The door swished open and Operations strode into Madeline's office as if he owned it. She could see from the tightness of his jaw and the hardness around his eyes that he was not pleased with the proposed mission profile that she had sent him. She had not really expected him to be pleased; sometimes there were no good choices, only hard ones. She put the tea cup from which she had been sipping on its saucer and sat both on her desk. She swiveled away from her computer screen to face him. She noted that he had chosen not to sit but rather stood looking at her, restless hands stuffed into pockets to still them. She waited patiently for him to speak first.

"Is that the best you could come up with, send our best operative on what is essentially a suicide mission at a time when Section is already trying to cope with not having enough qualified team leaders? Why not someone from the abeyance pool?" Ops asked this knowing that if any other option were available, Madeline would have found it.

"No one in abeyance has the necessary skills needed to complete the total mission profile. Neither do any of the other operatives that we have available. Only Michael has the technical and other abilities that would maximize the possibility of success. He is also the only one available that I believe would have any chance of surviving."

"A chance of surviving? I reviewed the sims, the chance of surviving is less than three percent" Ops countered.

"A small chance, but still a chance" Madeline continued coolly.

Ops finally shrugged. He had known that there was no other alternative before he had even started the exchange.

Seeing his acquiescence, Madeline decided to inform Section's leader of her concerns. "There are some other factors of which you should be aware" she started slowly, testing his response. "Michael has had a very difficult year, perhaps his most difficult since the original incident with Glass Curtain and Simone. Since the episode with Rene, he has become more withdrawn and has been isolating himself more than his norm. I even suspect that his nightmares have intensified. He appears to have lost some weight and his reaction time on training sims has decreased on average by one point three five seconds."

"Are you saying that you don't believe that he's fit for the mission?" Ops asked.

"Not at all, he's still the only acceptable choice for the mission. I'm just alerting you to possibilities." Michael would do his very best to complete the mission, anything else would be unacceptable to him, but caring if he survived after its completion was another matter. She left this unsaid but her meaning was clearly understood.

"If we sent someone with him, someone whose survival depended on his? Would his sense of responsibility be sufficient to sway the odds?"

"Perhaps, but then the risk would be for two agents instead of one and he would recognize the manipulation for what it is, however, he usually does know when he is being manipulated."

Ops thought only briefly "should we send Nikita with him?"

Madeline tilted her head thoughtfully "Perhaps."

"The final profile hasn't been established, Michael will help you develop it."

"Of course, his active participation will make him more invested in the outcome" Madeline agreed.

"If nullifying Red Cell were not so important, I wouldn't even consider this plan given the current status of our operatives."

"We do what we must, we are all expendable" she reminded him.

His face slightly softened and his voice became more intimate "I don't consider everyone equally expendable."

Madeline recognized Ops' intent but it was not a subject with which she was currently prepared to deal. She tilted her head, smiling slightly but turned away and back to her monitor. She knew she was giving him conflicting messages and that was exactly her intent.

After he had left, she picked up her phone "Michael, come to my office."

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

Nikita fumbled with her grocery bags and her keys, finally getting the correct key in the lock and turning it, unlocking the door to her apartment. Turning the knob, she then redistributed her bags and pushed the door open with her back. It wasn't until she was standing inside that she became aware of someone standing at the door to her balcony. He didn't look at her. He continued staring out at nothing. His hair was slightly wild as if he had not taken his usual care in combing it behind his ears. His body was ramrod straight in his long black trench coat. His hands were curled into fists and this was the only thing that betrayed his tension. Only someone who knew him well would have detected this minute clue to his emotional state. Nikita, who should have known him well, seemed oblivious to it.

She kicked her door shut, perhaps more forcefully than she intended. She carried her groceries over to the counter and set them down heavily. "Please, come in and make yourself at home" she said sarcastically.

Michael ignored her words. "What did you tell Madeline?" he said so softly that she wasn't sure she understood what he was asking. Nikita walked around the counter toward him.

"What?" she asked, only now starting to truly see him.

He didn't turn toward her. In fact, he didn't seem to want to look at her. "What did you tell Madeline about when you shot Rene" he repeated just as quietly.

"I told her that when I arrived, Rene had a gun pointed at you and I shot him" Nikita said suspiciously. "Why?"

He still didn't look at her and his hands had not relaxed. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all that I said. What's going on, Michael?"

Michael took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to relax his hands and control his anger. Believing Nikita, he finally turned to look at her. By the time he did, his features were composed. "Madeline thinks that I may be unstable" he said flatly.

"Unstable?"

Michael blinked rapidly several times before explaining. "Suicidal."

"Madeline said this?" Nikita asked.

"With Madeline, what she doesn't say is often more important than what she does. That is why I wanted to know what you had told her."

Nikita walked toward him, slowly shaking her head. She recalled the scene so clearly. Rene holding the gun to Michael's head and Michael doing nothing, just accepting death at Rene's hands. She could still hear his words after she shot Rene *you should have let him.* He had seemed close to tears as he leaned over Rene and gently closed his sightless eyes. It was only the second time she had seen him so distraught, the first being when Simone had chosen to destroy her tormentor, the leader of Glass Curtain, and herself. Michael had been forced to let her die in the explosion. "I didn't say anything else Michael, I swear I didn't."

Having gotten the answer that he came for, Michael headed toward the door. Nikita stepped in front of him to stop him. He looked intently at her mouth and then her eyes. "Are you?" she asked him gently. "Do you want to die?"

Does she not know me at all, he thought. He stepped around her and continued to the door. He stopped when he got there but did not turn to her. "Madeline will call you for a briefing tomorrow. Find a reason that you can not go on the mission, a sudden illness, an injury, just make it believable."

"Why?"

"I won't let you be my weakness, Nikita. Find a way to refuse the mission." Michael then left without a backward glance.

