they weren’t telling.

He searched his brain trying to analyze the situation. He needed something of value to trade for what he wanted. The only problem was that Michael had no idea what would constitute ‘value’ to Operations and Madeline--something that would equal the value that he placed on his son. It would have to be something that he was not obligated to give them by virtue of their respective positions, yet something of value to them.

Michael’s comm set buzzed. It was Operations.

“I need to see you now, Michael.”

Merde, he thought. Madeline did not waste any time telling him about my threats.

Michael rose in one fluid motion, while buttoning his jacket with one hand, and went to Operations upper level office. “You wanted to see me?” he asked as he stood in his usual stance of composure with hands folded in front of him.

Operations sat on the ledge that ran across the entire observation office and smoked. “Yes, Michael. Madeline has given me her report on your psychological debrief. She thinks you need a vacation, somewhere warm, by the water,” he said with a slight smirk.

Operations response was not what Michael expected. “A vacation?”

“Yes, Michael, a vacation. You have two weeks to pull yourself together. Use it wisely. That is all.”

Michael knew it was no use to argue with Operations. He nodded and said, “Of course,” as he walked from the office.

Operations then called Birkoff, “Michael is leaving for two weeks of down time. His only computer access is to be email during that interval. Understand?”

“Gotcha, Michael, email only, next two weeks,” replied Birkoff, who wondered if he would ever rate some down time.

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

The music of Vibrolux pounded through Nikita’s headphones as she punched and jabbed and kicked through her usual evening workout. Perspiration ran down her back as the intensity of the workout increased. She could not hear the four significant knocks on her door, which were repeated a second time. As the rhythm of the music began changed, Nikita began graceful movements of a kata and entered the slow-down phase of her routine. She turned and was startled to see Michael standing in the doorway, watching her.

Nikita removed the headphones with one rapid movement. “Michael!” she said in surprise. Her first inclination was to run into his arms, but she had learned caution, which kept her from acting on that impulse.

Michael had the small half smile, which told her that he was pleased about something. His dress was very unusual for Michael in that he wasn’t wearing all black. He wore a forest green and black plaid shirt, along with black jeans and low-heel boots. The green of the shirt intensified the green of his eyes, the eyes that were centered on her.

Nikita realized she must make a horrific sight, dripping with perspiration, and her hair soaked with it, too.

Michael did not find Nikita a horrific sight at all. His body never failed to respond to the sight of her lithe one; but he had come to say good-bye, and he wished that so much of her body were not visible. She glowed with the health and vitality of youth, and to Michael, her loveliness was not dependent upon what clothes she wore or how her hair was styled. Her beauty came from the light in her heart, and it spoke to his, even today, after all that had transpired between them.

Nikita grabbed a nearby towel and began to dry her back and arms. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she began.

“I know. I should have called first.” Michael looked at his feet for a moment, then back into her puzzled turquoise eyes. “I came to say good-bye,” he said softly.

“G-Good-bye,” she stuttered in disbelief.

“I’ve been ‘given’ some downtime--two weeks to pull myself together. I’m going to try to find my son. If I do find him, I won’t be coming back to Section. I wanted you to know. Maybe it’s a sign of my arrogance that I think you would ‘want’ to know,” he said with a shrug.

Nikita swallowed and took a step toward him. “And if you don’t find him?” she asked.

“Then I’ll be back only until I do find him. Madeline and Operations are the only ones who know where he is, and they will use that knowledge to keep me in line,” he said with a rueful smile, as he took a step closer toward her.

“They’ll never stop looking for you, Michael. They’ll hunt you down and cancel you.” It was Nikita’s turn to look at her feet. “I c-couldn’t bear that, Michael. I could stand almost anything else.” Nikita took another step toward him and threw her arms around him. “I hope you find him, Michael. Live and be free.”

The heady feeling of having Nikita in his arms rushed over Michael. He tried to clamp down the controls, but with her it proved to be a useless attempt. He held her tightly, never wanting to let her go. He could feel her heart racing and knew that his matched its pace. Without volition, he heard himself say, “Come with me, Nikita.”

Nikita could not believe what she had heard. “What?”

“If I find him, I will contact you. Will you come with me and Sean? I have resources, Nikita. Money hidden away. That’s all it takes, enough money.”

Nikita was still reeling from the shock of Michael escaping Section. “They’ll track us, Michael,” she protested.

“I can fix it so they can’t.” He spoke softly but with emphasis. “If I find Sean in the next two weeks, will you come with me?”

Nikita was torn. She had been free once, free from Section, but not free from her passion for Michael. She had scrimped and saved at menial jobs, lived in a dozen places in her six months of freedom, but Michael said he had money. Maybe it would be different, if she were with Michael and his resources, financial and otherwise. “I know I’ve always wanted to be free of Section, Michael, but I’m scared. I don’t know.”

Michael understood her hesitation. It had nothing to do with how she felt about him, but more about leaving one type of uncertain existence for one that was more uncertain than any she had ever known.

“You don’t have to make up your mind this minute. I have to find him first. It won’t be easy, since I have no intel on his whereabouts.” Michael could resist her nearness no longer and kissed her lips.

Nikita surrendered to the moment and Michael’s demanding lips and hands. She could feel his arousal against her thigh as she ran her hands down his back to his buttocks. Michael was at the point of carrying her upstairs to her bedroom, when there came an insistent knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked, frustrated at the interruption.

“No,” she breathed. “I’ll get rid of them.” She tore herself from his arms and ran for the door.

“What?” she said to the tall blonde man standing there.

“I thought perhaps I could change your mind about dinner.” He said as he held out a sack of Chinese food and a bottle of wine. Then he saw Michael leaning against the kitchen island divider. “Oh, sorry. I see I’m interrupting.”

He turned to go, but Michael spoke, “No, I was just leaving.”

“Michael, no, don’t go,” Nikita protested.

Michael gave her a brief kiss on the lips, “See you in a couple of weeks, Love.”

After a brief glance at Wellsley, he added, “Behave yourself.” Michael made a graceful exit, as he silently cursed himself for his stiff-necked pride.

Tip gave Nikita a sickly grin, “Bad timing?”

“Bad doesn’t even ‘begin’ to describe it,” she replied, as she wiped the perspiration from her brow.

