Pay backs are hell. I guess Michael knows that by now. From the first moment he threw me on my butt in the White Room, I acknowledged his power over me. His exotic face, inches from mine, his instructions to always 'go for the kidneys' left me breathless and turned on. It was a damn long three and a half years before that arousal was gratified. At the time, I just wanted to survive.

But by the time Michael met me on that grungy ship and screwed me nearly senseless, I knew the score. I already had my end game in place. While Michael craved control and expected to have power one day, whenever Operations conveniently stepped aside, I craved power and freedom--well, relative freedom, anyway. That was the reason I forged an alliance with Mick Shtoppel, or Mr. Jones as we now call him. That and the fact Mick threatened to turn me back over to Section One, if I didn't work for him. So it boiled down to this: go back to Section One as a mole for Centre or go back as a White Room candidate. Some choice, huh?

Most of those six months I spent in relative isolation in advanced training at Centre--the most sophisticated intelligence gathering techniques. I even had access to surveillance modules that would've made old Mother Adrian soak her Depends, if she'd had anything like them.

And I absolutely loved the idea of one-upping Madeline. I didn't want her to off herself, but that was her choice. She always was a little on the dramatic side. She actually had me pegged, early on. The lust for power was in my blood. And it was stronger than any need I might've had for Michael.

As for Michael, I never forgave him for that first mission outside. That night I made up my mind, I would control him, bend him to my will. And I think I can truthfully say, I did.

It took time, too much time, but he was a pleasant diversion.

All right, I know I'm not fooling anyone when I say that. Sex with Michael became a drug. The more I had, the more I wanted. Funny how that works. I was the envy of every female op in Section One--long before we ever made the two-backed beast. Everyone just assumed Michael was doing me, so I let'em think it. Good for a girl's ego, y'know?

The one thing about Michael was: I knew he wanted me, even more than I wanted him, but I had a hell of a time getting him in my bed. Well, duh! When I waltzed up on his porch and found him at home with the wife and kid, I nearly shit a brick. Good thing I was well-trained or I would have blown the whole deal, right then and there.

Plus, I needed him. Operations and Madeline were into their 'let's get rid of the blonde bimbo' mode, and I needed his help, again. So, I put on my best face and acted act mature. But finding out about Michael's family told me that Michael cared more about me than I'd thought. I mean, if all he wanted from me was a good fu**, he could've that any time. Therefore, this blonde figured out Michael had feelings for her, and his highly refined--and wasted--sense of honor, kept him from taking advantage of what I was willing to give him anytime . . . anywhere.

But all I had to do was bide my time, wait for the Vacek mission to end, and he would be mine. When I found him weeping into his cello, I wanted to give him a swift kick, but instead, I was noble and offered him my support and friendship, instead. He bought it, too.

And it pleased me no end.

I wanted to tell him, "Get over it!" but I restrained myself. After all, it wouldn't do me any good, if Michael were killed before I could deliver my coup de grace. Just think about it!

The over-emotional Nikita, the problem child of Section One would be in charge of evaluating everyone.

Now, don't get the idea that I'm just a hard-hearted bitch, who only cared for herself. Well, even if it's basically the truth. I learned to survive on the streets. Section One was just another adventure in survival. I mean I do have a couple of soft spots: kids and Walter. Even if Walter had no idea who the hell I was, he loved the image I created for him. It felt good to have the crusty old fella as my buddy. Besides, he was handy whenever I needed the extra weapon or whatever. As for kids, I don't know why I care so much about keeping them safe. Maybe I still remember what it was like being on the fringe of existence with my mother. Most kids haven't hurt anyone yet, so they don't deserve to be hurt, right?

Enough with the sentimental crap, back to Michael.

This man, Section's top operative, gave it all up to run off with me. What a joke! Where was his brain? Yeah, I know where his brain was--between my legs every chance he had. Then Madeline started messing with his head, demoting him because of us. What a wuss! I couldn't believe it. There's absolutely no doubt in my mind, if I hadn't "given him up," he wouldn't have been able to get it up. Now, what good would that do me? Hmm? I mean I was fond of Michael. He wasn't a whole lot of trouble. Y'know he didn't talk much. He didn't leave his dirty socks lying around. He certainly knew his way around the kitchen. And most important, he could fu** my brains out all night long. Oh yeah, and he covered my skinny ass many a time with Operations--at the expense of his.

I know I could've told him what I was up to, but there were plenty of times he could've told me things, too--like when he sent me off on a suicide mission! A lousy ten second warning is all he gave me.

So, I played the game the way he did. If he got his Frenchi-fied feelings hurt in the end, too bad. I never intended to cancel him. I'm sure he thinks I let him go because I loved him. But I didn't. What it came down to it, I felt guilty. Pure and simple, my conscience got the best of me. Besides, there was a little boy out there that deserved a Dad. If I know Michael, he'll turn heaven and hell upside down to find him . . . and Elena, too, I guess.

Man! I'd love to be a fly on the wall when she finds out Michael's not dead. She might kill him herself. Nah! She was too besotted with her precious Michael. Let's face it, he's pretty good when it comes to persuading women to see things his way. Damn good! I have to give him credit. He is a brilliant operative. He even guessed when I disguised myself as Quinn. Maybe it was those pheromones. If he could've kept his focus, he would've been the next Operations, but he had an unfortunate weakness. I smile as I say it--me.

I still don't know why I was framed and brought into Section One, but I will find out. No one will stop me. For now, I've accomplished more than one personal mission: knocking Michael off his pedestal and rubbing Operations's nose in his own pee-pee (figuratively, of course). I've brought all the weaknesses of Section One into the spotlight. What happens after this, who knows?

completed 1/3/01

Send suggestions and comments to MNreign click HERE.