Nikita hugged herself, uncertain if she were angry at Michael, sad for him or, somehow, both. She was certain of one thing. He would not be able to keep her from the mission.

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

Michael was angry. He could not suppress, repress or deny the emotion. He was angry at the world in general and Section One in particular. He was angry at Nikita for not being patient, at Petrosian for tempting her with power, at fate for making him realize that he no longer trusted her. That he hadn't trusted her since the episode in which he went into mandatory refusal and he suspected that Section had sent her to find and stop him. He was angry that she had not realized that Rene killing him would have been a type of justice. He was angry at Madeline for giving him words meant to betray. He was angry at Operations for the things he had been ordered to do for Section One's benefit. He was angry with Rene for not shooting when he had the chance.

The more angry he became the faster he gunned the engine of his cycle. The faster he flew between and around the traffic.

Mostly, he was angry at himself. It was really all his fault and all his responsibility. He had again opened himself up to pain, manipulation and words designed to hurt when he had allowed himself to hope. That hope had bled slowly away like blood dripping from an open wound. He had told Nikita that sometimes all people have are their dreams. His dreams had all turned into nightmares. Once he had been impervious. Once it had been simple, focus on the job. He did not want or need or care. Then he had lost his way. He had tried to find brightness in hair the color of sunshine and light in eyes the color of the sky. He should have stayed in the gray of the shadows.

Finally, he had bypassed all the traffic. He was on open highway. His anger made him ride swiftly, take chances, but he couldn't out race his thoughts.

He could not return to Section until he had controlled his anger.

What right had he to be angry? Without Section, he would have no life. He would have no purpose that allowed atonement. He was what Section had made of him. He was a weapon. A weapon did not complain of what it was, it only existed to fulfill its purpose. His purpose was to seduce, betray, infiltrate, sabotage and kill. It was not to hope or to need. A weapon did not care how it achieved its goal. He could still be only a weapon if all he had were purpose. Once that had been enough.

If all he could have of life was purpose, no joy, no hope, no light, was life worth living? Was half a life better than none at all?

The was a sign that he passed, hardly acknowledging it. It warned of a detour and construction. Ahead he could see a gaping chasm were the bridge was not complete. If he truly wanted to descend permanently into darkness, he could do so now. The anger would be over, the pain would be gone. He would never again use or be used. He would not have to watch Nikita hand Section her soul, as he had willingly done with his. He accelerated.

At the last possible minute, he braked. His back wheel skidded around until both front and back were parallel with the end of the road and only a few scant inches separated him from perdition. It appeared that he had made his decision. There was a will to survive. Half a life would be better than none. It would allow for continued atonement. He had chosen life but his eyes no longer had the glaze of anger. They had lost the light of hope. His eyes were dead. He could now return to Section.

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

Nikita put her groceries away and fixed herself a quick salad. She just picked at her food, she really wasn't hungry. The encounter with Michael had disturbed her. Most encounters with Michael disturbed her in one way or another, she admitted ruefully to herself. At first she had been angry. The unmitigating arrogance to break into her apartment and practically accuse her of betraying his secrets to Madeline. She wandered around her apartment, picking up and looking at various knickknacks, lighting candles. Finally she decided to exercise and relieve some of her tension.

She quickly changed and turned on some upbeat, fast paced music. She began her warm-up, stretching the muscles. Did he realize how angry he made her, did he even care, she thought. If he did know, then was he manipulating her again? By telling her not to go on the mission, was he making sure that she would not only go but be extra diligent? Her mind began running in circles as she began running in place. Either he was setting her up or he wasn't. The truth was there was no way she could know for sure until after the fact.

She began shadow boxing. What did she really want? Petrosian had offered her Michael as part of his full life program. Did she really want him? She did when she first returned to Section but then somehow everything got turned around. She had wanted him to show the passion of which she knew he was capable. Yet whenever he showed a crack in his walls, she gave him reason to make them stronger, not to bring them down. She lived too much in her emotions, she let her anger and hurt talk for her. She said things that she really didn't mean. She accused him of actually caring when Ops was shot for goodness sake. *Oh yeah, that's the way to bring a man around, to make him open up.*

She dropped to the ground and began push-ups. If she looked at his behavior, he was coming slowly around. Look at his sorrow over Rene. Look at his actions in the Balkans with the children. Sure, he talked tough at first but when it came down to it, he saved the children and he tried to save their parents.

She stopped and began a cool down, again slowly stretching her muscles. Michael had once told her that he didn't know what love was anymore. She once thought that she loved Michael, but looking back, maybe she didn't know what love was anymore either. Did she love him now? Could she love him now?

She walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Rolling its coolness across her forehead before opening it, she took a long slow sip. He was certainly an excellent lover if their one night together was any indication. Picturing his normally composed features, it was hard to remember the passion of that one night. She wanted it again, that passion. She wanted to feel his hands and lips exploring her body. A shiver raced through her as her body remembered his touch. Suddenly warm from more than just her exercise, she headed for the shower.

To get what she wanted she would need to admit her mistakes, at least to herself, and not repeat them. She would need to quit antagonizing him and accusing him. She would lead Michael gently and slowly back to his humanity rather than make demands he could not be prepared to suddenly meet.

Her decision having been made, she tested the water. It was at a perfect temperature. She and Michael may never have a perfect life together but they could have a life. She would see to it. She would be ready when she went into Section tomorrow.

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

Michael was already seated at the briefing table when Nikita strolled into the room. He spared her hardly a glance though she favored him with one of her most devastating smiles. He thought she was deliberately taunting him given that she had obviously chosen to disregard his request of the night before. She thought he was playing hard to get, and well, maybe showing his anger at her. Except, when she looked closer, he didn't look angry. He looked indifferent. No longer smiling, she took a seat next to him.