*********

“Who the hell do you think you are, surprising me like this? I told you I wasn’t interested in dinner. What part of that did you not understand?” Nikita said as she jerked a jacket from the closet. “Or are you so arrogant that you think you can come here and dazzle me with your charm?” Nikita didn’t wait for an answer, but ran out the door and down the hall after Michael.

He was already in the courtyard before she caught him by the arm. “Michael, I never asked him to come over.”

Michael turned to her and looked into her eyes. “Nikita, you don’t owe me any explanations. You have a right to see whomever you wish to see. I came to say good-bye, and I said it.”

“Michael, damn it! Don’t leave me like this. I will come with you, when you find Sean. I will!”

“It was stupid of me to ask you. I won’t hold you to that promise,” he said as he pulled his arm from her hand.

Michael’s blank stare was in place, his green eyes cold and flat, and it infuriated Nikita. “Yes, a damn stupid Frenchman is what you are. You will hold me to the promise, and I will go with you. We’ll never have any kind of life, if I don’t. I guess that makes me a stupid Francophile.” With these passionate words, Nikita shoved Michael against one of the brick walls and kissed him with her whole being. The blank stare disappeared and was replaced by a gaze of intense passion.

“Nikita,” he managed to breathe before surrendering to her ravaging tongue. He was powerless before a strong and resolute Nikita. He had no choice but to respond as his body deemed fit. She was his weakness, a lovely and frustrating enchantress, who had sung her siren song to him long ago and made him her prisoner. She was his Circe, Aphrodite and Artemis all in one.

“Come on, you’re not leaving me like this. I’m ‘dying’ for you, Michael.” Nikita began to pull him toward the entrance to her section of the building, and relished the power she felt over him.

“What about your guest?” he asked, as he allowed her to lead him where he desired most to go.

Nikita giggled, “If he’s got the brains he was born with, he’ll be gone.”

Nikita’s words proved true, for as she and Michael waited for the elevator door to open, Tip Wellsley stood there in the elevator, ready to leave.

“Sorry,” Tip apologized as he left. “Have a good evening.”

The only response was Nikita’s deep and throaty laugh, as she pulled Michael into the elevator.

***********

Madeline was not pleased with the intel she had received on Moira Fogherty and Sean. She drummed her fingers on the desk while she reviewed the material as it was displayed on her computer screen. It seemed that Moira Fogherty was finding it difficult to keep her part of the bargain. She had already made one unauthorized telephone communication to one of her remaining children. No damaging intel had been conveyed, but it was a disturbing precedent so early in the game. She and Michael’s child Sean had been relocated to Phoenix, Arizona and were still under close surveillance, but she had been given the money and identity that would provide them with a comfortable living.

Madeline was also able to tell that the child was severely depressed and angry, a condition, which while understandable, was being fostered and encouraged by his grandmother. Moira was actively trying to turn the child against Michael, who was supposed to be dead, and Madeline was not pleased with this turn of events. The child obviously needed therapy, but Moira was refusing to cooperate, preferring to keep him close and dependent upon her.

Prior to his mother’s death Sean had been a very precocious and rambunctious four year old. Now, he never played outside but stayed inside and watched TV. Moira never read to him or attempted any other method to stimulate his intelligence or even assuage his grief. Madeline knew Section One would have to intervene. She keyed in a priority message to Operations, for he would have to approve her plan.

His response was immediate. “What is it? I’ve just called in Wellsley. He and I are prepping the Libyan mission.”

“Things are not going well in Phoenix.” She continued and gave him her assessment and preliminary plan.

“Who did you have in mind for this?” he asked.

“Nikita would handle this quite well, I think,” Madeline said.

“We were going to use Nikita for the Libyan mission, but if you think she is necessary for this instead?”

“I do,” she said firmly.

“All right. What about backup?”

“That’s still under consideration. I’ll let you know when the profile is finalized,” Madeline said. She thought it too bad that Wellsley was involved with the quickly evolving Libyan mission. She wondered how Nikita and Wellsley would interact. He was extraordinarily handsome and very charming. He might even prove to be an antidote to Nikita’s Michael-fever. Maybe next time, she thought.

*********

Nikita’s Michael-fever was due for an exacerbation. The heat generated between the two of them continued to rise during short elevator ride to the fourth floor. Michael’s inclination was to take her there in the elevator, but luckily he managed to control himself. As the elevator door opened, they were greeted by the shocked faces of two of Nikita’s elderly fourth floor neighbors. “Well, I never....” was all that Nikita and Michael heard as the elevator door closed behind them.

Nikita and Michael both reached for their keys at the door, but Nikita was the quicker. Once inside, the serious insanity began. Hands, arms, and tongues began the battle for supremacy. Michael won the initial battle as he swept Nikita into his arms and took her upstairs to the bedroom.

He lay her gently on the bed and began to remove her workout clothes. His eyes were warmed by the familiar sight of her perfect breasts, no less precious for their familiarity. As he lay beside her and began to kiss her, his arousal became evident to them both.

“Off,” Nikita managed to say.

“Off?” he asked. What could she mean? Was he too heavy?

“Your clothes. Take them off, slowly,” she said languorously. Nikita had decided that she was still the team leader on this mission profile. Yes, she was going to be in charge.

Michael rose from the bed to do her bidding. He remembered quite well the scenario she was proposing. He began to sway his hips and shoulders slowly to an inner music, as he unbuttoned his plaid shirt, but he immediately began to feel slightly ridiculous. He wondered if women felt that way when disrobing for men, but he remembered the trials that Nikita had endured on missions, so he persevered. With his back to her, he removed his shirt and allowed it to drop to the floor.

Nikita stretched languorously on the bed as she watched the muscles play in Michael’s back.

“Continue,” she ordered.

Feelings of conflict began to sweep over Michael. He wanted to regain control and demand the comfort of Nikita’s body and bed, but he also wanted to please her by remaining in the passive role. In addition to feeling a trifle degraded, Michael was extremely aroused and painfully erect. As he unzipped his jeans and let them slide down over his buttocks and thighs, his erection sprang free as if grateful to be released from the confining jeans. As he stepped out of them and turned around, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Nikita.

