"You're right Sydney, that was a better idea." Jarod conceded, already changing his plans for Lyle based on this new information. "Don't worry Syd, by the time I'm through with him, Lyle won't be causing any of us any trouble." Jarod finished, hanging up the phone and preparing to sneak back into Section One undetected.

"Well?" Miss Parker asked succinctly after Sydney had hung up with the wayward pretender.

"He said not to worry, he'd take care of Lyle." Sydney briefly looked up at Miss Parker and Broots, contemplating what Jarod might have in store for Lyle. 'Interesting that Jarod specified that Bobby Lyle would no longer be a threat to not just anyone, but rather to them personally. 'Blackmail perhaps?' Sydney mused while Miss Parker continued to pace with Broots following her every step.

********

Once Jarod left, Michael set to work. He had ten hours. Walter was in the back of the warehouse, resting up for the long struggle ahead.

"Birkoff." Michael spoke softly into Walter's specially made comm unit, waiting for the computer wiz to acknowledge him when Comm was sufficiently clear.

"Go ahead, I've got a two minute window." Birkoff returned a few minutes later.

"I need intel on The Centre."

"What kind of intel?"

"All of it." Michael replied patiently.

"Of course all of it, why did I even bother asking." Birkoff muttered, expecting Michael to ignore his sarcasm as he usually did. "Anything in particular I should be looking for?"

"References to cloning as well as Major Charles and his family."

"Major Charles?"

"Yes." Michael confirmed. "I'll contact you in six hours." Michael finished, giving Birkoff ample time to gather all the information he could. In the meantime, he'd use the next six hours to further his plans regarding Oversight and Section. Once he had Birkoff's intel he'd read it himself and contact his own sources before he returned to Section for the upcoming missions.

"Gee, Michael, thanks. A whole six hours, in between everything else going on around here." Birkoff replied.

"No fingerprints, their cybergeek is as good as you are if not better." Michael returned with a slight smile (taking his comm unit off before Birkoff mouthed off again), knowing this would provoke the younger man to be even more careful about leaving electronic fingerprints than he normally was.

********

"Birkoff, report." Michael spoke softly into his comm unit six hours later and once again sat patiently, waiting for the computer wiz to respond. He'd done all he could to further his own agenda from the confines of the abandoned warehouse. He'd have to make a few stops on the way back to the Section, after he made sure that Nikita was on her way to recovery. He'd told his co-conspirators that he had to be back in Section in thirty hours, but one of the things that Michael had done over the last few hours, had been to change the profile and parameters on his next mission so as to give him a few extra hours before he had to show up for briefing.

The tricky part was to increase the POS significantly with the new profile, enough to warrant the changes and alleviate any suspicion regarding tampering. Michael, though, was a master strategist and tactician and successfully pulled it off. He'd given himself a few extra hours leeway for any contingencies, including gleaning information from various contacts to help him track down Jarod's family.

Working from the warehouse had an added bonus: while Section wouldn't be able to trace his signal, they *would* see that he was 'working'. They would believe that he was, as usual, busy with his Section duties, even on downtime. Too busy, in fact to try anything regarding Nikita.

Remembering his parting comment to Birkoff the last time they spoke, Michael almost smiled. He knew that Birkoff would take his earlier remark as the challenge that it was meant to be. He *knew* that Birkoff would not let himself be caught 'snooping'. Besides Michael had a feeling that Jarod would 'sanitize' the Centre's mainframe much the same way he had sanitized the Section's mainframe after the last round of digging he and Birkoff had attempted. Jarod was as cautious as he himself was.

Michael had surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, begun to find more and more similarities between himself and the pretender. He attributed it to the fact that both of them had spent the better part of their lives in similar hells. As he found out more about the Centre, Michael realized that it was no better and as much a prison as Section was.

Michael's respect for the pretender had grown over the last few days. How the man had managed to keep, among other things, his sanity and soul in the Centre was a mystery. At least Michael had a childhood, at least had the chance to grow up in a loving, if somewhat dysfunctional (whose wasn't) family. Jarod, on the other hand, whose only 'crime' was being a prodigy, was kidnaped as a child and had to spend his childhood and adulthood in a living hell.

Michael supposed that it had been Sydney, Jarod's Centre contact and informant, who had tried to instill some quality of life into Jarod's existence in that oppressive environment, simultaneously testing, teaching and mentoring the genius pretender. He supposed that Sydney was probably most responsible for Jarod's fortitude and strength of character. If not for the older man, Jarod would have probably become as cynical, bitter and ruthless as the Centre's hierarchy and Michael himself had been before Nikita entered his life.

His musings at an end, he waited patiently for Birkoff's report.

********

"Walter." Michael called, gently tugging on the man's arm and stepping away, knowing that an operative's reflexes always stayed sharp, no matter how old they were. "I administered the last dose. Nikita will be up soon." He finished, already on the way back to Nikita's bedside before the statement was out of his mouth.

"Give me ten minutes, I'll be right there." Walter replied, the last remnants of sleep disappearing upon mention of his 'Sugar.'

Walter knew that the next twenty-four hours would be hell. He again cursed Section for what they'd done to Nikita. The more years he spent in the Section, the more disgusted he grew with the place. 'No, not the place,' Walter amended, 'but the leaders.' Walter knew Section could never be paradise, but it seemed to him lately that it had become a living hell for most of its inhabitants.

Operations and Madeline became more and more ruthless as the years went by, certainly more ruthless than was necessary. Did they really believe that Michael and Nikita would plot a coup d'etat behind their backs? Were they that paranoid? Were they that blind and stupid? Madeline prided herself on her psych ops abilities, how could she have been so wrong? Did the Philo mission scare them? Were the operatives too loyal to Michael? Walter didn't think so. It seemed to Walter that they'd waited as long as they could before the so-called mutiny. Besides if that was the case, they would have done something to Michael as a lesson to the others. And with their level of paranoia they would have done it a lot sooner.

No, it had to be something else. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, Walter finished his musings, that duo had gone too far. When all of this was over, Walter would convince Michael to do something, for their sake as well as Section's. He was sure the younger man had revenge on his mind anyway. He could see it in his eyes. The camel's back had broken. The irony of the situation did not escape Walter. Nikita's re-programming, the maneuver that the duo thought would finally make Michael submit to them completely, was probably the beginning of the end for them. Walter had no doubt in his mind that Michael would not let them get away with this.

********

Walter came to Nikita's bedside a few minutes later and sat down on her left, opposite of Michael.

"Get any sleep since Jarod left?" Walter asked, already knowing the answer.

"No." Michael replied.

"And you won't in the next twenty four hours, will you?" Walter continued without waiting for a reply, hurrying to finish his speech before Michael stopped him. "Hell, knowing you, you won't be getting *any* rest for the next three days. Contrary to most of Section personnel's belief, yourself included I might add, you're not The Terminator. Even *you* need a respite once in a while."

"I'll be fine." Michael stubbornly replied, as Walter mentally mouthed the words at the same time.

"Of course you will." Walter grumbled sarcastically before the two men lapsed into silence waiting for Nikita to wake up.