"Michael, I know you said.."

"It's not important anymore" he said cutting her off.

Nikita tilted her head and looked at him closely. Something was changed but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She was still trying to figure it out when Ops and Madeline walked into the room.

Madeline took a seat at the head of the table. Ops walked directly opposite his operatives and regarded them for a second before proceeding on with the briefing. "As you know, Red Cell has recently stepped up it's activities on several fronts. It could not be happening at a worse time for Section. We still haven't fully recovered our strength after the loss of the directory and our war with them last year."

Madeline took up the narrative "We've decided to stop reacting and start acting. We're going to take the initiative."

Ops continued "We were fortunate recently in that we picked up a Red Cell courier. He wasn't a high level operative but he did have some very important information, the location of Red Cell's main headquarters. They're masquerading as a legitimate business. You're going to first compromise their computer systems and then infiltrate and destroy their base of operations."

"What kind of back-up will we have?" Nikita asked.

Ops looked her straight in the eye "None." He walked to the exit and stood beside the door "Madeline will fill you in on the details." He waited another second before adding "good luck" and leaving.

Madeline stood and handed Nikita and Michael each a PDA. "You'll find additional instructions and details on these. You'll be expected to maintain silence except for pre-arranged contact times to minimize the chance of messages being intercepted. Essentially, you are on your own until the primary mission has been achieved." She looked at them both and then looked harder at Michael. Something had changed, it could be seen in his eyes. She frowned slightly. "Nikita, I want to see you in my office in thirty minutes. If you have any questions about the mission, I can address them at that time."

After Madeline left, Nikita rounded on Michael. "Two operatives, no back-up! Michael, am I in abeyance?"

Michael's pale gaze shifted to Nikita's face. "No. I warned you last night to find a reason to not go on the mission. Now it's too late." He stood, putting distance between them. "It's possible to complete the mission objectives and return. If you ask Madeline, she will explain what you need to know. I have to finish preparing." He left without a backward glance.

"You're not going to make this easy for me are you" Nikita murmured to herself. She looked over her PDA while waiting to speak with Madeline.

Michael was walking out of Madeline's office as Nikita was walking in. She smiled at him, he didn't acknowledge her. She continued in and took her seat. Madeline was pouring tea into two cups and then handed one to Nikita. Taking her cup and saucer, Nikita asked the one question she wanted answered. "Why?"

Madeline smiled softly, as if what Nikita said was faintly amusing. "Why? That is a very difficult question to answer. Perhaps if you could be more specific."

"Why are we going in alone. Is this a suicide mission?"

Madeline sat her cup down. "Nikita, the mission is very important and very dangerous. I wont lie to you, the odds of both you and Michael surviving are slight but it is not intended as a suicide mission. You and Michael are important to Section, but the successful completion of this assignment is more important."

"Why no back-up?"

"The mission may take a few days to complete. If several individuals were to move into the area there is no chance that Red Cell would not be alerted to our presence. The sims indicate that one or two operatives working alone would have the greatest chance of accomplishing the objectives. A standard three or four man back-up team would detract from rather than enhance the odds."

"Why me?"

"You and Michael work well together."

"Michael seems to think that you're manipulating him in some way, are you?"

Madeline cocked her head to one side and then picked back up her cup. "Is that information necessary for you to complete the mission?" Madeline sipped, replaced her cup and stood. "Everything that you should need will be waiting for you. Michael has all the details and can fill you in on any other particulars. As always, Michael is in charge of the mission but if you have any unusual concerns that you need to discuss with me, contact me according to these instructions." She took Nikita's PDA and typed in additional information. "You understand?" she questioned.

Nikita took the PDA and looked at it then back to Section's auburn haired manipulator. "I think I'm beginning to" she said cautiously.

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

Nikita held on tightly to Michael has the cycle hugged curve after curve in the quiet darkness of late night. She found herself constantly distracted by the feel of his body where she nestled against his back. She wondered if he was as aware of her as she was of him. Although everyday was uncertain in Section, the possibility of imminent death made her more determined to take some pleasure in what time she may have left. She just had to convince her erstwhile partner to participate.

Finally, they pulled off the main road and went down a small road, hardly more than a path. A car wouldn't have been able to maneuver in its narrow confines but the Harley slipped through like a shadow among the dark verticals of the trees. Shortly thereafter, they pulled up to a small cabin. Had Michael not known where he was going, Nikita was certain they would have missed it. It sat slightly back among the trees and probably would have been well camouflaged even by day. Nikita threw her long leg over the back and reached to unsnap her helmet, letting fall her long hair. She shook her head twice and then ran slender fingers through it while she followed Michael up to the cabin.

Michael opened the door and stepped inside. The shutters were drawn and he waited until the door was shut before turning on a small flashlight. He went to the back and opened a door to reveal a small generator. Priming and starting it, he then made his way back to the front room and turned on the light. Nikita was unimpressed with the sparsely furnished room, twirling a strand of hair around her finger she said in a slightly bored voice "So this is where we're going to be playing house."

Michael looked at her sharply "We're not playing anything, this isn't a game." He walked out of the room.

Nikita hugged herself "Well, aren't we off to a great start." She wandered through the cabin until she eventually ended up in the single bedroom with Michael. Michael was setting up the computer on a desk that sat against the wall. She looked around the room, there was a double bed, nightstand with hurricane lamp, rather than a light, with a box of matches beside it. The closet was closed but the door to the bathroom stood open. There was a chair in the corner. Michael was attaching cables to the back of the laptop but did glance up in her direction as she walked into the room. His eyes then went back to his task. "Michael, I didn't mean anything, it's just the situation. You and I are going up against Red Cell by our selves. I'm just a little, you know, tense."