“Michael,” she said hoarsely as she held out her hand to him.

As Michael took her hand, his previous feelings of degradation and conflict evaporated. His eyes tried to memorize her loveliness as he cradled her in his arms.

Her hands became entangled in his hair as she pulled him to her. One swift maneuver and she was astride him, kissing him. She used her teeth to nip at him. “You are so beautiful,” she said as her hands stroked down his abdomen to his muscular thighs, which began to quiver as she began to touch him more intimately with her hands and tongue.

“Nikita, please,” he said hoarsely.

“Please what, Michael? What do you want me to do?” Nikita was relishing her power over him.

“Something, anything,” he pleaded.

Nikita’s version of ‘something, anything’ was to surround his manhood with her feminine warmth. Michael’s groan, as she did, told her that he was close to losing control, and that was not what she had in mind. Instead of riding him to her satisfaction, she lay on his chest and stroked his face and kissed him tenderly, while he held her in his arms.

Michael did his best to regain his self-control. His ragged breath began to slow, but his heart would not stop the pounding that occurred whenever he was this close to Nikita. A quick move and he rolled Nikita under him. He hesitated waiting for her permission.

“Yes,” she breathed in a soft sigh and wrapped her long legs around his waist.

With Nikita’s assent, Michael began thrusting, slow and deep. The lovers began moving in unison, faster and faster, until they experienced a shattering climax that left the two of them weak and still in each others arms.

Nikita’s eyes began to fill with tears, and she began to sob into Michael’s chest.

“Nikita? What it is? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“No, it’s just that a week ago, I thought we’d never be together again like this. I thought that your betrayal was too deep. You, the lies, the manipulations, our times together were what formed the whole of my experience in Section. I hated you and I hated myself for still loving you, and I didn’t know how I could go on without you.”

Michael’s eyes glistened, as he said, “You have been my reason for living for the last four years. Initially, training you was the reason to come in here every day, then I grew to love you and fear for you. Your innocence made me want to live again, if only to protect you. I hated myself for deceiving you. I know I could and ‘should’ have told you, but I was too afraid of losing you if you knew the truth of my situation. After Hector trapped you and you came so close to dying, I said the things you wanted to hear because I couldn’t stop myself. Afterwards, I left because I wanted to complete the Fogherty mission so that we could finally have some kind of relationship that wasn’t a part of the lies generated by Section.”

“I love you, Michael. Heaven help me, but I guess I always will,” Nikita sniffed.

“Je t’aime, Nikita, Je t’aime. I am lost without you.” Michael held Nikita tightly in his arms as they fell asleep, entwined, hearts at peace for once.

**********

The bright morning sunlight streamed through the window and awakened Michael, who was normally an early riser. It was six-thirty, two hours past his usual wake-up time. He lay there and luxuriated in the heady feeling of having Nikita snuggled close to him. He wanted to lie there for the rest of his life and never leave her side, but the cruel reality of their lives would not allow that; and he had to find his son before the child was irretrievably lost to the Machiavellian manipulations of Section One.

He leaned toward Nikita and kissed her on the cheek. Her eyes fluttered and a lazy smile drifted across her face. “Still conflicted?” she asked as she returned his kiss.

“No,” he answered. “But I still have to leave you for a while,” he said as he ran his hand across her shoulder and down her arm. He could feel her shiver in response to his sensual touch.

“I know, you have to find Sean. I wish I could help you,” she murmured.

Michael sat on the side of the bed, “You can. I have two comm sets, like the one I gave you once before. We can communicate from anywhere. Birkoff told me that Operations has had my access reduced to email only for these two weeks. There’s nothing in the data base about Sean, but I might need to have you access it for other intel or communications. Birkoff will help you, if you need him, but I would like to keep him out of this if possible.”

Nikita nodded, “I understand. Can they trace our communications on these comm sets?” she asked.

“They’re encrypted, and Birkoff is the only one right now that could break the code, but if they became suspicious and were to use Hillinger, we would be at risk. I simply have to convince them that I am going to Italy for two weeks.” Michael gave a half smile as he leaned toward her.

“How are you going to do that?” Nikita asked as she began placing little kisses all over his chest and shoulder. Michael’s response was to return the favor.

“By first going to Italy and then disappear,” Michael said in a voice hoarse with emotion, as he buried his face between her breasts and let his tongue trail down her flat abdomen toward her nest of blonde curls.

“Ahhh,” was all Nikita could manage as Michael’s tongue reached its target and initiated its mission to pleasure her beyond her wildest fantasies. Nikita ran her fingers through Michael’s hair, as she reveled in the delicious sensations he created. Her head rolled from side to side as Michael changed positions and with rapid strokes thrust home, bringing her nearly to the brink of orgasm. He then slowed his powerful strokes as Nikita cried, “More. Now.”

“No, not yet my love. I will be away for two weeks, and I want this to last for both of us,” he whispered in her ear. He continued at the slower pace, until Nikita was clawing at his back and demanding completion. All the while, Michael whispered French words of love in her ear. Finally, he said, “Now,” and began thrusting deeper and faster.

“Yes, yes,” Nikita encouraged the new rhythm, with her heels at his buttocks. Michael was at the verge of climax as well, but he intended to see that Nikita received what she desired and deserved before he realized his own pleasure. Michael could see the signs that Nikita was close to flying over the edge. The heat of her body had escalated and a red flush spread over the fair skin of her breasts and neck. Nikita began to sob incoherently for relief, and Michael gave three rapid and deep strokes reaching to her innermost core.

Sensation exploded in waves and swept Nikita away. She felt as if her entire body were convulsing, as Michael continued to thrust. She cried, “Michael, oh, Michael,” although it was difficult to catch her breath.

Michael began to perspire and quiver as his body demanded its own completion. His need for control was abandoned as his more primal needs took command. His climax ripped from his body in strong contractions that left him exhausted and panting, unable even to cry Nikita’s name. He collapsed in her arms and buried his face in her neck as he gasped for air and savored her warmth.

They slept a brief thirty minutes, before waking again. Words were not necessary. The love they held in their hearts, one for the other, shone from their eyes. Aquamarine eyes misted with tears and looked into crystal green ones that were warm with love. Michael took Nikita’s hand and kissed it, a courtly gesture to claim her heart for all time. Nikita swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. The sweetness and tenderness of the moment made the lies and manipulations retreat farther into the past. The future was unknown, but the present was golden.

