Spoiler warnings for FLYF and anything that preceded it.

This story takes place immediately after FLYF. Spoilers for seasons one through four abound. I tried to keep it as LFN like, plausible and true to history as possible given what TPTB left us with. Hope you enjoy. Comments are always welcome.

Madeline awoke to semi-familiar surroundings, a bed in a white room. Disappointed, but not completely surprised that her plan seemingly failed, she sat up gracefully and studied her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't strapped in and the room wasn't bare. 'A buffered hostile' Madeline mused and, getting off the bed and sitting in the surprisingly comfortable chair near it, waited for her 'host' to enter, believing she was somewhere in the Center. Realizing that hypothesizing on where she went wrong and why she was still alive was futile until she had more details, Madeline sat demurely and patiently waited for the steel door to open.

Madeline did not have long to wait, but her visitor was not who she expected.

"Hello, Madeline." The older Englishwoman stated, walking inside the white room, carefully watching her former pupil for a reaction.

"Adrian." Madeline returned, surprise unwittingly flickering briefly in her eyes before she was able to shutter them.

"Follow me, please." Adrian instructed.

"Of course." Madeline replied, following the older woman out the door, refraining from asking any questions as she knew Adrian would explain herself only when she was ready and not a single moment before.

What she saw on the other side of the door once again was not what Madeline anticipated. Expecting to be in the bowels of the Center, Madeline was surprised (this time hiding it better) when she walked out into the hallway of what appeared to be a very lovely home.

Entering the formal living room, Adrian gestured for Madeline to sit. She watched with interest as Madeline chose the winged back chair rather than the more comfortable sofa, a tell-tale sign of her current mind-set. Seating herself regally on the sofa, Adrian picked up the still hot teapot sitting on the coffee table that was nestled between the sofa and the chair and poured them each a cup of tea. It was a not so subtle reminder of days gone by. After finishing their tea, Madeline, Adrian's best student got straight to the heart of the matter.

"Mr. Jones, I presume?" Madeline questioned the older woman.

"Very good, Madeline. You *were* my best student." Adrian confirmed.

"You taught me well."

"Yes. You were always ahead of the others, even Paul."

"Why?" Madeline asked, the one word representing so much.

"It was time for a change. There is much we need to discuss before the end game is played out." Adrian returned, rising from the sofa and walking out the french doors, knowing Madeline would follow. "Let's take a walk, shall we? The gardens here are beautiful."

Madeline wasn't upset, but rather fascinated. She had known Mick could not be Mr. Jones, but Adrian *was* a surprise. Quite frankly, Madeline did not believe the older woman had enough allies to attain the position. As much as Madeline hated to be caught unawares, this scenario was too intriguing to snub.

"I suppose I should start at beginning." Adrian opened the conversation as the two women walked around the seemingly endless grounds.

"Paul's ascension to power?" Madeline prodded.

"Still as sharp as ever, perhaps it should have been *you* who ascended then." Adrian speculated. "Yes, your so called coup was actually *my* final test for the real Mr. Jones' position."

"I don't understand." Madeline admitted.

"'Mr. Jones' was retiring and needed a replacement. In order to confirm his decision, I had to pass his test." Adrian paused. "He gave me a scenario and expected me to profile the outcome. It served two purposes. If successful, I would become the new head of Center and my 'disappearance' would not be questioned."

"The 'coup' was part of the profile." Madeline stated, realization dawning.

"Yes. You all acted as expected and I moved to the Center."

"What about your attempt to regain Section One?" Madeline questioned.

"Actually, that was yours and Paul's test." Adrian replied, sitting on a nearby bench and gesturing for Madeline to do the same.

"Test?" Madeline echoed, sitting down and facing the older woman.

"Yes, my dear." Adrian replied. "You failed."

"Obviously." Madeline stated, knowing had one of them passed they would have replaced Adrian as Mr. Jones. "When did you substitute yourself for a Doppelganger?"

"Right before my plans supposedly 'went to hell.' By the time Nikita climbed back into the car, the switch was made."

"So you knew all along."

"Of course, I planned it that way."

"That's why you're here." Madeline complimented her one time mentor. "May I ask how we failed?"