Michael finished the connections and stood back to look at her. He accepted her apology without comment. "You can have the bed, I'll sleep in the other room. You should try to get some rest. We'll be going into town tomorrow to refine our intel on the site." If he seemed to gaze into her eyes longer than strictly necessary, Nikita didn't remark on it.

Gathering the courage to take the first step in her plan, Nikita replied "You don't have to sleep in the other room. We can share the bed."

Michael blinked rapidly as he digested the offer. She couldn't mean...no, given her behavior toward him of the last few months, the offer was just what she said it was, that they share the bed. Still.."That isn't necessary. I'll be fine in the other room."

"Michael, I insist. What is it? Don't you trust me or is it that you don't trust yourself. You don't think you could lay in bed with me and just sleep." Nikita challenged him.

Not wanting to suggest that she was a weakness for him, Michael had to quickly reconsider. "Fine, I'll go and get the rest of the things from the bike and then give you a few minutes to get ready. We should get what rest we can tonight."

Nikita nodded. "Great, that'll be fine." After Michael left on his errand, Nikita smiled to herself. They might have a mission against Red Cell, but she also had a mission of her own.

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

Michael waited outside the bedroom door while Nikita changed. He was reinforcing his composure. He would not dishonor himself by acting with anything less than total restraint. Yet when he had reaffirmed his decision that emotions had no place in his life, he had not imagined this situation. It would certainly be a test of his resolve, but he was used to being tested.

The door cracked open "I'm ready." Michael pushed open the door and entered the room. He saw Nikita's back as she headed for the bed. She had lit the hurricane lamp and turned the wick down low, casting the room in a soft, golden illumination. She was wearing an over sized T-shirt that came down mid-thigh. He watched her climb into bed and then quickly averted his gaze. He went to the computer, typed in a simple message and set up a flash session. He then went to the nightstand and, taking it from his holster, lay his Glock on the bedside table. Rummaging around in the clothing, he came up with a pair of loose fitting black sweat pants and entered the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind him.

Several minutes later he came out and laid his neatly folded clothing on the single chair. Nikita covertly watched his sculpted chest as he moved about the room. His skin was as pale as she remembered, his muscles as refined. His every movement was minimal, nothing wasted. Her body automatically responded, she couldn't help herself. By the time he turned off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness, her heart was beating quickly and she was having to consciously control her breathing. Her breasts had tightened and her nipples were erect. She slid down farther under the comforter, unconsciously wanting to hide her arousal. A heat and wetness was spreading through her groin. She felt more than saw Michael climb into bed beside her. It took all her self control to not touch him, to not run her fingers over his body and cover his lips with hers. However, although it wasn't easy, she had grown up. She had finally learned to be patient.

Michael carefully avoided looking at the bed after leaving the bathroom. He may have vast experience at self control but he was still a man. Still subject to the betrayal of a man's body. He placed his clothing in the room's single chair and then turned down the lamp. He felt more comfortable in the concealing darkness. He wouldn't be able to see Nikita where she lay in the bed beneath the old plaid comforter, at least until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Still, it wasn't out of sight, out of mind. In his mind's eye, he could still see her laying there, her bright hair spread like a fan upon her pillow. Her lips moist and curved into a slight smile, a welcoming smile. Her breasts...*stop this* he forcefully told himself. He would not care, he would not want, he would not feel. He would maintain control. He sat upon the bed and then swung his legs up so that he was laying on his back. He was acutely aware of the heat of the body just several inches from his own. He felt his own body stir in response to that heat. He rolled over on his side away from the source of his temptation. He was sure he would have slept better on the couch in the living room or even on the floor. How would he be able to sleep at all this close to her?

Out of the darkness at his back he heard his name whispered. "Michael, good night."

"'Night 'Kita" he whispered back and then shut his eyes tightly to try to get what sleep he could.

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

When Nikita woke the next morning, Michael had already risen. She took a quick shower and dressed. She found Michael by following her nose to the kitchen where he was drinking coffee while looking over a map of the area. There was some fresh fruit, toast and hard boiled eggs also prepared. She fixed herself a plate then sat beside him. Without acknowledging her presence, he began pointing out different routes out of the area and commenting on the terrain.

"I slept fine, thank you" Nikita said. His total dedication was beginning to get to her.

He looked at her for the first time that morning, first taking in her form as she sat beside him and then glancing from her lips to her eyes and back to her lips. "If anything should happen to me, you need to be familiar with the area so that you can get out" he said with his soft French accent.

Mesmerized by the sound of his voice, Nikita almost missed what he was saying. She tossed her head "Why should anything happen to you, that wouldn't happen to me as well?"

"I just want you to be prepared in case of unplanned for contingencies." He tore his eyes from her face and began rolling up the map. "We will be heading into town as soon as you are finished with breakfast. I'll assemble our equipment, when you are done meet me outside." He then stood and strode from the room. He would not have left her so abruptly but she had a crumb of toast on her lower lip and he was having a difficult time suppressing the impulse to kiss it away. He needed to stay focused on the mission at hand and not on Nikita's lips.

After Michael left her, Nikita ran her index finger across her lower lip. She wiped the crumb she found there on a napkin. She had noticed Michael staring at her lips before he abruptly left. Humming quietly to herself, she smiled and stood.

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

The city where Red Cell had chosen to establish their headquarters was hardly deserving of the name. It was more like a large town. In the center there were several large buildings, restaurants and the type of stores found in small urban areas around the world. Michael sipped at his second cup of coffee while pretending to read a local paper. It appeared only coincidence that every time someone exited or entered the office building across the street he had to adjust his glasses. Finishing his coffee, he folded his paper and went for a walk around the block. At every corner, he stopped and looked up at the nondescript office building. In every instance, he straightened his glasses. He then went to meet Nikita.