*********

As Walter calibrated the new explosive detonator, he watched Nikita walk toward his work station. The darkness and depression were missing from her face and attitude. There was an identifiable spring in her step, something that had been missing since she had discovered Michael’s secret cover.

“Hi, Walter,” she said as she gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, Sugar,” he replied with a lecherous grin. “I could be mistaken, but I would swear someone got her tires rotated last night.”

Nikita cut her eyes toward him and gave him a half smile. “You might be right,” she replied in a whisper. “Does it really show?”

Walter thought for a minute before answering, “You might as well have a sign painted on that luminous face of yours, Sugar. Dare I ask who performed this miraculous transformation?”

Nikita averted her eyes, then glanced at him over the top of her gold-rimmed glasses as she gave him a secretive smile and a tiny shake of her head.

“Oh,” Walter said as he nodded. Only one partner could have produced the Nikita he saw before him today. Michael. “So how is Michael?” he asked.

Nikita smiled and whispered, “He’s in a pretty good mood, too, but he left for Italy this morning for some down time.”

“So you two have obviously ‘come to terms?’”

Nikita shrugged, “I’d like to ‘think’ so, but I’ve thought so before and been wrong. I’ll just have to see how things go, when he returns from Italy.”

“So what’s he going to do in Italy, Sugar?” Walter asked, looking over the edge of his glasses at Nikita, as he continued to work on his new device.

“Relax, think, walk on the beach, take in some museums, catch some rays maybe,” Nikita said and grinned at the thought of Michael ‘catching some rays.”

“Yeah, that’s a real image for you,” Walter chuckled. “Listen, Sugar, I’d bridle that contented look, if I were you. No need to let ‘them’ know you’re happy for a change. They’d be bound to do something to remedy it, if you know what I mean.”

“I do know exactly what you mean, and I have a meeting with Madeline in five minutes.” Nikita took a deep breath and attempted a more dignified expression. “How’s this?” she asked.

Walter shook his head. “I can still see it in your eyes, Sugar. Better not keep her waiting.”

**********

Madeline awaited Nikita’s arrival for a private pre-briefing session. The intel she had received earlier that morning was alarming. Moira had contacted two of her other daughters, and one of them had made the mistake of relaying her mother’s whereabouts to a cousin still in Ireland. In other words, the Irish faction of Eire Fein knew the location of Moira Fogherty and her grandson Sean Samuels, and Madeline expected that their reaction would be swift and their retribution terrible.

The door to her office opened, and Nikita entered, wearing an ivory turtle neck sweater that was cropped at the waist and tan cargo pants. Gold-rimmed glasses were pushed to the top of her head and acted as a headband. Her appearance was casual, but neat. Madeline detected an fluid ease in her movements that had been missing. The rigid and dour Nikita of the last month had been banished, and the lighter, brighter version now sat in front of Madeline, with a face that was flushed with health and joie de vivre.

“You’re five minutes late, Nikita. This is--” Madeline started in an effort to establish her dominance over the younger operative.

“Not by my watch,” Nikita interrupted. “Besides, it couldn’t be avoided.”

“Punctuality is crucial, and this mission is urgent. I am sending you to retrieve Moira Fogherty and Sean. She has had inappropriate communications with her family, and Eire Fein has been notified of her whereabouts. We have to get there first.” Madeline went through the motions of offering Nikita tea, but it was declined with a negative shake of the head..

“And if we don’t.”

“That is not an option. If we lose Sean, we lose Michael. Michael has experienced more in the way of loss than anyone here in Section and managed to survive, but I am afraid he would not want to survive the loss of his son. Michael is too valuable to Section, therefore his son’s rescue is of immeasurable value to Section.

“What about Moira Fogherty?” Nikita asked.

Madeline’s only response was a blank stare, for as far as she was concerned, Moira Fogherty could rot. Madeline had taken Michael’s earlier threat seriously and was now forced to mount a costly mission to bring the child to Section’s level five for buffered hostiles.

“What’s going to happen after we bring him back, Madeline? Is Section going to keep a four year old boy locked away in one room for how long?”

“That’s not your concern, Nikita. Your formal briefing is in five minutes.” Madeline looked at Nikita with a gesture of dismissal.

Nikita rose to leave, but was stopped by Madeline’s question, “Did Michael catch his plane for Italy this morning?”

“How would I know?” she bluffed.

Madeline gave her a genuine smile. “I would have assumed after his having spent the night with you and your having had intimate relations at least twice, that you would have the intel on that particular piece of information.”

Nikita was never surprised when Madeline knew the most intimate details of her life. The damn cameras must be back, but they would have to wait, she thought.

“Well, Madeline, to answer your question. Yes, Michael did make his plane to Italy. Is there anything else you would like to know? Like ‘why’ I was 5 minutes late?” Nikita challenged.

Madeline smiled. “The reason for your tardiness was obvious on the surveillance tape and uh-perfectly understandable.”

Nikita could not resist a parting shot. “Is that how you get yours, Madeline? Watching Michael and me?” Nikita tossed her hair and left without waiting for a response, but if she had waited, she would have seen the smile fade from Madeline’s face.

*********

Michael shut his eyes as he reclined in his comfortable first class seat and flew to Rome, Italy on a 757 jet. The hours en flight would enable him to resume the unceasing introspection that had been a part of his life for years. So much had happened in the last couple of months, and he felt he would be forever marked by the experiences. He had nearly died, and the near death experience that had resulted from his poisoning had, of necessity, been shoved to the back realm of his psyche; however, he now had five hours to himself with no pending missions to consider. Instead, he began to consider the sense of personal mission he had initially felt, when he had first regained consciousness.

In one aspect, it had been a reprieve from the negativity that had tormented his inner life. The idea that his life had a purpose and had ‘always’ had a purpose was new to him. Since being recruited, he had accepted that Section One’s purpose was his own, but the intelligent entity with whom he had communed during his near death experience had impressed upon him the idea that he was more than the sum of his parts and that he, Michael, could make a difference in the world he knew and the rest of the world would benefit.