Both men had instructions to call Jarod if anything outside of the parameters he'd outlined happened. Michael was confident that wouldn't happen. As he'd realized earlier, Jarod was as meticulous a planner as he himself was. Besides, Michael had gone over all the materials that Jarod had and while he was not in the pretender's league when it came to medicine and chemistry - in Michael's opinion no one came close to Jarod in several disciplines - he understood enough to know that there shouldn't be any problems.

Michael once again reflected that he'd owe the pretender quite a bit once this was over. As thorough as Michael always was, he had to admire Jarod's thoroughness as well. The pretender had gone over every contingency that could possibly happen over the next few days, including scenarios in which certain Section personnel could get too close to the truth and planned around it. Not surprisingly, Michael had had to make very few adjustments in Jarod's 'work.' As good as the pretender was, Michael's skills in strategy and profiling were surpassed by none, especially when it came to something he *really* wanted.

Nikita's slight stirring, signaling her eminent return to consciousness, brought both Michael and Walter out of their individual musings and into the present as both men waited for the inevitable explosion.

Nikita's ascent into consciousness was faster than anyone in the abandoned warehouse would have liked. When she awoke, her first sensation was blinding pain and it showed. The two men, one on either side of the hospital bed she was lying in, prepared for the onslaught.

As soon as the pain decreased to a tolerable level and coherent thought was possible, Nikita immediately looked around, surveying her surroundings and noted that she was in restraints.

"What have you done?" Nikita questioned sharply, encompassing in those four words all the 'w's' - who, what, where, when and why?

"You're safe." Michael replied, readying himself for the questions ahead, while Walter stood up and quietly moved away, knowing that Michael would want to do this part on his own.

"Safe from what?"

"From Section." Michael paused. "From yourself." Michael concluded, explaining the restraints in his customary succinct speech.

"I have nothing to hide from Section." Nikita replied, a hint of frustration already coloring her voice.

"You will."

"Look, Michael." Nikita interrupted. "I want out of here. Whatever you're attempting is not going to work. I haven't been 'adjusted' and even if I had, *I* don't care, so why do you?"

"You don't care?" Michael echoed.

"No." Nikita replied with more surety than she was feeling at the moment, beginning her tirade. "I like myself better this way. No emotions, no fears, no desires to color my judgement. I would have thought that you of all people would understand. It's the way you've been living, isn't it? Good enough for you, but not for me?" Nikita questioned hoping Michael would see her 'logic.'

"You told me that it wasn't living or don't you remember?"

"I remember *everything* Michael. Including all your deceptions, lies and half truths. They don't bother me anymore. I don't care about *you* or the past anymore." Nikita added, intending to hurt. "Why can't you accept that and let me move on?"

"Because it's not who you are." Michael replied, swallowing his pain at her words and purposely echoing the words she'd spoken to him after he'd lost his memory at the hands of a Red Cell interrogator, noting the brief flicker in Nikita's eyes as she struggled not to react.

"It's who I am now."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Even though it's what I want?" Nikita interrupted, again lashing out at her favorite target over the past five years. "But then, it's always been about what *you* wanted, what *you* were willing to give. Maybe I got tired of it and welcomed my supposed adjustment?"

"Why?" Michael questioned Nikita, refusing to succumb to the pain of her words while knowing they were true. The fact that Nikita was using this tactic actually heartened him even more than it pained him. He knew that they had gotten past all this in their brief relationship. Had they not been able to and had Nikita not finally trusted Michael with more than just her life, they would never have had *any* kind of meaningful relationship. And however brief, thanks to Section One, their relationship was, it *was* very meaningful. Nikita emoting and using past insecurities to goad him at least showed Michael that Nikita's emotions were surfacing and that was a good sign.

"Why what?" Nikita questioned, confusion and exasperation clearly showing in her eyes.

"Why welcome it?"

"I told you already." Nikita stated angrily.

"What about life?" Michael interrupted. "You don't miss it?"

"I have a life." Nikita replied.

"Section."

"Yes, Section. It's all I need. It used to be all you ever needed."

"Is that what you want? To be like me?" Michael questioned, neither admitting nor denying the truth of that statement. It *had* been all he needed, until Nikita came along. This was his chance to repay Nikita for bringing him back to life when those around him, himself included, thought that *he* was dead, on the inside at least.

"I'm better than you, Michael. You're weak, you pretend not to feel, not to hurt. I don't have to pretend, I *don't* feel, I *don't* hurt"

"You don't live either." Michael replied, knowing that if Nikita's emotions were truly surfacing, a life inside and outside of Section, their rules be damned, would be a priority and therefore a good first step in bringing her back. A 'life' was something that she'd been fighting for since her recruitment. If she could be made to remember that, then she could be made to remember that she *had* achieved her own corner of peace and relative happiness inside this hell and that that peace and happiness were worth regaining.

********

Twelve hours had passed since Nikita had woken up. Unfortunately for Michael and Walter they were not peaceful hours. She had finally fallen into an exhausted albeit fitful sleep a few minutes ago.

Walter was pacing already, the adrenaline rush from keeping up with Nikita the last half day preventing him from resting and preparing for the next round. As much pain as Nikita had caused Walter with some of her antics, that had been nothing compared to the amount of pain Michael had patiently and stoically withstood.

Walter was sometimes amazed by the depth of Michael's devotion to Nikita. He always knew the younger man had an infinite amount of patience, but this devotion to Nikita was almost surprising. He didn't want to listen in on their conversation, but he couldn't help it. The abandoned warehouse carried every sound and voice. Every biting remark, every hateful word that came out of Nikita's mouth carried throughout the warehouse.

Jarod had said that it wouldn't be pretty and that fear and anger would be driving Nikita when she awoke, but Walter had not expected this much venom from 'his Sugar.' Every one of Nikita's negative feelings towards Michael over the years came pouring out. And Michael, in typical fashion, took it stoically, believing it was well deserved.

Walter was surprised that Michael had not asked him to leave so that his pain would remain private. Walter supposed that this was just more evidence to suggest that the dam had finally broken. Michael had finally had enough and sat back no longer. It had taken a direct attack on Nikita, but Michael was finally taking back his life. Michael had taken much abuse in his climb up the food chain in Section One. He'd always kept everything inside, rarely did he externalize *any* emotions. Had the top duo left Nikita alone and continued 'abusing' Michael, Walter honestly believed that Michael would accept any 'punishment' as his due, his penance.

********

Walter smiled as his thoughts turned to Michael's tenure in Section One. He remembered the then twenty five year old level two transfer from Section Three. He'd already reached level two faster than anyone else. That fact combined with him being a prison recruit had some in Section Three wary. Michael was transferred to Section One to alleviate the tension in Three. Of course, given his already impressive skills in the field, strategy and tactical, it was only a matter of time before he was transferred into One anyway. After all, it was where the 'best of the best' were.

Walter's smile faded as he remembered the trials Section One had put Michael through when he had arrived. Since his first moments in One, Michael had been constantly tested. Even though Michael was a damn good level two operative already when he arrived, Operations and Madeline decided to 're-train' him.

Michael's first hurdle had been Jurgen, who even back then had been a high level special op. It wasn't Michael's skills that were in question but rather his psyche. Madeline and Operations had been worried that Michael was too good, even at the relatively tender age of twenty five. Madeline had decided that the best course of action as far as Section One was concerned was to break Michael and then build him back up to her specifications. She used Jurgen and his sometimes brutal methods to that end.