Nikita had spent the morning going through building and construction records under the pretext of being an architectural student from a large, well known regional university. In a perfect world this small blip on the map would have had all this information on computer and Birkoff could have had it for them before they had ever left Section. This wasn't a perfect world and the required information wasn't computerized. Nikita found the required detective work totally dull.

At the appointed time, at the appointed place, the two operatives met. They got on the cycle and road back to the cabin. The general mission profile had been set but specifics were needed to refine the mission parameters. Those specifics had now been obtained and they could make more detailed plans.

After arriving at the cabin, Michael took a chip out of the glasses he had been wearing and inserted it into an eprom reader attached to the laptop. Immediately pictures of people and buildings were displayed. He set the computer to relay these to Section in a quick information dump. The pictures would be analyzed and the identities confirmed. They then set about looking at the information that Nikita provided. Once Section had confirmed the identities, they would go. They rested and ate while they waited. They spoke very little, each focused on their role in the upcoming mission, but the silence between them was comfortable.

In only a few hours, word came back from Section. They were to proceed.

The office building in which Red Cell fronted itself also held other, more legitimate, businesses. Although there were security cameras and guards in evidence, the general public was readily allowed access during normal business hours. Nikita entered the building by the front door. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail and snapping gum, she looked like a college student. She smiled at the security guard, adjusted her backpack and proceeded to the elevator. Once inside, she climbed onto the hand rail, up and through the access door into the shaft. When the elevator stopped at the second floor, it was empty. Nikita jumped from the top of the car over to a ladder that ran vertically along the shaft. She headed to the basement.

Michael stood on the roof of a neighboring building. He watched Nikita enter the building. It was time to begin. It was still light out, the sun had not yet started to set, and he had to be careful not to draw attention to himself. He assembled and loaded his modified shotgun with a specialized projectile / bolt. He fired across the dozen feet to Red Cell's building just as the town's courthouse clocked chimed the hour. The bolt sank deeply into the mortar and brick. He tested the nylon rope attached to the bolt with a sharp jerk. It held. He looked at his watch.

Nikita had easily made it to the basement. She found the phone wires and followed them to an junction box. She opened the box and readied her cables and connectors. She isolated the wires she needed, the building was older and they hadn't started using fiberoptics yet, prepared the cutters and looked at her watch. She began mentally counting down ten... nine... eight... seven... six.

Five... four... three... two... one, now. Michael jumped from the building using the rope to guide him. He fired his Glock into the window that he was fast approaching, shattering the "unbreakable" glass before swinging through it. He landed with a quick roll and came up firing. The staff in the computer room were not the type of terrorists accustomed to being shot at and scattered in every direction. They paid no attention to their computers suddenly going off line and then rebooting. Alarms were sounding.

Nikita attached the cable to two places on the wire before cutting between them and severing the connection. She quickly made sure the modems were working correctly and then ran back the way that she came, quickly climbing the ladder. Several security guards passed her as she exited the elevator. Half of them muscled her out of the way, causing her to squeak in a terrified manner, while the others ran to the stairs. She backed away from them but they paid her no attention. As soon as they were gone, she turned and ran outside, jumped onto the cycle and sped around to the side of the building.

Staff and guards were shooting at him now. He made sure that the security camera got a good picture of him before hitting the lens with a well aimed shot. He was retreating back the way he came, firing as he went. Standing at the window he threw a grenade. The opposition suddenly quit firing and desperately scattered away from him. He grabbed the rope that he had swung in on and jumped again, repelling down the side of the building. The grenade never detonated. (It wasn't suppose to, but when inspected it would only look as if it were defective. The whole episode would appear as a failed attempt to destroy the computers.) Shots were being fired at him as Nikita pulled up and he jumped on the back of the cycle before she sped away.

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

"Sir, the switch has been throw. We're now in contact with Red Cell's cell group computers. We are also providing the input to the main computers at their headquarters. Neither one seems to know that they are talking to us rather than each other." Birkoff was relieved to finally be able to give that news to Operations. Something big was going down and this was an important part of it. Of course, he wouldn't know if Nikita and Michael were all right until they reported in, or didn't, later.

Operations nodded to his computer expert. "Download as much as you can as quickly as you can, input the information and then the virus. How much time do you think we'll have before they shut down and move their operations?"

Birkoff shrugged. "It's hard to tell. In similar circumstances, Section is set up to move data and shut down pretty quickly. If they have the same abilities, I'd guess we might have ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

"Then that will have to be long enough" Ops responded cooly. The first part of the mission profile had been attained. Now to set the next sequence in motion.

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

They took a circuitous route back to the cabin just to make sure they weren't followed. By that time night had descended but it wasn't dark. The cloudless night sky was aglow with stars and a three quarter waxing moon. They entered the cabin and closed the door before turning on the lights. Nikita turned to Michael, whatever question she had been going to ask forgotten when she saw the blood on his shirt.

"You're bleeding!"

"It's nothing."

"Come into the bedroom and let me look. I saw a medical kit in the bathroom. Take off your shirt while I go get it." Recognizing the tone, Michael followed along behind Nikita. He had just taken off his jacket when she returned with the kit.

Seeing he hadn't taken off his shirt yet, Nikita prodded him. "Shirt Michael."

"I can take care of it."

"Oh, stop it, it isn't like I haven't seen you without a shirt before. Now take it off. I need to find and clean the wound and see how bad it is."

Reluctantly Michael shed his shirt. During the trip, some of the blood had dried, pasting the shirt to the wound. When the shirt came off so did the clotted blood and the wound, where a bullet had grazed his shoulder as he descended the building, began to once more bleed freely.

Nikita looked at the blood and returned to the bathroom to get a basin of water and a washcloth. She had Michael sit on the bed while she stood in front of him and tenderly cleaned off the blood.