"You didn't cancel 'me,' but instead decided to experiment." Adrian paused. "For revenge, nothing else. That motive is unacceptable in this position. You also left the enemy alive, Madeline, something you should have known better." Adrian scolded.

"Yes." Madeline acknowledged. "It came back to haunt us when Michael took the opportunity to blackmail us."

"I'm pleased that you learned from your mistake, though." Adrian returned, referring to their recent 'disposal' of George.

"About that, I find it hard to believe you didn't discover his side deals before we did."

"I did discover the truth, so did someone else, actually." Adrian replied, not elaborating on the identity of the other person. "I wanted to see how long it took Section One to ferret it out and how you would deal with it."

"Did we at least pass *that* test?" Madeline inquired.

"Actually, you surpassed my projections." Adrian replied. "By several weeks, in fact."

"But..." Madeline prodded, knowing her former teacher well enough to ascertain from her tone and demeanor that there was one coming.

"But someone else in the organization found out and brought the evidence to me even sooner, considerably sooner, in fact." Adrian replied (purposely omitting the person's name and position in the organization) with a little bit of melancholy, George was a good friend after all and a good man until the end, his personal vendetta costing him everything.

"I see. I don't suppose you're willing to elaborate on the identity of your wunderkind?" Madeline inquired, already debating with herself on who it could be, knowing she probably wouldn't get an answer, but curious nonetheless.

"Not yet. You're not ready for it yet." Adrian hedged then deliberately changed the subject. "I must say, I was quite impressed with your recent performance. Quite a convincing suicide."

"Not convincing enough." Madeline countered, referring to the fact that she was not investigating from the 'outside' as she and Paul had planned.

"Nikita and Mick were convinced. I just knew you better, my dear." Adrian explained. "Nice touch, by the way, Paul slipping you the antidote with his kiss."

"The contingency had been in place for quite some time, actually."

"When did you begin to suspect Mick was a decoy?"

"When Nikita sat in on the evaluation. According to longstanding intel, Mr. Jones would have done it on his own. Of course, Nikita evaluating solo sealed it."

"A miscalculation on my part. I should have insisted he evaluate key personnel alone." Adrian conceded. "When are you due to contact Paul?"

"Forty eight hours after my death." Madeline replied, seeing no reason to lie. Adrian had all the cards. The older woman was in charge and answered to no one. If she had wanted Madeline dead, they wouldn't be having this conversation. Besides, Madeline had wanted to get to the bottom of things, and this was surely the most direct way to do so.

"Well that leaves us another whole day then." Adrian replied, confirming for Madeline how long she had been here.

"Where are we?" Madeline finally asked a question of her own.

"My private sanctuary." Adrian replied. "Of course the new 'Mr. Jones' will choose their own and this place will be sold."

"I see." Madeline returned, noting Adrian's purposeful non gender specific reply. "Will I meet the new 'Mr. Jones?'"

"That's entirely up to them, my dear."

"Why am I here then?" Madeline inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her, despite her vow to remain patient.

"Before I retire, I want you to understand why you and Paul must remain in your current positions at this time."

"Compassion, or lack thereof?"

"Only partially." Adrian contradicted. "You've both served the organization well throughout the years. My *main* problem is that you lost sight of the enemy."

"You're referring to Nikita?" Madeline inquired politely, refraining from referring to her as a mole, knowing she'd successfully used the same tactic several times herself.

"Yes. But not in the way you think." Adrian sighed. "I did not disagree with keeping her and Michael apart and off balance. Sacrifices only increase the higher up you are, as you well know. It also made them both better individual operatives, having to raise their numbers so you'd eventually relent."

"So where did we go wrong?"

"Reprogramming. You destroyed the essence of what made Nikita as good as she was and Michael's numbers dropped as well. It was actually quite fortunate for *everyone* that Michael was able to fix that mistake."

"With your help." Madeline supplied.

"Yes, with the information gleaned from my double, we were able to come with an 'antidote.'"

"Was that all that you felt was wrong?"

"No. That error in judgment was really just the beginning."

"How so?"

"You and Paul lost focus. The constant infighting and insecurity distracted you."

"Our numbers were consistent throughout that time." Madeline pointed out.

"I wasn't referring to POS numbers, my dear." Adrian contradicted. "If you had remained focused on the enemy, rather than internal struggles, Red Cell would, for one, no longer exist."