Michael nearly moaned aloud as he thought how dismally he had betrayed that principle. He thought of Nikita, his son Sean, his late wife Stephanie and himself. In trying to end the betrayals, he had succeeded only in watching his wife murdered in front on his eyes. It was too late for her, and Michael could never change that she had been a part of a mission and not his true love. His son had been whisked away by Section One, but Michael vowed to himself that he would recover him and save him from Section.

He knew it was his undeserved good fortune that, somehow, Nikita had been able to forgive him for the lies of omission and betrayal. He would never have expected her to continue love him after discovering the truth about his second life. He knew he deserved her hatred and disgust, and he had accepted her anger as his due. Nikita, who was synonymous with light and hope, had apologized to ‘him,’ when he should have been groveling at ‘her’ feet, begging for forgiveness. There was no one to compare to Nikita, at least there never had been in his life.

Simone had been his first mature love, and with the memories of the hot and tender lover she had been, she would always occupy a special place in his heart, but the regrets existed there too. She had preferred revenge and death to life with him. Michael had experienced so many losses and to attempt to rationalize them by telling himself, that there was a purpose to his life and losses was a difficult feat.

Nikita redeemed him and made him, if not whole, a more integrated being, and she had begun the difficult task of reweaving the disparate halves of his soul. Michael sighed, closed his eyes; and as the calming thoughts of Nikita continued to wash through his mind, he fell asleep.

*********

As she headed toward the official briefing, Nikita felt the sharp irony of her being apprised of Michael’s son’s whereabouts, while he had been kept in the dark. Madeline’s apparent knowledge of their ‘intimate relations’ the previous night also told Nikita that Madeline also knew about Michael’s plan to find Sean and flee Section One, and that he had asked her to join him. Yet, Madeline still had assigned her to bring Sean into the Section One confines. Nikita wondered if the imminent danger of Eire Fein finding Moira and Sean was real or a red herring. At any rate the result would be the same, Sean would remain under Section One’s control and so would Michael.

Madeline would have also heard Michael mention the comm device that he had given her ‘once before.’ If Madeline had not known how Nikita escaped from the Freedom League conflagration, she did now. Whether Madeline would share that intel with Operations, Nikita did not know, nor how Madeline would use the intel on her own. In Section One, knowledge was power, and Madeline had more knowledge than Nikita could comprehend comfortably.

What a dilemma, she thought. In less than five minutes I will know exactly where Sean is, but if I share that knowledge with Michael, and he is able to mount his own successful rescue, Section will likely be waiting and cancel him.

Nikita arrived at the briefing area as she tried to mask any obvious signs of conflict Operations arrived a moment later, and within two minutes the remainder of the team was assembled.

Operations did not waste any time before starting the briefing. A picture of Moira Fogherty flashed on the Vid Comm screen. “This is Moira Fogherty, the sister-in-law of a deceased high-ranking member of Eire Fein. She had been relocated by us, along with her young grandson to Phoenix, Arizona. She has, however, communicated with members of her family, who have inadvertently shared that information with remaining members of Eire Fein in Northern Ireland. She is deemed a traitor by them and forfeit, along with the child. She is remains a source of valuable intel on Eire Fein and therefore still valuable to Section One. She and the grandchild are to be retrieved and returned to Section One for a complete debriefing, then Eire Fein can do what they will.

Nikita did not like the sound of the mission objectives. “What about the grandchild? Is he going to be turned over to Eire Fein?”

“The child’s disposition will be determined at a later time, when we have the luxury of deliberation. It is essential that Moira Fogherty be retrieved as soon as possible.”

Nikita knew Operations was overstating Moira’s importance in order to conceal the true objective of the mission to retrieve Michael’s son and knew without being told that Section One considered Moira Fogherty as acceptable collateral.

“Nikita will act as team leader on this mission. The profiler is already working on the mission profile. Since time is of the essence, I have already picked the team. Your PDA’s will have the intel downloaded in approximately two hours. Departure in three hours. Any questions?”

Nikita spoke, “I would prefer to see the profile before the team is picked. This is very irregular.”

Operations took a puff on his cigarette before answering. “This situation is irregular. The profile and team will stand as chosen, Nikita, unless you want to step down as team leader?”

Nikita gave an abrupt shake of her head. “No, that’s fine. No problem.”

Nikita looked at her team. There wasn’t a single operative from the previous Eire Fein mission present, and she wondered if the usually efficient Section grapevine had done its usual thing, and if everyone knew that Michael was the father of the child. Williams, Brady, Li, Tyler, and Renault returned her appraisal. “Final briefing will take place en flight. See you at egress in three hours.” Nikita spun on her heel and left the area.

Operations smiled. He appreciated her brevity and her unwillingness to step down as team leader. Michael had been correct about her. She was a good operative, and she was getting better. The question now would be, what would she do? As always, Section tested its best and brightest, and it tested them without mercy.

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

Michael blinked his eyes and reached for his sunglasses as he exited the large international jet into the jetway. He had emailed his old friend and fellow Class Five operative, Sylvia Damico to meet him, for he would need her local resources, if he was to deceive Section One into thinking he remained in Rome for his two weeks of down time.

There was the small matter of his cesium crystal to be extracted, along with need to escape Section’s constant surveillance.

The gamine Sylvia was waving at him as he exited the jetway into Rome International Airport. Sylvia had always reminded him of Simone. The two women had been approximately the same height and had the same build. Only Simone’s oriental features and Sylvia’s curly hair had made them distinguishable from the front. Both women had been petite and of deceptive strength and skills. It was one of their characteristics that had made them such deadly operatives. They were often underestimated by their targets.

Michael threw his arms around Sylvia and kissed both her cheeks. His Italian was flawless as he greeted her, “Ciao! Comme va, Sylvia?”

“It’s wonderful to see you, Michael. How’s your lovely Nikita?” Sylvia asked as she returned his hug with one of her own. Sylvia had met Nikita during a recent summons to Section One, during the C5 assassinations.

“Nikita is fine. How’s your love life?” Michael asked as they continued toward the baggage carousel, remembering that Sylvia had recently ended a relationship before her summons to Section One.

Sylvia’s dark complexion flushed as she answered. “Better than the last time we discussed it.”