Michael's eyes were almost even with her breasts as she stood over him cleaning the gash. He didn't feel any pain, so distracted was he by the sight of her so close to him. She said something to him and it was only when he realized he had no idea what it was, that he pulled himself away from his reverie.

"I think you'll need stitches to close this, we should go to doctor."

"If it needs stitches, you will have to do it Nikita. Everything you need should be in the kit." Michael said as if discussing the weather. He was trying to distance himself, not just from the minimal pain of his wound but also from Nikita's closeness.

"I've never done that before, I might hurt you."

"I'll talk you through it. It isn't difficult."

Nikita cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic. Michael refused any pain medication. She sterilized and threaded the needle as Michael instructed. Then, trying to be gentle, she held the sides of the wound together and pushed the needle through. Michael didn't move or make a sound as the needle wove his skin back together. Nikita tied five small, neat stitches. Looking at her handiwork, she bent and laid a gentle kiss on the injury to help "make it better." Inspired, she then trailed a kiss along the side of Michael's neck. A small intake of breath rewarded her effort and Michael leaned into her, arching his neck to allow her more access. Strong hands grasped her arms, first pulling her closer and then roughly pushing her away.

Nikita watched stunned as Michael stood and left the room without a backward glance. She heard the front door open and close. *What is going on with him* she thought furiously. *First he's hot, then he's cold, on, off, on, off. He was responding to me. I know he still wants me. What the hell makes him think he can just walk away from me like that, without a word.* She stalked after him.

Nikita found Michael standing in the moon muted darkness to the side of the cabin. His back was to her but she could tell that he knew she was there.

"Did Madeline tell you to seduce me?" he asked calmly.

*How could you even think that of me* Nikita thought angrily. Then she remembered the scene in the bar when Petrosian sent him to her. She remembered doing and saying "whatever it took" with Jenna, the Red Cell operative. Maybe Michael had reason to think that she might be willing to use her body to manipulate him if ordered. From hard experience, he knew better than she how Section worked. For once, she thought before rashly lashing out.

"No, Madeline didn't order me to do anything. I'm the one who doesn't want Section to run her life, remember. I kissed you because it was what I wanted to do, because I thought it was something that you wanted." She tentatively laid a hand on his bare arm. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the muscle unyielding. Softly she asked "What happened to us Michael? How did we drift so far apart?" She turned him toward her. The bright moon illuminated his pale eyes.

"Things change 'Kita" he whispered to her. "I don't want to need you."

Nikita stepped closer to him. "You don't?" She reached for his hand and caressed it. She brought it to her lips and kissed his palm. "Michael, once you said to me that we have to fight everyday just to survive, not to fight what's between us. They were just words to you then but I mean those words now."

"They weren't just words 'Kita. Not all my words were a lie" he murmured into her silken hair. He tilted her face toward him. "It wasn't a lie when I said that I don't know what love is anymore. I can't give you everything that you want, everything that you should have."

"Then, Michael, I'll take what ever it is you can give me. I won't ask that you love me. For now, wanting me and needing me will be enough." She took his hand and pressed it to her heart. "I want you Michael. I don't know if I love you but I need you. I need your strength and your courage. I need your passion." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

A small part of him wanted to resist, wanted to cling to the familiar emptiness but in the moonlight resistance was futile. After a second his arms went around her and he held her to him. Her body complimenting his. He returned her kiss. At first gently but with growing ardor. Suddenly he swept her from her feet and nibbling gently at her lips carried her into the cabin and into the bedroom.

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

With the return of the sun came the return of Michael's reason. This interlude was but a dream and most dreams faded upon wakening.

Michael's internal clock had awakened him has the sun started to rise. Nikita was cuddled against him, one leg thrown across his legs, her head nestled in the hollow of his neck. He didn't move, not wanting to disturb her. Her warmth was the warmth of life. Looking at her sleeping face, he was suddenly gripped by a feeling of deja vu. His mind wandered in time and he was able to place the origin of the feeling. This was how he and Simone would awaken, twined together, taking comfort and pleasure in the presence of each other. That memory lead inexorably to others that were less pleasant. Suddenly he had to move away from her. He gently moved her limbs and head, causing her to murmur sleepily and turn over. He rose, dressed and sat in the chair just looking at her as she continued to sleep.

He had forced himself to stop loving Simone when he had thought she had been killed by Glass Curtain in a mission gone disastrously wrong. He had forced himself to stop feeling. If he had not, he would not have been able to continue. Now he saw himself headed down that same calamitous path with Nikita. She made him believe that he could learn how to love again. However, he didn't believe that was a lesson he would survive a second time. Last night, in a moment of weakness, he had allowed passion to override reason. He had lost control.

Section was not a place that fostered emotions. Love, hate, anger, all could complicate a mission, endangering the lives of innocents and other operatives. Loyalty to Section One and its goals had to supersede loyalty to friends or lovers. Attachments could and would be used against him, against Nikita.

He knew they would end up hurting each other if this continued. Although she said she would accept what he had to give, would it ever satisfy her? It was a dilemma. He wanted and needed her but, in the hard light of morning, knew that they could never find peace together. Still, in the past he had risked much for her sake. Against all reason, he decided he was willing to risk more. He would need to plan. They would need to be cautious. He would need to be perfect.

It was time to contact Section. Silently he rose and went to the computer.

*********

Madeline walked into Ops' ready room carrying a cup of black coffee. She handed it to him before seating herself. He smiled his thanks. It as a small gesture but it pleased him that with all else going on Madeline would be considerate of his wants. He finished reading the most recent intel on the Red Cell scenario. She waited patiently.