"Unlikely, given their successes over the last decade."

"I disagree. In fact, your recent 'capture' of their tactician Starnes, proved my point."

"We got the job done, Red Cell's base of operations was destroyed, the Director canceled."

"Yet, Red Cell managed to survive. Well enough, in fact to aid the treasonous escape of two operatives, one of whom was level five."

"Had Nikita been on her own, without Center's help, she would not have made it." Madeline stated confidently.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Madeline, but Nikita was on her own in her escape. But regardless, if Paul hadn't been too busy trying to make sure you were caught in the explosion and you hadn't been too busy ascertaining his profile and motives *and* trying to stay alive, Section One could have ensured Red Cell's permanent destruction."

"What makes you so sure Paul and I were at odds?"

"Oh, come now. Surely you must realize that nothing in Section happens that I don't know about." Adrian replied, slightly exasperated, but unwilling to show it. "Did you not realize that when you cut off the head another one would grow in? If you hadn't been so busy backstabbing each other, you could have gleaned much more information and had much better results."

"Perhaps." Was all Madeline would concede.

"I'm actually surprised you forgave and forgot so easily Madeline. Only to go through similar circumstances when the wayward operatives disappeared." Adrian paused, looking over Madeline's shoulder and seeing one of her operatives motioning that business called.

As they neared Adrian's chateau, Madeline had her first look at the operative waiting for them at the door and received yet another surprise.

"Madeline." The former Section operative greeted as the two women neared the chateau.

"Davenport." Madeline returned, quickly masking her surprise as she followed Adrian inside.

"Mr. Davenport will show you to your room while I attend to some business." Adrian stated distractedly, already studying the pda Davenport had handed her on her way to the command center in another part of her home.

"I think I remember the way." Madeline tried using Adrian's preoccupation to do a little reconnaissance by strolling through the chateau on her own.

"It's not the same room. Adrian thought you'd be more comfortable elsewhere. Please, follow me." Davenport replied, in a courteous manner but one that nevertheless indicated that he no longer answered to Madeline.

"Of course." Madeline replied, following Davenport up the stairs and into a bedroom fit for a five star hotel.

"Please feel free to enjoy all the amenities. You'll be called for lunch as soon as Adrian concludes her affairs." Davenport told Madeline and pointed to the in-house phone on the night stand, before closing and locking the door behind him.

Looking around Madeline took in the understated elegance of the room and its adjoining bathroom. Knowing that although they weren't visible there surely were cameras and listening devices hidden, she forcefully emulated a tired and bored façade and proceeded to surreptitiously investigate her surroundings.

Entering the bathroom, Madeline was surprised to see an assortment of toiletries, all the brands those she herself preferred. Further investigation revealed clothes in the dresser drawer that fit her usual style. Realizing that her 'abduction' had been planned far ahead, Madeline proceeded to take advantage of the amenities.

Feeling much refreshed after a shower and change of clothes, Madeline put on fresh makeup and then proceeded to choose a book from the rack in one corner of the room. Smiling at the selection she was sure Adrian was responsible for, Madeline chose a novel she hadn't read yet and sat on the chaise by the window that overlooked the gardens and read while waiting for her summons.

One hour later, picking up the ringing in-house phone, Madeline listened as Davenport announced he would be there to escort her to the dining room for a late lunch in 10 minutes. Looking at herself once more in the bathroom mirror, Madeline smoothed her outfit and refreshed her makeup, showing any would be observer nonchalance and no fear of her situation.

Arriving at a modest, casual dining room, as elegant as the rest of the chateau (at least what she'd seen of it), Madeline sat across from Adrian. Noticing the light lunch of hors d'oeuvres and finger sandwiches already spread out on the small table, she waited for her hostess to speak.

"I hope you don't mind the rather informal setting, I prefer the formal dining room for larger affairs."

"Not at all, this is lovely." Madeline replied.

"Good."

"Problems solved?" Madeline inquired, referring to Adrian's unexpected 'business.'

"Not problem, but rather opportunity. But yes, it's been resolved." Adrian replied cryptically. "Please, I'm sure you must be hungry, we'll talk afterwards. There should be no more interruptions." Adrian added, delicately picking and placing a sandwich on her plate, waiting for Madeline to follow her lead.