Michael smiled at her and teased, “I knew you wouldn’t be chaste for very long. It’s not in your nature is it? Who is she?”

Sylvia struggled to keep up with Michael’s graceful stride. “Oh, God, Michael. Would you believe she’s my new material? After all your troubles, here I am falling into the same trap. She’s even tall and blonde like Nikita, and I am hopelessly smitten.”

“No, Sylvia.” Michael shook his head in disbelief, but he knew that the heart was not inclined to listen to the head. “Does she know? Have you....?” he paused delicately.

“No, Michael! I said I was smitten, not stupid. Sorry, no offense,” she giggled. She’s in her second year of training. Her mentor Antonio was killed on a mission last month, and she was transferred to me to complete her evaluation. I’ve been very careful not to let my feelings show, but I don’t have the long years of practice at that the way you do, Michael. Besides, I think she’s interested in me as well, but scared. I know I am.”

They had reached the baggage carousel by the time Sylvia had finished her admission. Michael slung his one bag over his shoulder, and they continued to catch the shuttle to Sylvia’s car. “As you are well aware, I’m no one to give advice, but be careful,” Michael said with a rueful smile.

“I know. I know. Relationships between cold ops. are discouraged, but any relationship is fraught with difficulty. You know that. I’ve had them both ways, and so have you.” Sylvia tossed her short dark curls as they entered the parking shuttle.

Sylvia’s words reminded Michael of Stephanie, and Michael lost his smile. “We have to talk, but not now or here. I have a lot to tell you,” he said as he looked around the crowded shuttle.

“Trouble in Nikita-land? I thought you said she was fine.”

“Nikita is fine-now, but there have been complications that you don’t know about. It’s been a difficult month and a half.” Michael refused to say any more. Sylvia nodded, respecting his need for privacy.

**********

“The mission profile, finally!” Nikita declared to the air, as she hurriedly read the intel. Phoenix, Arizona, she already knew, but the address was only now being released: 3435 Los Palmas Avenue. The .JPG of a small tract house downloaded into Nikita’s PDA. It was an attractive stucco with nice landscaping that included a tall palm tree and several smaller ones. There were probably a hundred more like it. How the Hades was Section One going to mount a rescue mission in a crowded subdivision like this one without attracting notice and having to cancel half the neighborhood, she asked herself as the remainder of the intel loaded on her PDA. Nikita hated it when a profile was simply dumped in her lap without any opportunity for her own input.

What she was going to do about Michael was an even bigger problem. The mission was only one hour from egress, and Michael was hours away in Italy. The irony of the situation continued to plague her. Nikita was more convinced than ever that the ‘mission’ was in response to Madeline’s surveillance of her apartment the night before. Eire Fein’s involvement was more than likely a cover to retrieve the child and to prevent Michael from finding his son and disappearing from Section One’s control.

Nikita considered that the flying time to Phoenix, AZ. was approximately four hours, that plus time to reach the target. Nikita did not think that Michael would still have enough time to fly back from Rome and mount his own rescue. It was an impossible situation. Should she tell him at all? She had to make a decision quickly, and she hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

* * *

Moira Fogherty adjusted the blinds to obstruct the hot Arizona sunlight. She hated the heat, the light and the sand, and tried to keep the house as cool and dark as possible. There were dozens of children in the Southside Mountain View subdivision, but Moira preferred to keep Sean inside and away from the their noisy influence. She knew that little Sean had changed since losing his mother and despicable father. He, too, preferred to stay inside, but Moira did not seem to understand that while he needed the love and comfort of his grandmother, he also needed to be around other children. Moira had used the young boy as a means of comfort for herself, while she vented her hatred of his father.

“Mommeeee! Daddeeee!” came the wail from Sean’s bedroom, and it told Moira that he was having another nightmare. He had suffered from them since the loss of his parents. She rushed to the bedroom where he napped and gathered the small boy into her arms and rocked him.

“Shh. Now, now. Nana is here,” she whispered as the tears streamed down her face. How she hated Michael for his deceptions and held him responsible for Stephanie’s death.

“I want my Mommy and Daddy, Nana. Why won’t they come home? Why did we move here? They can’t find me,” Sean sobbed.

“Your Mommy can’t come home, Sean. She’s gone to Heaven to be with all other pretty angels. She’s watching you, and she would want you to be a good boy and not cry.”

“What about Daddy? Is he in Heaven with Mommy?”

Moira’s mouth grew grim as she answered, “No, darlin’ your daddy was a bad man, and he’s gone to the bad place. Darlin’ Sean, your daddy was a bad, bad man. He’s the reason your Mommy went to Heaven and can’t be with you anymore.”

Sean sobbed even louder. “Bad Daddy, bad, bad Daddy! I hate my Daddy.!”

The previous image of a loving father began to retreat as Sean came to believe the hatred that his grandmother had fed him daily, and Michael became synonymous with evil in Sean’s childlike mind and a fearsome figure in his night terrors.

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

Although time was short, Nikita knew only one person could be trusted to keep her dilemma to himself and would be realistic and honest in his assessment. That person was Walter, and Nikita rushed to Munitions where he was currently issuing the weaponry to be used on the imminent Phoenix mission.

Walter’s mood was harried, and he gave her an irritated, “I could use a little more time to get this stuff together, Sugar!” Walter handed the last of the inventory to Xiang Li, who gave him a brief smile, raised her eyebrows at Nikita and left them alone.

Nikita looked around to see if anyone could hear them. “I have a problem, Walter.”

“You sure do. Your mission leaves in less than an hour, and you’re here in my way big time. You think these missions just happen all by themselves? I’ve still got a ton of equipment to load.”

Nikita’s face assumed a devastated expression. “Walter, I need your advise. This is serious!”

The pleading tone in Nikita’s voice made Walter look at her. “Okay, Sugar, what is it?”

“You know this mission is to retrieve Moira Fogherty and Michael’s son Sean. Michael is in Italy scheming a way to find Sean and leave Section to disappear with him. Now, here I am with the intel he needs on a mission to do the opposite of what Michael wants for Sean. I can contact him, but there isn’t time for him to do anything.”

Walter shook his head, “And you want to know whether to tell Michael or not?”