Finishing, he updated his second-in-command on the mission in progress. "Our monitors reported that a small group of Red Cell foot soldiers took out a Freedom League triad this morning. It looks like there might be a war brewing between the two groups. We wondered if they would process the information from their security camera before moving their headquarters to the secondary site and now we know. Congratulations on your misdirection. The information we changed and inputted into their mainframe now has Michael listed as a Freedom League Lieutenant. Has Birkoff been able to list the Red Cell subsidiary sites and determined the most likely secondary site for the headquarters?"

"Actually, the information that we downloaded wasn't encrypted. Birkoff was immediately able to find and open the directories. We have all the locations and a roster of the personnel most likely to be present. The information regarding the probable relocation of their headquarters will be sent to Michael shortly. He's remaining in position until a site is projected" Madeline answered.

"Very good" Ops said with a self satisfied manner. "Then on to other business. What's the status on the embassy situation in Caracas?"

"George is willing to let the Agency handle it."

"And Brussels?"

"No change. We need to stay on top of the situation but no other action is needed at present."

Ops nodded, pleased with the report. "Begin calling in all teams and have them on stand-by. Within ten hours the virus we implanted should crash all their computers. At that time, I want all teams ready to go. I want at least fifty percent containment on the Red Cell auxiliary groups. If Michael is successful in the strike on their upper hierarchy then Red Cell will be in such disarray that it will take months, maybe years before they can re-gather their strength." That topic having been discussed, Ops went on to the next subject. "Has Nikita contacted you?"

Madeline looked thoughtful. "No, she hasn't. Since the mission is proceeding well, I can only assume that our concerns were groundless or the situation has resolved itself."

Ops wasn't sure if the way that the situation may have resolved itself was in Sections best long term interests. However, one crisis at a time. "We can discuss this further later. Would you care to join me for lunch?"

"I believe I can change my schedule to accommodate....lunch." Madeline smiled as she responded then stood and left. Things were fast approaching resolution and she would need to be ready.

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

Nikita began to stir, slowly awakening. She stretched like a contented cat, remembering the culmination of their passion the night before. It seemed like a dream, a wonderful, erotic dream. Coming more fully awake, she realized that she had awakened alone in the bed for the second time in as many days. Mouth compressed in a slight pout, she looked about the room. Finding Michael seated in the chair watching her, she smiled invitingly.

"It's time to get up. The final intel has been transmitted. We need to leave" Michael informed her.

"Good morning to you too" Nikita said too sweetly.

Standing, Michael slowly and purposefully walked toward her. He knelt upon the bed and leaned over her. He lowered his mouth to hers and captured her lips. The kiss was not demanding but was possessive and thorough. It literally took her breath away. Pulling back from her mouth, he whispered seductively "Good morning. Now, it's time to get up. The final intel has been transmitted. We need to leave." He smiled at her then. It wasn't a large smile. More a slight upturning of the corners of his mouth but Nikita saw it as a major victory in her battle to help Michael reclaim his soul.

Hours later they were hidden in a lightly wooded area overlooking an abandoned military training camp. Abandoned by the military but not by Red Cell. Having had their central command/primary computer base breached, they had moved their headquarters to a temporary secondary site. Michael and Nikita now had that site under observation.

The compound was perhaps three thousand feet across, surrounded by a barbed wire fence and security gate. Two buildings appeared to be barracks, one an office and two others could not have their functions immediately identified. The buildings were wooden structures with flat corrugated metal roofs. Asphalt covered the area in front of the them. An obstacle course was laid out behind the barracks. At least one hundred foot soldiers had been counted though only thirty or so were on patrol in the compound and on the outer perimeter. Red Cell was apparently taking no chances. Several trucks were parked in one area and a van with a microwave dish stationed on the roof was also visible but parked well away from the trucks. The office building seemed to be the center of activity. Any of the upper echelon present were probably making it their command center. That would be their primary target.

"This is impossible. There's no way we are going to be able to get in there" Nikita complained. She was in black mission gear, including a bullet proof vest, her blond hair tucked up under a ski mask that was not yet pulled down to cover her face. Michael was similarly attired. They each had several small explosive charges, an automatic and an Uzi. Michael was watching the camp with a pair of binoculars.

"We can get in, the problem will be getting back out afterward" Michael answered, continuing to scan the area below.

"Michael this is suicide!"

Michael ignored her complaint. Even if it were suicide, they would still do everything possible to accomplish the mission, but it wasn't suicide or at least it didn't have to be. "Nikita, you'll be in charge of transportation....."

Since there was no way to go in quietly, they would go in loud. Michael made his way to one side of the compound and Nikita to the other, the one closest to the makeshift carpool. They carefully avoided the outliers or took them down if they were in a position to not be immediately noticed. Getting as close to the fence as possible, Michael began setting timed explosive devices at irregular intervals. Brush, tall weeds and the occasional tree provided cover for his activity. Stealth and skill provided the extra edge that he needed not the be discovered.

Nikita crawled as close the to the fence as she could and still be undetected by the patrols inside. She waited, wire cutters ready, for Michael.

Having set the devices, Michael made his way back to Nikita. He arrived just as the first device detonated. The explosion was not especially large but it took out a portion of the fence and a passing guard. Michael shot the guards close to their position while Nikita cut the fence, Michael went through and left her to her job. Most of the guards had rushed to the breach in the gate and fired at unseen enemies. Smoke from the explosions added to the confusion. Others were alerted to their presence by the gunfire and came rushing from the buildings.

Michael shot them as they emerged. They returned fire but found themselves bottle necked in the doors. They began shooting from the windows but Michael was no longer in his last position. He seemed to have disappeared.

Nikita systematically trained her gunfire on the trucks until noticing several large drums sitting beside them. Red Cell had evidently brought their own fuel. She changed her target. The fuel went up explosively. The blast knocked her to the ground. She lay there as flames and smoke boiled into the air and the fuel tanks in the trucks began to explode.