Jurgen was at first 'gentle' with Michael, building trust and friendship. As good and intelligent as Michael was, he was easy prey for Jurgen who had spent the better part of his years in service to Section breaking operatives, re-building them the way Section wanted them and then judging whether they were fit for duty or cancellation. Michael took to Jurgen, believing he had found a friend in the more seasoned operative and suffered the consequences.

Walter had liked Michael well enough in the beginning. But Michael had always been rather reserved. Nothing like he was now, but not exactly extroverted either. As he had once told Nikita, he was never sure whether or not Michael was part of his five percent club. There were moments of pure ruthlessness on Michael's part as far back as Walter could remember. Those moments were prevalent in Michael's early years.

Knowing what he knew about Michael now, Walter sadly realized that Michael had just done what he needed to do to advance. Michael knew from the beginning that in Section One advancement was the only way to stay alive. Had he taken the time to really 'study' the younger man, Walter would have long ago realized that Michael did indeed belong to his club.

As much as Walter liked to believe otherwise, he knew that no matter his impressions of Michael in his early days, there was nothing he could have done to help him. Warning Michael about Jurgen's deceptions would have only gotten himself into trouble.

Walter's thoughts once again turned to the distant past. When Simone had come into his life, Michael had changed. The change was subtle, but enough to increase Madeline's worrying enough that she was prepared to use her trump card - Jurgen. Michael had begun to configure his profiles with more attention to saving lives - operatives and innocents alike. This did not sit well with Section's top dogs.

When Michael and Simone had married, they tried to hide it. Walter had always been fond of Simone, almost as much as Nikita. The only person they had told about their marriage besides Walter had been Jurgen. Simone had always had reservations about the man, but Michael had managed to convince her that Jurgen was trustworthy. That misconception had turned the tide in Section's favor.

Within hours of telling Jurgen the good news, the newlyweds were called into Operations' aerie. When they came out they weren't the same. Simone was sent out on an undercover mission that had lasted for over six months. By the time she came back, Michael was already 'dating' Elena. Both knew that to question their assignments would at the very least mean a permanent transfer for one or the other or at the very worst cancellation.

Michael had immediately realized that Jurgen betrayed them, but it was too late. Michael, the 'machine man' was already born. Other than Simone, he distanced himself from everyone in Section. The last straw had been Simone's 'death'. It was Jurgen who had convinced Michael that he and Simone did not need back up on their mission against Glass Curtain. It was after that fateful mission that both Michael and Jurgen had changed. One for the better and one for the worse.

After his wife's death, Michael truly had become a machine. As Walter had once told Nikita, Michael shut down completely. He continued to play the loving husband to Elena, but only because that's what the mission required. Other than giving orders, Michael never talked to anyone anymore. Walter had tried, but could not get through Michael's shields. Operations and Madeline were, of course, pleased. Thank god Nikita had quickly managed to burrow under Michael's defenses and bring him somewhat back to life.

Jurgen, on the other hand, had changed for the better. Jurgen was never a 'bad guy' per say. His part in Michael's 'training' was orchestrated by Madeline. Jurgen followed her profile in order to survive - he did what he had to, what he was ordered to. Guilt is what turned Jurgen around - guilt in his role in Simone's 'death' and Michael's subsequent shut down. It was then that Jurgen had started blackmailing the Section. He had become sick and tired of their games and had decided to have as much a life for himself as was possible in the hell known as Section One. Blackmail was the only way to do it. Ironically, Walter drew closer to Jurgen and farther from Michael.

Jurgen had tried to make amends with Michael, but Michael never really forgave him. Nikita's return to Section after everyone had thought she was dead was almost a curse as much as a blessing. Walter had blamed Michael for what he thought was Nikita's death.

It had been Jurgen who had finally told Walter the truth about Nikita's six month absence, but by then the dye had been cast. Section's plans to bring Jurgen in line had already begun, with Michael a willing participant. Nikita had already picked Jurgen over Michael, partly as payback and partly because of Jurgen's openness versus Michael's silence. Scant days later Jurgen was dead.

At the time, Walter had believed that the bond Section's top operative had had with his former material was irrevocably broken. It took a long time for the wounds to heal, Michael's blood cover certainly not helping the situation, but heal they did.

Just when the two operatives had found some semblance of peace and happiness, Section One had to interfere again.

********

As distracted as Walter had been with his memories, he hadn't realized how quiet it had gotten in the abandoned warehouse. Pulling out of his reverie, he walked quietly over to Michael who was sitting beside Nikita's bed once again, watching her sleep.

Michael silently motioned to Walter to be quiet, lest they wake up Nikita. The two men walked over to the far corner of the warehouse where they quietly conversed.

"What happened?" Walter asked.

"She's asleep."

"I can see that." Walter nearly shouted out of frustration.

"She's exhausted." Michael elaborated for Walter's benefit, trying to keep his pain hidden.

"Look Michael," Walter began gently. "I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you I didn't hear or see anything. I know that you understand that Nikita isn't being herself, hasn't been herself for months. But I also know, that no matter what you know in your head, some of the things Nikita has said and done lately, especially today, have hurt a lot of people. Especially you." Walter paused, watching Michael's mask start to crumble.

"You know you can trust me Michael, if you want to talk about it, I'm here." Walter went on, his own eyes misting over at the pain that even Michael's formidable mask couldn't hide now. "I know you've always had doubts about yourself. Hell, I've had doubts about you myself. But now's not the time for 'em. You two have gotten past everything, you've buried the hatchet and the skeletons. Don't let doubt dig 'em up again. Nikita loves you, Michael, she came to terms with your past and so called dark side a long time ago. Don't beat yourself up over anything she said. Nikita forgave you a long time ago. What you heard today was fear talking. She's coming out of the programming and she's scared. You can't let her see your pain. You can't let her think that she caused it. If Nikita believes that you're in pain and she was the cause of it, she won't be able to forgive herself for it, let alone for anything else she'd done over the last few months.

"I know you know all of this, Michael. I'm just reminding you." Walter continued, heartened to see the pain receding from the younger man's eyes, knowing he was helping Michael come to terms with the distant and recent past. "Besides, if you two don't 'kiss and make up,' the top dogs will have won. They've done all this crap to keep you two unbalanced and distracted cuz they're afraid of you. Maybe, now's the time to show 'em they were right to be scared." Walter finished, hoping for a reaction.

For once in his long association with the level five operative, Walter actually correctly predicted Michael's behavior. The pain that had been emanating from Michael's eyes and posture was no more. It had been replaced by a hint of anger and more importantly, steely resolve. It seemed that Section's top dogs had finally succeeded in breaking Michael the operative. What they'd miscalculated were the consequences.

Before his features had returned to his usual blank mask, Walter glimpsed revenge and death in Michael's changeable gray-green gaze. 'Guess the dam finally broke and Michael is ready for war'. Walter thought to himself.

Now that Michael was back on the right track, Walter breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Now, it was Nikita's turn. She'd need all their help, but especially Michael's if she were to truly heal. Walter could only hope that once the drugs were out of her system, his Sugar wouldn't remember the pain she had caused her friends the last few months and more importantly, the pain she had caused Michael these last few hours because while he himself, Michael and Birkoff would forgive her in a minute, it was far from certain that Nikita would forgive herself. She would not use the programming as an excuse for her actions. She'd lay enough of the blame on herself to feel guilty for a long while, even if everyone, including god himself, told her otherwise.