Nikita nodded, “Yes, but Madeline is aware of Michael’s plan. She had us under surveillance last night, and I think this mission is her way of circumventing his plan. I don’t know if Eire Fein is really a factor, or not. If they really are on Moira’s and Sean’s trail, it could get really dicey, but if both Michael and Eire Fein show up, there’ll be a blood bath. Walter, I don’t want anything to happen to that little boy. He’s had hard enough time, but to be brought here to Section, I wouldn’t wish that on any child.”

“You don’t have any good choices on this one, do you, Sugar?”

An agonized, “No,” escaped from Nikita’s mouth.

*********

Sylvia took Michael to a small pensione off the highly traveled tourist areas. After he checked the room for surveillance apparatus, Michael spent an hour describing his long-term deep cover mission, his marriage, his son, Nikita discovering it, and Stephanie’s subsequent death.

“Michael, my God, what you’ve been through! Nikita--how did she take it?”

Michael gave a rueful smile. “Nikita did not take it well, initially, but we have come to another understanding of sorts.”

Sylvia gave Michael a wide grin, “I guess that means you had great makeup-sex.”

Michael responded with a soft, “Yes.”

“So why are you here, Michael and not with Nikita? What’s really going on?”

Michael sighed, “Ostensibly, I am here for a vacation. Madeline told Operations that I needed some downtime to pull myself together; however, Section has relocated Sean with his grandmother, so I’m going to find him and disappear. There is the matter of my cesium crystal. I need to have it removed and left here in Italy, which will leave me free to search for Sean.”

Sylvia shook her head, “You’ll never get away with it, Michael. Do you even know where he is??

“No. but once I am free of the crystal, I will be free to move around. I have resources. I will find him.”

“I think you are insane, but I will do what I can. What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“First, help me find it.”

Sylvia agreed with a hesitant, “Okay.”

Michael removed his shirt and contorted his body in an attempt to see his right upper flank. “Can you see it or feel it, Sylvia?”

Sylvia ran her hands over Michael’s well-muscled back, first lightly then firmly trying to find the exact location of Michael’s cesium crystal implant. “They never put them in the same place, Michael. Maybe it’s somewhere else? I can’t feel a thing.”

“It has to be in my back somewhere. They always use a spot that is nearly impossible to find on one’s own. The upper flank is the most common location. I’ve been injected so many times for inoculations and injuries, that it could have been implanted anytime in the last fourteen years.”

Sylvia continued her careful examination of his back, going over each muscle group again. She had not known of the existence of the ‘clocks’ until her promotion to Class Five status earlier in the year.

“Press harder. It has to be there,” Michael insisted.

Sylvia renewed her efforts, as she manipulated each powerful muscle in his back, until Michael reacted as she gave a deep prod to his right latissimus dorsi muscle. “That must be it, Michael, but it’s deep. How do you propose to get the damn this out of there?”

Michael turned and gave her a blank stare.

Sylvia began to pace in an agitated manner and wave her hands in the air. “Oh, no, Michael. I can’t do that. You need a doctor. It’s too deep,” she protested.

Michael stepped in front of her and placed both hands on her shoulders as he said, “I’d do it myself, if I could reach it, but I can’t, so you have to help me, Sylvia. I have to find Sean, and Section will know if I leave Italy, unless you remove it ‘for’ me.”

Sylvia’s brown eyes grew wide, as she realized Michael was ‘serious.’ “What will we use, Michael, a Swiss Army knife?”

Michael’s green eyes twinkled, “No, I came prepared.”

“Of course you did,” Sylvia said in an exasperated tone as she rolled her eyes.

Michael removed a small black leather satchel from his luggage. He opened it, so that she could see that it contained two scalpels, syringes, Xylocaine, suture material and needle holder.

Sylvia’s eyes grew wider as she looked at the array of unfamiliar medical equipment. “Shit! Michael, I don’t know how to use this stuff.”

Michael gave her a tiny smile. “It’s really pretty simple, and it’s time you learned. It’s not anymore difficult than sewing a seam or two, same principle.”

“Michael! I didn’t exactly excel in the ‘Domestic Sciences’. I had other things on my mind!” Sylvia’s Italian grew rapid and full of very colorful colloquialisms and epithets.

Michael laughed outwardly, but cringed internally. This was not going to be a picnic for either one of them.

**********

Michael adjusted the light, donned latex gloves and, with careful attention to sterile technique, arranged the instruments in the order that Sylvia would need them. Sylvia stood there aghast, shaking her head, “No, no, no.”

Michael sighed in exasperation, “Gloves, Sylvia, put on the gloves.”

Sylvia continued to shake her head and gesticulate with her hands, “No, I can’t do this.”

“There is no one else. You have to help me,” he said in a soft, but firm tone.

“Blood makes me sick, Michael. I hate the sight of blood,” she protested. “I can’t bear the thought of cutting into muscles and fat,” she shuddered.

“I don’t have ‘much’ fat, Sylvia,” Michael said. “Besides, what kind of operative gets sick at the sight of blood? You’re a class five op., Sylvia. You’ve seen blood before. You’ve done first aid before. You can do this.” Michael spoke slowly and calmly like a kindergarten teacher would to an unruly child, but his words and tone did not have the desired effect.

“Michael, this is different!” she continued to protest while wringing her hands. Perspiration began to bead her brow, and her knees grew weak.

“How is it different?”

“Because it’s you, Michael. You’re my friend. I can’t explain it in words. I just know how I feel inside, and I think I’m going to vomit!” Sylvia ran for the small bathroom, hung her head over the commode and began to retch. Michael followed her.

“Go away, Michael!” she yelled between heaves.

“I just wanted to help.”

“I don’t need any help. I can vomit all by myself.”

* * *

Sylvia returned from the bathroom and wiped her face with a cold wet cloth. “All right, let’s do it, while I can still stand.”

Michael gave her a tentative but encouraging smile and lay down on the bed. “Thank you.”

Sylvia sniffed, “That remains to be seen.”

Sylvia donned the latex gloves and began to wash Michael’s back with the Betadine solution he had provided. After removing the excess solution, Michael began to talk her through the procedure.

“First, deaden the skin with the Xylocaine. It’s going to be a pretty big area. Do you know how to use the syringe?” he asked.