Curious as to who else Adrian had working for her in Section One, Madeline reigned in any questions, knowing they wouldn't be answered until tea was served. Realizing that this perhaps was her last supper, she sat forward and enjoyed the meal.

Neither woman spoke for the next half hour, quietly enjoying the delicious meal. Adrian always surrounded herself by the best and her kitchen staff was no different. Once the dishes were cleared and the tea served, both women sat back gracefully. While she was at a disadvantage, Madeline, with years of learning and experience, betrayed none of the trepidation she was feeling at the upcoming conversation.

"Well." Adrian began, once both women finished their tea, "Let's get back to business, shall we?"

Knowing her former student was awaiting 'sentencing,' Adrian took pity and quickly put to rest the younger woman's fears.

"I am not going to cancel you." Adrian paused, then elaborated, forestalling Madeline's inquiry. "Or demote you."

"Then why the charade with Mick?"

"Part of the profile." Adrian returned, not specifying *whose* profile. "The truth of the matter, my dear, is that I had high hopes for you. I still do."

"I find that rather difficult to believe, considering our recent past."

"While I may not have agreed with all your methods, and the fact remains that Section One has been on the down swing in the last year, I believe you and Section are still salvageable."

"I'm curious." Madeline interrupted, genuinely puzzled. "Why now? And why bother at all? I'm sure you have people you have more trust and faith in?"

"You were my best student, Madeline. You can still go further. You will never lead Center, but that doesn't mean you have to stay in Section One either. You always had as much, perhaps even more, potential than Paul."

"Had?"

"Part of the blame lies with me. I let things get out of hand." Adrian paused, reflecting on the events that had brought them here. "You and Paul became too ruthless and I allowed it. At first it was necessary. Then, I foolishly believed that George would be able to control the two of you. When he couldn't control you he betrayed everything to eliminate you."

"So why *didn't* you intervene earlier?"

"By the time George's treason came to light, it was too late."

"So, how did you find out about George?" Madeline tried again.

"As I said, I didn't. Someone else did. I merely confirmed it." Adrian replied, not identifying the person responsible for discovering George's betrayal. "By then, I already more or less knew who my successor would be. Subsequent events proved me right."

"So who *is* your successor? Nikita?" Madeline inquired.

"She is quite formidable, isn't she?" Adrian hedged. "The credit of her recruitment actually goes to someone else. I didn't think she was up to the task, but subsequent events convinced me otherwise."

"What events?" Madeline asked curiously, realizing she wasn't going to get an answer to her original question just yet.

"Her 'betrayal' of me. That was actually her final test before I stepped up her role. It proved to me that she still believed in Section's goals, at least somewhat."

"Yet she is not replacing you, is she?"

"No, the very reason we recruited her is the same reason she cannot advance that far."

"I don't understand."

"Her contempt for the organization is what enabled her to work so well for us. By the same token, that same contempt would not allow her to run it effectively."

"I see." Madeline replied, refraining from asking anything else as she saw Davenport enter the room.

"Your next appointment is here." Davenport stated.

"Well, my dear, it seems that our time is up. That unexpected business moved up my timetable." Adrian apologized to Madeline. "Against my replacement's better judgement you are moving into Oversight. You will assist George's replacement."

"Why?" A shocked Madeline inquired, not expecting to stay at her current position, let alone advance.

"Your potential is still there, use it. Do not fail me again, Madeline. Your cancellation would not be the only consequence." Adrian paused. "You'll have thirty six hours to consider what I've said and come to terms with the changes. Mr. Davenport will escort you to a nearby cabin. Feel free to 'roam' around. You will be picked up when Oversight is ready for you."

"Who will I be assisting?"

"Your new 'boss' will pick you up Wednesday morning. As it stands, Nikita will take your place in Section One. If you don't perform to standards you will, *at best,* trade places." Adrian concluded with a final warning. "Remember, as far as everyone is concerned, Mick is the *only* Mr. Jones. If any information to the contrary leaves this room, the consequences would be dire."

That said, Adrian left to her other appointment and Davenport escorted Madeline to her new home for the next thirty six hours.

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

In another part of the world, not all that far away from Adrian's chateau, another meeting was about to take place.