********

"Michael?" Nikita asked softly, waking up from a fitful sleep. Her blue-eyed gaze immediately fell to the man lightly dozing in the chair at the side of her bed.

"How do you feel?" Michael returned, quickly coming awake.

"I don't know. Where are we? Why am I in restraints?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't..." Nikita paused, trying to sort out elusive memories. "I remember a mission, the Genefex building...Operations ordering a side mission." She continued haltingly, the pieces falling together slowly. I went upstairs and Madeline was waiting for me...Oh my god, they know Michael, they know we're together." Nikita almost screamed in alarm.

"It's ok, Nikita." Michael tried to reassure the distraught blonde. "You've been out of it for a while." Michael continued, trying to delay the inevitable explanation until Nikita was calmer. Jarod had recently explained to Michael in an e-mail that he'd been able to run a few more tests. If they were lucky and Nikita was the fighter he imagined her to be, then when she woke up after the initial saturation period she would be back to her normal self. And if they were *really* lucky, she wouldn't remember anything past the initial adjustment, even the event itself blurred.

For once, it seemed, that luck was on the side of the small group of operatives. Nikita had no memory of her post programming behavior. Now the three concerned operatives, Michael especially, would be able to break things to Nikita gently, perhaps even sparing her the worst of her actions and behavior of the last couple of months.

Knowing that he was limited in time, Michael began telling Nikita about her adjustment and its repercussions especially for the people closest to her. Michael could only hope that he'd be able to explain things quickly enough and have some time with Nikita afterwards to help her readjust before he had to return to Section.

********

As Michael was explaining to Nikita all that had transpired over the last few months, at least all that had been agreed upon by Michael, Walter and Birkoff, Walter decided to take a walk. As soon as he heard the two young operatives talking and reassured himself that his Sugar was really back, he left the warehouse and took a long walk around the neighborhood. He'd told the two inside that he was checking the perimeter but they all knew that he was just giving them their privacy.

Walter thought about their precarious situation again. He knew that Michael and Nikita's discussion would be painful for them. He also knew that Michael would spare as much of the pain as he could for Nikita - after all he'd been doing that ever since the blonde operative had been recruited into Section.

As much as both Walter and Michael would have liked to believe that they could spare Nikita the worst of her recent behavior and its repercussions, they also realized deep down that they were just deluding themselves. One of Nikita's best and most annoying qualities was her tenaciousness, she would not let go until all her questions were answered and everything was out in the open.

Furthermore, if they had any hope of fooling the head honchos for any length of time, Nikita had to act as though nothing had changed, as though she was still 'adjusted'. In order for her to do that she'd have to be aware of her recent behavior. And once that dam was opened, there was no going back, the truth - all of it - would have to come out. Walter knew that Nikita would keep the worst of her guilt and pain from Michael - not wanting to add to the already fragile level five operative's emotions. Walter could only hope that once Michael returned to Section he'd be able to help Nikita through her guilt and pain in the few days they had away from Section. At least help her enough so that when they did have to return, she'd be strong enough to face Operations and Madeline.

********

Time had run away from the three operatives inside the warehouse. The last day had been spent healing from the physical and emotional turmoil induced by Operations and Madeline's paranoia. Walter was doing the best out of all them. He'd been in Section the longest. He was used to their atrocities - more used to it than he was comfortable with, but used to it nonetheless.

While not completely healed, Michael and Nikita were well on their way. Enough so that Michael, while not happy having to return to Section shortly, was at least confident that Nikita, with Walter's help, would be sufficiently recovered in the next forty eight hours and be ready to return to Section. He had confidence in her ability as an actress to fool the head duo long enough for his plans to start coming together. By then it would be too late for Operations and Madeline to do anything to either of them - or so he hoped.

Michael had not gotten any sleep since Nikita awoke. They had spent the last twenty four hours going over the past, both the recent and the distant. They once again came to terms with each other's strengths and weaknesses, their 'light' and 'dark' sides. While far from grateful for the reasons behind this renewed understanding, they each realized that, ironically, their bond was now even stronger.

While Nikita dozed due to the remnants of the drugs still coursing through her system, Michael worked. He had known from the beginning that he wouldn't get any sleep for the better part of a week. He didn't mind, on the contrary, he almost relished it. He certainly thrived on it at least. His plans for the immediate as well as distant future were almost complete. A few more cogs in the wheel and they would never have to worry about Madeline or Operations interfering with their lives again.

"Michael?" Nikita called immediately upon awakening.

"Yes?" Michael turned, his eyes softening and his facial features relaxing as he looked at her love filled gaze.

"How long?"

"Half an hour at most, probably less. Birkoff confirmed Jarod's already on his way." Michael replied knowing Nikita was asking how long they had left before he had to leave.

"I still don't understand why Jarod did this. I mean I'm grateful but..."

"The same reason you've always done things the way you have - compassion and humanity." Michael returned, trying to keep Jarod's motives as secret as possible, knowing that's the way the pretender wanted it.

********

As Michael and Nikita were sharing their final thoughts before their temporary separation, Jarod was completing his end of the masquerade. Lyle had been contacted by private e-mail, untraceable of course. He'd been made aware of the situation as it affected him. The cloning formula was now useless. Since he was currently in charge, if the Centre found out how gravely security had been breached, it would be Lyle's head that would roll - the triumvirate not stopping at removing a thumb this time. That and the added insurance of his surveillance tapes of Lyle trading Centre secrets (Jarod's sims included) with Madeline without the triumvirate's knowledge, authorization or approval, would be enough to keep Lyle off Jarod's back for quite some time. After all, the formula would not be needed or its uselessness discovered until Jarod was recaptured. Lyle now had the best reason of all to make sure the Centre failed to recapture the pretender - his own survival.

As a final 'request' for Lyle, Jarod intimated that if anything happened to Sydney, Broots, Angelo, their families or even Miss Parker, Lyle would not enjoy the consequences. Jarod had a feeling that his staying one step ahead of the Centre would continue for some time without Lyle's interference. Jarod would continue to send his pursuers on wild goose chases while in the meantime reminding them of their pasts and hoping their conscience would one day catch up to them enough to let him be.

********

At the sound of his specialized perimeter's surveillance insistent whine, Michael turned to the door, his gun out and ready. Walter had gone for some take out and fresh air. He had just left so it had to have been Jarod, but Michael as usual, wasn't taking any chances.

"Hello again." Jarod smiled in greeting, coming into the warehouse with a medical bag.

"It's ok, Nikita." Michael reassured the blonde operative, reading her questioning gaze correctly. "You can trust him."

While Michael had told Nikita of the 'recruit's' help these last few days, she was still finding it hard to trust the man. She'd finally realized not too long ago, that *very* few people, inside of Section or out, could be trusted. The irony of Michael trusting someone before she could come to that same conclusion was not lost on her. While it was true that there was something about Jarod and his sometimes almost childlike enthusiasm that reminded her of her early optimism, it was Michael's implicit trust in the man that enabled her to relax enough for Jarod to examine her.