Michael lay flat against the roof, his gun trained on the door to the office building. A dozen guards had rushed there to protect whomever was inside. The guards were alert and in spite of the confusion and the explosions were holding their positions. Their assault rifles were pointed in every direction and a few of the less seasoned men fired them in the direction of the explosions. Michael discharged his Uzi taking them down, their return fire missing him completely. However, someone still inside the barracks heard the reports and began firing through the ceiling and into the roof. Michael was up and running, the bullets hitting where he had just lay and following his heels across the few feet of roof. He jumped, landed gracefully and ran low through the carnage at his feet. Any body that continued to move was a target. His body jerked a couple of times as bullets hit the vest but he was not knocked to the ground. He made it to the steps of the building. The door opened and more guards emerged. Michael's aim was better than theirs and they went down, one body holding the door open. Michael hurled in his last explosive and went to ground. The building went up quickly, the wood igniting. Men were converging on his position. Michael fired from the ground. All around him bullets kicked up dirt in his face.

The van came from behind the firing foot soldiers, hitting several and scattering more. It rushed in perpendicular to where Michael lay. He rose and quickly opened the side door, jumping inside. The van hardly slowed. He kicked open the rear doors and fired behind him as the van rushed the security gate.

Simultaneously at a few dozen places around the world, computer screens went suddenly blank and then filled with large white numbers counted down from ten. Shouts of alarm sounded. Then the assault started. There was, of course, resistance. Causalities were seen on both sides, but by far Red Cell took the heavier losses.

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

Nikita walked closely beside Michael as they moved through the halls of Section One. She took every opportunity to brush against and touch him. He had already admonished her once to be careful but she was enjoying her teasing, spontaneous caresses. Despite their circumstances, she was happy and it was difficult for her to hide her emotions. Nikita impulsively kissed Michael on the cheek when she thought no one was looking.

"Please Nikita, we must be careful" Michael told her again.

"No one is watching us, don't be so paranoid."

"In Section, someone is always watching."

"Come by my apartment tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"If I can but I can't promise anything."

"If you come, I'll make it worth your while" she whispered to him seductively.

"I'll try. I have to go now. Operations is expecting my report soon and I need to finish it." He turned and walked away. He had become more detached and impassive since setting foot back in Section. Nikita saw this as a challenge.

He had just turned the corner when Nikita remembered that she needed to tell him that she wouldn't be home till after eight. She followed.

Michael had just entered his office, unbuttoned his jacket and sat at his keyboard when Operations walked in, leaving the door slightly ajar. He did not look pleased in spite of the successful outcome of the Red Cell operation. Michael rose and buttoned his jacket. Although it could not be seen from his imperturbable features, he was tense and alert for disaster.

"Nikita seems very cheerful" Ops said casually while challenging Michael with his gaze. "You're not making a mistake, are you Michael?"

"I'm not making a mistake" Michael answered unflinchingly.

"Are you having sex with her?" Ops asked bluntly.

Michael held Operations stare.

He did not see Nikita as she approached his door. She didn't mean to eavesdrop but when she heard Ops' voice coming from Michael's office, she thought she shouldn't interrupt them. Instead, she chose to wait outside the door. She could clearly hear the conversation.

Michael decided not to answer the question directly. Lies could be disguised with the truth. "Nikita is a good operative. She has a lot of potential but remains too emotional. She wants to do things her way, set her own priorities."

Operations acknowledged the truth of Michael's words. They had discussed this before.

"A physical relationship between us should give me more control over her, make her less resistant to Section's way of doing things."

Operations considered this and nodded. "That has proved an effective strategy in the past. OK, we'll see what happens but be discrete."

"Of course." Michael was privately very pleased though of course it did not show in his expression. He had just received Operations' blessing to pursue a relationship with Nikita. He felt, almost, hopeful.

Nikita almost burst into the room when she heard Ops ask Michael such a personal question. He had no right prying into her private life so long as it didn't affect her effectiveness in Section. She wanted, however, to hear Michael's answer. She expected him to deny any relationship. Instead she heard him coldly describe their passion as another attempt to control her, another manipulation. Angry tears filled her eyes. He had done it to her again. His initial resistance was just a calculated show. She had been made a fool once more. She backed away from the door and waited for Ops to leave.

"I'll have your mission report soon?" Ops asked.

"It's almost completed."

"Good. Bring it to my office when it's done. I have a profile I need to go over with you. I know you just came in from a mission but it looks like it's going to be a late night." Ops left Michael to his work.

Nikita had been watching from down the hallway. Seeing that Michael was now alone, she made her way to his office. She slipped in, shutting the door behind her.

Michael looked up when his door opened. Nikita slipped in but stood just inside the door, coming no further into the room. He could tell by the set of her shoulders, the defiant tilt of her head and the tears that shimmered in her eyes that something was very wrong. "Nikita...."

"No! No, Michael don't say anything. I heard what you told Ops. Just tell me one thing. Was it all planned from the beginning or was it just a spur of the moment thing. I said I would take whatever you could give but I never expected you to give me more lies." Her initial hurt had turned into a protective anger. "You want to crush my emotions, well, you've partially succeeded. I don't feel anything, anything for you, anymore. Congratulations, you can report to Ops one more mission successfully completed." Her tirade finished, she left a stunned Michael.

Michael had never had a chance to interrupt Nikita's angry accusation. He had said those things to Ops to make sure their relationship would be condoned. She had overheard but believed the lies to be the truth and now thought the truth was a lie. He and Nikita had come full circle.

Re-entering Section One was like a sleeper stirring from his slumber, the dream already forgotten before he fully awakens. Emotions had no place in Section. There are no happy endings, just endings.

The End

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