“Yes, I do know that much.”

“After waiting five minutes after the last injection, pickup the scalpel. The muscle runs diagonally in that area, so cut on the diagonal, starting at the upper right hand corner, going down toward the left side. A two inch incision should do it. Cut through the skin first, blot the blood with the gauze squares, then through the fatty layer. Continue to blot the blood with the gauze. When you get to the red muscle layer, feel with your fingers to determine how deep you will have to go in order to reach the cesium crystal. If you need more room to maneuver, lengthen the incision a bit.’

Michael winced as Sylvia made the multiple injections necessary to deaden the operative area. Normally a stoic patient, Michael was as tense as Sylvia was. The injections went well, and soon it was time for the first cut. Michael and Sylvia both held their breath for a moment, as she followed his instructions.

For fifteen minutes, Sylvia cut through the layers of the skin, fatty tissue and muscle. Perspiration was again beading on her forehead.

Michael asked, “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Michael, just fine.”

“Are we there yet?” he asked, sounding exactly like a child on a trip.

“Yes, I’ve reached the muscle layer, and I’m trying to find the crystal. I think it’s only a little deeper. Is the anesthetic holding?” she asked as she prodded the incision.

“Yes, just hurry.”

“Look, don’t get impatient on me. You’re the one that wanted ‘me’ to do this.

“Sorry.”

Sylvia continued, until she exclaimed, “Got it!” as she extracted the implant with a tweezer-like instrument.

Michael breathed a sigh of genuine relief. “Now all you have to do is, suture it together, muscle to muscle, fat to fat, and skin to skin. Simple, No? Use the catgut sutures for the muscle and fat, and the silk for the skin. They’re labeled on the packages.”

“This is not going to look too pretty, Michael.”

“Don’t’ worry how it looks, just do it--the best way you can.”

Another thirty minutes and Sylvia was tying off the last knot. Michael’s PDA chimed. Sylvia gave a questioning look at Michael, as she slapped a dressing over the fresh incision.

“It’s Nikita,” he said with a smile.

“Good, you talk to her, and I’ll have a nice quiet breakdown over here in this chair,” Sylvia said as she removed the gloves and collapsed in an overstuffed easy chair.

Michael picked up the PDA and saw the initial terse message:

Have location on Sean.

Eire Fein has it too.

Imminent mission to retrieve them.

No time. Don’t interfere!

Michael messaged to Nikita:

WHERE?

Nikita’s response:

Phoenix, Arizona.

Mission leaving in 25 min.

Don’t interfere!

Under surveillance last night

Madeline aware of your plan!

Stay where you are.

Michael’s response:

GIVE ME THE ADDRESS!

Nikita’s response:

No.

There will have to be

Another time and way.

Not now

Michael’s response:

GIVE ME THE ADDRESS!

Nikita’s response:

No. I have to go now.

“Merde! No, Nikita,” he screamed in frustration as he threw the PDA across the room.

Sylvia turned white at Michael’s reaction. “What’s happened?”

“I have to go back. Section has mounted a mission to retrieve my son and his grandmother. Eire Fein is after them as well. Section is going to make him a prisoner. I have to stop them.”

**********

It was fall in Arizona, but the sun was hot, and the temperature was in the low 90’s. Inside the Section van, the air conditioner was struggling to keep up with the requirements of six individuals dressed in Coit Cleaning Services uniforms on the top of black mission gear. There was similar signage that said “Coit” on the side of the no-longer-gray mission van.

Birkoff, with Madeline as backup, was running tactical from Section One. Nikita began her final briefing as the van neared the 3435 Las Palmas address, “We need to get in and out as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing we want is a fire fight with Eire Fein or the local authorities. Moira Fogherty and the child are to be retrieved as calmly as possible. Li, you and I will take the child. Brady and Williams will be responsible for Mrs. Fogherty. Tyler and Renault act as backup and lookout for Eire Fein. I want two pulses if there are any external anomalies. Got it?”

The five operatives nodded and made last minute adjustments to their gear. Nikita wiped the perspiration from her brow and vowed she’d never come to Phoenix again, if her life depended on it.

Her last contact with Michael via PDA comm unit had been as troubling as she had expected it would be. She had compromised by telling him of the mission, but refused to give him enough data to interfere. Surely, by the time she saw him again, he would have calmed down and come to realize that she had made the wisest choice. Being in Section meant making difficult choices, and Michael had made a few in his time.

Birkoff’s voice came through Nikita’s comm unit, “You’re only a block away, Nikita, and you are to approach from the rear alley. Reconnaissance shows that the back yard has a high privacy fence with a gate that leads to the alley. Is my feed okay, Nikita?”

“Fine, Birkoff. We’re scanning the house now, any sign of anyone besides our targets?”

“No, Nikita. There are only two warm bodies inside the house. Both are in the living room. Should be a piece of cake,” he said as he calmly pulled an Oreo from a new bag.

Nikita shuddered, “Thanks for the jinx, Birkoff.” The van drove past the front of the house down to the end of the block, turned left, then left again into the alley behind the row of small, but neat houses. The entire neighborhood appeared peaceful and quiet, and Nikita hoped that appearances were not deceiving. “No signs of Eire Fein, Birkoff. We will proceed as planned.” Nikita took a deep breath to calm her already adrenaline-induced high. Showtime, she thought.

********

Computer access, except for email had been denied to Michael. Sylvia’s Class 5 access found that anything related to the Phoenix mission also ‘DENIED.’ Both Michael’s and Sylvia’s attempts to find a location on his son had been a study in frustration and a waste of time. Michael knew the mission would be over by the time he reached the states. He also knew that lacking computer access, he was helpless, and the lack of control ate at him, as it always did. The thought of his son in the hands of Eire Fein or Section One were equally appalling. Granted, his son was already under the power of Section; but Michael felt he had been so close to changing the situation, that he felt the familiar bitter emotion of hatred overtake him--hatred of Section, Operations and not the least of Madeline.

By combing their ‘resources’ the best Michael and Sylvia could do was snag him a flight on an outgoing fighter jet that was returning to the states to be reconditioned. His security clearance and flight experience in that particular model ensured that no questions would be asked. He would still arrive hours too late.