"Well, I have to say that my little concoction worked better than I had hoped." Jarod stated as he finished examining Nikita.

"Thank you." Nikita turned to the pretender once he was finished, gratitude for her 'return' shining in her eyes.

"Don't thank me for that." Jarod replied, purposely misunderstanding. "Your quick recovery had more to do with your inner strength and your friends' dedication than my chemistry."

"I meant thank you for everything. I can't even begin to think how to repay for giving me my life back."

"Just do the same for someone else one day, that's the best way you can repay me." Jarod answered with a melancholy smile, remembering the man who had given him similar advise four years ago after helping the pretender escape the Centre the first time around.

********

Before taking their separate routes back to Section the level five operative and the pretender finalized their plans and solidified their temporary partnership. Both men had similar backgrounds and were trying to break free of that forced background. Michael was still a prisoner. Fifteen years of unwavering loyalty; losing two wives and a son, betraying his best friend, submitting repeatedly to torture and enduring countless other hardships just wasn't enough. 'They' wanted more. Well, 'they' were about to learn that there was nothing more to give. It was now time to take.

Jarod, while having escaped his forced imprisonment, still wasn't free. His life was still overshadowed by the Centre's darkness. He was still, like Michael, a prisoner of his circumstances. While Michael may not have been as innocent as Jarod had been before his 'incarceration', Michael had more than paid his dues for past deeds in his fifteen years of service in Section.

While these similarities alone did not a friendship make, the two men also realized that personality wise they were also similar. A fact that they both also attributed to their unfortunate pasts. One could remain only so much intact after living in hell for most of his life. Jarod wanted to make sure that no one, not just his clone, had to endure what he had.

Michael, on the other hand, who thanks to Section was more repressed and disillusioned than Jarod, only wanted to make sure that those he cared about stayed safe. Perhaps if Michael had had a true ally from the start as Jarod had found in Sydney, he'd be more willing to help strangers now.

********

When Michael walked into Section a few hours later, he found Jarod sitting in Comm and listening intently to his latest computer lesson.

Michael, monitoring from afar for a few minutes, noted with amusement that whenever his instructor looked away for a few seconds, thanks to Birkoff's purposeful distraction, Jarod would screw up the sim on screen. Whenever the instructor turned to the computer, frowning in consternation, Jarod and Birkoff would exchange a knowing smile or smirk. Growing up in the Centre had isolated Jarod even more than growing up in Section had isolated Birkoff. It was no wonder the two had bonded, Michael smiled inwardly, socially the two were on almost the same level - just recently coming out of their protective shells. Michael was glad to see that the pretender had seemingly found another person to call friend.

Turning away from the amusing scene in front of him, Michael walked purposefully towards his customary destination upon returning from down time - Operations' aerie. To, as always, discuss 'current events' and the standard and unavoidable questions Operations and his partner in crime, Madeline, would have concerning his recent down time.

Michael entered the aerie and stood at attention, hands clasped loosely in front him, waiting for the interrogation to begin.

To his mild surprise (not that it showed in his blank features), neither Operations nor Madeline asked him any probing questions. They were so busy with the combined influx of work from the other Sections and Oversight visits that they just updated him on current missions on pad, told him he'd be needed in tactical within the hour for the Rivera mission and to make sure he checked his laptop for up to date intel on that mission before heading to tactical.

Upon exiting the aerie, Michael breathed an inaudible sight of relief. His plan was working - the head duo were too busy with mundane missions and bureaucratic red tape to pay any attention or ask any of their usual questions upon his return from down time. He just hoped that it would stay that way for another forty eight hours.

Michael headed for his office, closing the door on his way in and securing the room from any surveillance. He wanted to finalize the intel he had gathered on Jarod's father, Major Charles, without anyone being the wiser. Michael had several solid leads and just needed a few more pieces to the puzzle to track down the elusive major.

Twenty minutes later, once he was done, Michael de-activated his scrambler and set to work on finalizing the tactical for the Rivera mission. He'd familiarized himself with the mission ahead of time and needed only fifteen minutes of work before the profile was revised to his satisfaction.

********

Jarod finished toying with his computer instructor and went off to one the myriad of surveillance free alcoves he had discovered in his time in Section to finalize his plans for the immediate future.

"Sydney." He spoke into the sanitized phone once he reached his destination and the other party picked up from his end.

"Jarod. Still in Section One?" Sydney replied, sitting on a park bench far enough away from the Centre to fend off prying eyes and ears.

"Unfortunately." Jarod replied. "Not much longer though."

"Good, it's not a place one wants to remain in for any substantial length of time." Sydney warned.

"I know. This place actually gives me the creeps, as much as the Centre did."

"May I assume that whatever you're there for has to do with the cloning data Broots and I altered?"

"Yes." Jarod smiled at his former instructor's insight. "It seems that the Centre is not the only organization interested in cloning."

"May I also assume that you're making sure that Section One loses its copies of that data."

"Something like that." Jarod answered cryptically, not wanting to divulge too much and possibly somehow get his newfound friends into trouble.

"How much longer do you need?" Sydney asked.

"A couple of days. I'll call you when it's done." Jarod ended the conversation not wanting to be late for his martial arts class.

After hanging up with Jarod, Sydney hoped and prayed that the pretender knew what he was doing and wouldn't find himself in trouble with the shadowy anti-terrorist organization. 'But then again, when was the last time Jarod had gotten himself into trouble he couldn't get out of?' Sydney mused to himself, walking out of the park and back into his own hell, also known as the Centre. He *almost* felt sorry for Section One for incurring the pretender's wrath. But then again, they assuredly deserved it.

********

As Michael and Jarod were finalizing their plans, Nikita and Walter were 'talking.' With Walter's help, Nikita had finally gotten rid of her misplaced guilt. She had finally accepted that the responsible parties for her behavior these last few months were Operations and Madeline.

Nikita remembered that before Michael returned to Section she had asked him what he was going to do about Madeline and Operations. She had seen the dangerous glint in his eyes when they talked about her return to Section in two days. She knew that he had been pushed too far. Nikita saw that her reprogramming was the last straw. Michael's loyalty to Section was no more. Nikita knew that she wasn't supposed to ever come out of her adjustment. She was the alpha test. Had her adjustment stuck, it would have only been a matter of time before it was attempted all throughout the Section. She was sure that the top duo had counted on Michael being too distracted looking for an 'antidote' to do anything before it was too late. They were right. If not for Jarod's help, Michael, Walter and Birkoff would still be looking for an antidote. As good as they were, Jarod's talents in chemistry were unsurpassed. He had found the solution long before anyone else would have.

Nikita was again thankful for the pretender's help. She still didn't know what his true motivations were but she didn't care right now. All that mattered was that she was 'back' to her old self. Her only concern now was being able to play the role of a lifetime - fooling Operations and Madeline long enough for Michael's plans to come to fruition.

Nikita knew she would not fail. She wouldn't let herself fail. It was not only her life at stake but the lives of her friends, especially the life of the man she loved more than life itself.

********

As the appointed time to Nikita's re-entrance into Section neared the small group of operatives gathered in the old abandoned warehouse one more time before the curtain rose on their once in a lifetime performance.

Nikita and Walter had had the most time to prepare as they had essentially been 'down' for the last forty eight hours. The two had talked quite a bit while cooped up. Nikita found out more about the man she often thought of as a father figure.

The time spent together brought them closer. It even brought her a better understanding of Michael. Walter had spent over thirty years in Section. He was one of the lucky ones - he survived. In a way, things had been easier for Walter in the last several years. He hadn't been a field op in quite a long while. But the stories he had told Nikita were full of horrors, professional and personal.

Through Walter's stories Nikita learned even more about what it took to survive in Section. She always knew how difficult it was - through Michael alone she had seen enough pain and sacrifice to bring most to suicide. She had foolishly believed that somewhere down the line things had to get better. She had conveniently forgotten the trials and tribulations Walter and Birkoff had been through fairly recently. Being out of the field did not necessarily prolong your life span or even make it any better for that matter. She thought back to all she had seen in her five years in Section - the good (what little of it there was) and the bad. But rather than depress her, her reminiscing strengthened her.

She didn't know for sure if they could fool Operations and Madeline for any length of time, let alone long enough to guarantee an escape from their hell. They were very good at what they did and they had been doing it for a very long time. They were not easy to fool, certainly not for any prolonged period of time. They had far too many skills and resources for that.

One thing though she was sure of now, more than ever, was that no matter how much time she had left, she would spend it with her friends. And she would spend it with Michael, the man who she knew she loved more than anything - her own life included, the man who risked everything to keep her alive physically and emotionally, sometimes against her own will. She vowed to remain by his side, covering his back for as long as she was able. She only hoped that it would be for a very long time to come, that their future wouldn't be cut short by the duo currently in power.

********

As his time in Section drew to a close Jarod thought about his plans for the Section. As much as he wanted to bring down Operations and Madeline, he also knew that it wasn't his place. The handful of operatives he'd come to know in the last few weeks deserved that honor. They had been here, surviving in this hell for a long, long time. Justice was their reward, not his.

Jarod was sure that Michael already had a plan in place to bring down those responsible for their current predicament. The man was a master profiler and tactician, as good as the pretender himself. Not for the first time, Jarod was glad that they were on the same side. He was also grateful to Sydney for convincing Michael to give up the search for the escaped pretender two years ago. Knowing what he now knew about the operative, Jarod was certain that he would, at the very least, had a hard time keeping even one step ahead of the man in black if Michael *had* decided to continue his pursuit.

If asked, he would help Michael with whatever plans he knew the level five operative was making. He knew, however, that Michael would not ask. Partly because he didn't need to, but mostly because he was the type of man who didn't want to involve anyone unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't out of selfishness he wanted it that way, but rather out of selflessness. He wouldn't allow anyone but himself to take the fall. He would take the secrets of his co-conspirators to his grave if that's what it took.

Jarod figured that Michael would use the same approach to bringing down his enemies as he himself would take - lull them into a false sense of security and then take them down *hard.* He'd leave the details to Michael, who he was sure was more than capable of the job.

Bringing down the Centre was another matter. They were safe until Jarod found his family. Until then, the pretender didn't want to take any chances. They were looking for his family too - to use them for leverage so he'd come back in and be their puppet again. At this point the Centre was his only link to his family. Once Jarod had found his *entire* family and got them, Sydney and a handful of other 'friends' away from the Centre permanently, then he would get his revenge. He had the means and knowhow to do it. The Centre's days were numbered, they just didn't know it yet.

Jarod's musings came to a halt as he neared the aerie. It was well past midnight and Section was nearly deserted. Things had finally quieted down and Operations and Madeline had taken advantage of the brief respite. They had left for the tower over an hour ago, Birkoff confirming their location. The fortuitous timing of the 'busy work' Section One, their leaders most notably, had been involved in these last few days did not escape the pretender's attention. He smiled at the thought, thoroughly convinced that Michael had a huge hand in the coincidental timing.

As he carefully laid the letter Stephen Wolfe had written to his father on Paul Wolfe's desk, Jarod felt a momentary stab of guilt. After all Steven had been a friend and now Jarod was going to help destroy his late friend's father, or at the very least do nothing to prevent it.

Walking out of the aerie and through the halls one last time on his way out the guilt receded. As he thought about all the lives the 'top dogs' had needlessly destroyed over the years and the further destruction they had tried to cause his newfound friends, claiming all of it was 'for the greater good' while in reality it was to secure and further their positions, his resolve hardened. Section One's leaders deserved anything and everything that was coming to them.

********

Unbeknownst to the pretender, Michael had found part of his family. He'd had to call in many of his markers to do it, but he felt it was worth it. He owed the pretender at least that much for helping Nikita. Besides, he had genuinely grown to like the pretender in the short time he had gotten to know him. Michael wasn't sure if he'd ever reunite with any of *his* family, but at least he was able to help someone else reunite with theirs.

As Michael waited for his final meeting with Jarod, two blocks away from the Section, he thought about his recent meeting with Major Charles.

It was after ten when he'd broken in to the apartment the Major was sharing with the pretender's clone. Their home was, ironically, fairly close by. Neither family member had realized how close the other was. Upon entering, he had found the young clone asleep in his bedroom and the Major dozing on the couch in the living room. Years of Section training and his own natural skills enabled him to sneak up on the unsuspecting former military man.

When he was close enough, he trained his gun on the Major and turned on the light.

"What the..." The Major began, instantly awake and noting the intruder and the gun pointed at him at close range.

"I'm here on Jarod's behalf." Michael interrupted.

"Who are you?" The Major returned, not believing the dangerous man in black in front of him.

"A friend. There isn't much time. Meet Jarod at this location at six AM." Michael replied, handing the Major a manilla envelope with an address on the front of it as he turned to leave.

"Wait a minute."

"If I was working for the Centre all three of you would have been brought in by now." Michael stated, correctly guessing the older man's question.

"How did you find us?" The Major asked before Michael had a chance to leave.

"Friends." Michael returned in his usual cryptic manner on his way out the door.

As soon as the man in black left, the Major went upstairs to check on his young charge. Once he was sure the boy was alright, sleeping through their mysterious guest's appearance, he went back downstairs and retrieved the envelope now laying on the couch.

Tearing into it, he found not only an address and meeting time, but leads on his wife and daughter as well. The 'mysterious stranger' was right, there wasn't much time until this supposed meeting - less than eight hours. Rather than spending his time worrying about whether or not this was a Centre trap, he decided to do something about it.

The first thing he needed to find out was the identity of his nocturnal visitor. Whoever he was, one thing was for sure - he was well trained. He had to be to in order catch as an experienced soldier as the Major so off guard. Whatever side the young man was on, he had to be in some sort of intelligence organization. And the intelligence field was something the Major was familiar with. He had many connections all over the world and although these connections hadn't helped him find his son yet, they did still have their uses.

Smiling to himself at being caught with 'his pants down' by a James Bond wannabe [ :) - I had to put that in there for Mr. Lazenby], the Major dialed a number he had memorized a long time ago.

"Oversight." Spoke a voice at the other end.

********

On their way to the abandoned warehouse for one last time, Michael decided to ask Jarod one final question. "Why ask for help?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't need any help."

"No, not really." Jarod confirmed.

"Then why ask?" Michael returned.

"I figured it'd be better for all involved. Like I told you before, I could have destroyed the formula and left but I wanted to help. Nobody's mind should ever be controlled in any way, by any one. Yeah, I could've done it on my own." Jarod continued, without any hint of ego. "The reason I asked for help - yours, Walter's and Birkoff's - is because you needed to help Nikita and Nikita needed you to help her. It was the only way for any of you to heal and come through this 'ordeal' intact. Even I could see that." Jarod finished, regretting giving this much information, unsure of how Michael would take it.

"Thank you." Michael replied and opened the warehouse door, leaving a mildly surprised Jarod staring after him.

********

As Jarod finished up his final examination of Nikita, Birkoff, on a dinner break as far Section One was concerned, joined them.

"You won't be missed until morning." Birkoff informed Jarod with a smile. "The loop's got you working on sims for another hour and then beddy bye."

"Thanks, Birkoff." Jarod replied distractedly, concentrating on the blood work in front of him.

"You're doing fine, Nikita. Your levels are almost back to normal." Jarod stated, his examination complete. "All that's left I guess, is the performance of a lifetime." Jarod continued, echoing Nikita's earlier thoughts and sobering the little group gathered.

"We haven't got much time left." Birkoff reported. "Nikita's loop ends in an hour, Michael's in two. I gotta be back in soon."

"So that's it then. What do we do now?" Walter turned to Michael, knowing the level five operative undoubtedly already had a plan in mind.

"Nothing's changed as far as Section is concerned. Jarod's escape will pull attention away from us long enough. Until then we all act the same as for the last few months."

"Long enough for what, Michael? You still haven't told us anything about your so called plans." Nikita interrupted.

"Trust me." Michael beseeched Nikita, knowing how difficult it had been for her to trust him in the past but hoping she would acquiesce this time.

"All right, Michael." Nikita replied, somewhat surprising herself and all those assembled.

"That's good enough for me then." Walter interjected, getting ready to leave and giving Birkoff a meaningful look. He was finally bestowing his uncompromising trust on the younger operative. As far as Walter was concerned, he'd follow Michael to hell and back, especially now, after all that he had done and been through these last few days. Besides, if Nikita could let it go, then so could he. It certainly wasn't the first time he had been kept in the dark, this time at least it was for a good cause.

"Fine with me, I've always said the less I know the better." Birkoff stated, already on his way out the door, adhering to Walter's unspoken plea/threat.

Both men reiterated their thanks to the pretender on their way out, knowing how invaluable his help was.

"Nikita, would you like me to take you home?" Michael asked politely, refusing to make it an order but rather hoping that she would accept on her own.

"I thought you'd never ask." Nikita beamed. As tired and emotionally drained as she was, she needed to talk to Michael before they headed in to Section tomorrow. She would keep her promise and trust Michael's plan to keep their little group out of harm's way. That didn't mean however, that they didn't have anything to discuss. She knew they would be fine professionally but she needed to reassure herself that they would be alright personally.

"Good." Michael smiled. "Just give me a moment with Jarod?"

"Of course." Nikita replied turning, with unshed tears, to Jarod and thanking him once again, before she went outside to give the two men their privacy.

Before Michael had a chance to say anything, Jarod, while putting on his coat, pulled a small manilla envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Michael.

"What's this for?"

"Extra insurance, just in case." Jarod replied, with a small smile, knowing that Michael had undoubtedly gathered insurance of his own. He was merely supplying the operative with an extra bonus - surveillance tapes of first Mr. Raines and then more recently Lyle exchanging Jarod's sims for Section intel and favors without the triumvirate's or Oversight's knowledge. He'd kept a copy for himself to keep Lyle and Raines in check and he was giving Michael a copy to keep the 'Siamese Twins' in check.

Jarod, as planned, was going to leave Section One's destiny in Michael's capable hands. Anything the level five op had planned was certainly well deserved. He figured whatever he did have planned, would take a while to come into fruition. Much as Jarod would do, Michael would 'lull' Operations and Madeline into believing they had escaped unscathed. Only when they were once again completely secure in their position would he drop the bomb, figuratively, if not literally.

Taking the proffered envelope, Michael pulled out one of his own. "The address inside, at six AM. A friend needs to see you." Michael stated.

Taking the small envelope with his left hand, Jarod stuck his right arm out. Michael, in a rare gesture, peeled off his gloves and shook Jarod's outstretched hand, the two men exchanging a wordless but meaningful goodbye.

********

The night had passed uneventfully as far most of the world, Section One and The Centre were concerned. Only a select group of individual knew better.

Nikita and Michael had talked on the way back to her apartment. They had come to a new understanding. Neither was exactly the same as before the programming, but each was once again their self. And together they were whole.

Nikita had returned to her apartment with no one outside their little group the wiser of her disappearance, fortified after her talk with Michael and once again ready to do battle with their superiors.

Michael returned to his apartment, feeling better than he had in a long time, ever since the fateful Genefex mission. He knew their little group would hold together for as long as it took for his plans to come to pass. Once again, he had Jarod to thank for this. The pretender was right, by helping each other and Nikita, they had all grown closer and for the first time since each had entered section, they had three people they trusted implicitly. 'Make that four.' Michael thought to himself, including Jarod in the mix.

Walter had returned to Section already, knowing a mission was returning and he'd be expected at his station. He'd made sure that the happiness and relief he was feeling did not show in his outward appearance. Unfortunately for the older man, he'd had lots of practice in this and other areas of deception over his many years of servitude to Section One.

Birkoff was back in his Section quarters again, being the first to return from the 'meeting.' He'd done much growing up recently and with his friends behind him he wasn't as worried about fooling the bosses as is in the past. He realized that his fear of Operations and Madeline had waned the same time as his respect for them had.

********

Jarod had passed the night waiting anxiously for six AM, not really sure why. He was surprised at his reaction. Jarod knew Michael wouldn't betray him as surely as he knew he himself would never betray the level five operative. Why he felt this way after knowing the man for such a short time was still somewhat of a mystery to him. Perhaps it was a kinship he felt towards the other man. Jarod had always come to care about the people he had helped these last four years. But for some reason he had yet to truly understand he felt like his four new friends were almost family.

As sure as Jarod was that whatever Michael had in store for him held no danger, he was equally unsure as to who would be waiting for him at six AM. He thought perhaps that it would be Sydney, or someone with a lead on his family.

As the clock struck six, Jarod heard a voice calling him that he did not expect to hear anytime soon.

"Dad." Jarod turned and almost ran to the man standing not ten feet away. After father and son embraced and Jarod was reassured of his clone's safety, Major Charles introduced him to the older gray haired man beside him.

"Jarod, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine."

"Old friend indeed," replied the other man in an accented voice. "Your father here saved my life a few times back in the old days."

"From what I've heard, my father did that a lot back 'in the old days.'" Jarod returned with a smile.

"And from what *I've* heard, you've continued that tradition quite admirably." The gray haired gentleman paused. "So Jarod, anything you'd like to tell me about your recent sojourn into Section One?"

********

It was just past nine AM, Paris time. Dawn had broken three hours ago, but events in Section One as well as the Centre across the sea were just starting to unfold.

Michael, Nikita, Birkoff, Walter and a few other select operatives had been in Section since 7 AM. The briefing for the Clemens mission had lasted all of ten minutes, but as the mission would be departing at noon, all those involved had been on close quarter standby.

As in the last few months, the aforementioned operatives' routines hadn't changed. Once the briefing was over, Michael had retreated to his office, Birkoff to his station in Comm, Nikita to her station in Systems and Walter to munitions. Each knew they had to act as if nothing was different today than it had been a week ago.

Unfortunately for the little group, Operations and Madeline had had a few hours to discuss recent events and their paranoia was kicking in with a vengeance.

Operations had found his son's letter immediately upon entering his aerie just past six this morning. He'd read the letter and after a few minutes of controlled grief he'd called in Madeline, who'd been in Section even earlier that morning than him. After several minutes of contemplation and discussion they'd checked the status of those personnel they thought could be responsible.

They'd found that Jarod was missing. Not knowing enough facts yet they decided that rather than set an alarm, they'd send out a select few housekeeping teams to search for the wayward recruit. Of course, suspicions also inevitably turned to Michael and his 'friends' as well, especially Nikita as she was Jarod's trainer. Knowing they had a briefing scheduled shortly they agreed to delay further actions until after the Clemens briefing. They had also agreed to watch the four key members of this mission very closely at the briefing and beyond, to look for any telltale signs of 'suspicious behavior.'

********

Following the briefing, Madeline and Operations returned to the aerie to discuss matters once more. Operations did not darken the window overlooking his domain, as he and Madeline had agreed. They both felt that it was better to maintain the appearance of business as usual while discussing their 'internal problems.'

"Your analysis?" Operations asked without preamble, his usual style.

"Jarod hasn't been found yet, I suspect he may be the Centre's missing pretender. As far as his agenda and actions while in Section, that is still being investigated." Madeline replied succinctly, getting the 'easier' part of their discussion out of the way.

"And the rest?" Operations broke in impatiently.

"Nikita denies knowledge of any of Jarod's activities, as do all those he'd been in relatively close contact with during his stay. The adjustment seems to be holding as well. Remember, however, she is a very skilled actor, as are her usual cohorts." Madeline paused waiting for Operations to impart his musings.

"Intel suggests that our rather busy schedule was genuine. It will take a while to prove one way or another whether or not it was manipulated."

"You suspect Jarod, a cover for his escape?"

"Yes, but I want Michael's recent activities investigated as well."

"Of course. It will take some time, he covers his tracks well, regardless of his activities." Madeline returned. "I'm not convinced that the 'fab four' are entirely innocent in Jarod's activities either. We'll need to tread carefully until we're sure Nikita's adjustment is still holding. The timing of these events is too coincidental."

"How much time?"

"Several weeks, probably. Of course, with the right manipulation of intel, we can use whatever information we find to rid ourselves of key personnel permanently and without repercussion." Madeline returned. "Until then, I suggest watchers and twenty four surveillance on all four operatives."

"Agreed." Operations replied, as his cell phone rang. "Yes?" Operations answered right away, knowing only two people had access to that number and one of them was standing in front of him.

"Hello Paul."

"Who is this?" Operations asked, caught off guard at not hearing George's voice.

"Jarod, of course. I'm disappointed you had to ask."

"What do you want?"

"Just making sure you found the letter."

"You *will* be caught. This isn't the Centre." Operations finally responded, finding his voice after a few seconds.

Operations' pause was enough confirmation for Jarod. "No, Section One is worse, but don't worry, we're not finished." Jarod warned, hanging up before the older man could respond, his conscience appeased. His intentions were twofold. He'd given the duo enough for them to, at least temporarily, believe he had been working alone, thereby giving a long enough reprieve to his new friends in case things didn't move as quickly as his father's friend had promised. Jarod had also wanted to give his late friend's father another chance. He knew Michael had plans for Section One. By leaving Operations with a warning, he thought that maybe the man would change his ways and therefore not need to be removed. Jarod doubted it would be enough, but he had to try, for Steven's sake.

********

"Well, you were right about Jarod." Operations told Madeline, hanging up his phone. "It seems we have yet another enemy to deal with." He continued tiredly. "He left a warning, along the lines of 'I'll be back and it won't be pleasant.'"

"I'm not surprised."

"He gave the impression that he was working alone, but of course that doesn't mean anything."

"Of course..." Madeline was interrupted by the intercom.

"Sir?" Operations' assistant asked, with trepidation, looking up at the man standing over him.

"Yes."

"George is here, he'd like to meet in Committee."

"He's in Section already?"

"Yes sir. They're on the way to Committee."

"They?"

"Now, Paul. Please. And bring Madeline with you." George interrupted, standing near the trembling assistant, effectively ending the conversation.

Leaving the aerie together, Madeline and Operations exchanged a look, both feeling as though the other shoe was about to drop.

********

As Operations and Madeline made their way to Committee, across the sea in Baltimore, Maryland, events were also unfolding in the Centre.

Bobby Lyle sat at his desk pouring over budget reports when his computer screen flashed with an incoming e-mail.

As he opened the e-mail, sent from his long time nemesis, he froze. He read his mail slowly as realization dawned. Jarod had gotten the upper hand, this time apparently for good. He didn't need to confirm what he was reading. He was certain the pretender had done as outlined. His scheming had come to a head. Jarod effectively had him in a corner. Until he figured a way around this mess, he was stymied.

In the meantime, he'd look for a way to restore the lost formula - there had to be a way and somehow he was going to find it. It was his only ace against the Centre. He only hoped that he found the formula before Jarod got tired of toying with him and tattled to the triumvirate.

Lyle promised himself he would find Jarod with outside sources, and this time the pretender would not get away. He'd take care of him personally, come hell or high water. He also promised himself that if he went down, he would not go alone - he'd take Jarod and his Centre cohorts with him. Until then, he'd tread carefully. Oh, he would leave Sydney, Miss Parker, Broots and Angelo alone, for the time being anyway. But once he caught Jarod, regardless of the personal cost to himself , he'd kill him and anyone who got in his way, his own sister included, even if it was the last thing he did.

********

As Operations and Madeline walked into Committee, they hid their surprise at seeing George's companions admirably. Exactly who they thought would be here was still open to debate, but it certainly wasn't the people standing there.

"Paul, Madeline." George greeted.

"George." Operations returned neutrally, showing none of the trepidation he was feeling.

"I'd like you to meet some new personnel I've taken the liberty of transferring over to One." George paused, turning to his companions. "Mr. Hillinger you're already familiar with. Next to him is Mr. MacLeod, a level five operative from Section Three, highly skilled in the field as well as strategy and tactical. Finally, Mr. Benedict, weapons wizard. Mr. Benedict is a permanent transfer, the other two temporary, until suitable replacements can be found."

"I didn't realize we were short personnel in those areas." Operations responded.

"You would have been as of now."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd realize by now that these three operatives are replacements for the personnel being transferred to Oversight, effective immediately." George replied in a voice that brooked no argument.

"And who, precisely are you transferring?" Operations queried needlessly, already knowing and dreading the answer.

"Ah, well here they come now." George returned, watching the doorway as Michael, Nikita, Walter and Birkoff entered Committee.

THE END?

Send suggestions and comments to Rita by clicking HERE.