"Nikita." Jones smiled in greeting, trying unsuccessfully to put his favorite double agent at ease. "Have a seat." He pointed to the chair on the other side of his desk.

"You wanted to see me." Nikita stated reflexively while remaining standing, inwardly wincing at yet another painful reminder of a past she couldn't seem to let go.

"Yes. I want to formally congratulate you on a job well done." Center's day to day leader continued in his Jones persona.

"Officially?" Nikita echoed, intuitively dreading the coming conversation.

"Yes. I'm promoting you to level six."

"Why?" Nikta asked, taken aback, expecting a promotion, but not of this magnitude.

"You'll be taking over Madeline's duties at Section One, level six is the minimum requirement."

"So, Madeline is really dead?"

"No." Mr. Jones contradicted. "I'm moving her to Oversight. She'll be assisting George's replacement."

"I don't understand."

"It's simple really, I meant what I said, her fortitude is commendable as are her other skills. While she may not be ideal for second in command to Paul, I feel she *is* ideal for Oversight's second."

"And I'm ideal for Paul's second." Nikita surmised.

"Yes."

"I'm not ready."

"You may not be ready to admit you *want* the position, but you *are* ready for it." Mr. Jones contradicted. "Look how well you've done over the past year. Not to mention that you've managed to accomplish, in a relatively short amount of time, what Paul and Madeline failed to do for a decade."

"And what was that?" Nikita asked, curiously.

"Crushed all emotion out of Michael Samuelle." Jones replied. "Oh, come on Nikita." He admonished at the devastated expression on his operative's face. "You must have questioned the timing of my orders to further the relationship regardless of the consequences."

"I...I don't understand." Nikita stammered, her thoughts whirling and chaotic.

"Simone's death didn't do it, neither did having to abandon his son."

"Yes, it did." Nikita disagreed.

"No." Jones contradicted. "After Simone's death, he shut down, but the emotions were there, buried, but there. Your recruitment was fortunate in more ways than one. By bringing out his emotions again, you showed us that there was more work to be done. After his blood cover ended, Michael was merely suicidal, not emotionless."

"My betrayal was the final nail. You planned this all along. Did you plan my being subjected to the Gelman process too?" A shocked Nikita interrupted, standing up and beginning to pace, her own emotions unleashed.

"Nikita. Please sit down." Jones commanded rather than suggested. "And let me finish."

"Of course." Nikita acquiesced, horrified at her outburst, knowing that it was her behavior at Center that would mean life or death for Michael, much as *his* behavior in Section all those years meant hers.

"Although I can be and *am* a bastard at times, no, I did not plan or expect them to use Gelman's process on you. My mistake. Ironically, however, Michael's tenacity in 'bringing you back' sealed the profile for the end game, proved to me he wasn't ready."

"I don't understand."

"You're good, Nikita, but not that good. Michael recognized your sacrifice for his freedom for what it was. But your 'snow job' over the last three years and your true role in the organization finally showed the man that the only constant in his life is the organization."

"I thought we had a deal, you promised you would let him go, but you continue to talk about Michael as if he's still in the organization." Nikita commented.

"I'm not finished with him as of yet, I still have plans for him."

"What's that supposed to mean? You're reneging on our deal?"

"On the contrary, I'm adhering to our deal." Jones replied. "You wanted my assurance that Michael would not be canceled. I kept my part of the bargain."

"So why are we having this conversation?" Nikita asked, fearful of the answer.

"Michael will continue working for me, just in another capacity."

"You said he would be alive *and* free."

"No. You assumed too much."

"Excuse me?" Nikita returned, bewilderment and a growing anger replacing her anxiety.

"All I promised was that Michael would not be canceled and that I would allow you to 'rescue' him from the abeyance mission. I never told you I would 'set him free.' Your mistake was assuming that I wanted him dead."

"Then what did you want?" Nikita asked, realization finally beginning to dawn.

"Exactly what was accomplished. Michael committed to the organization and *nothing* else."

"To what end?"

"To be an effective replacement for George, of course." Jones answered while Nikita paled, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "You will remain at One as second in command. Madeline, who by the way is very much alive, will assist Michael at Oversight."

Once she recovered enough from the conversation Mr. Jones ordered Nikita to return immediately to Section One to assume her new role. As soon as she left Center, Jones got up and prepared himself for his next appointment - Michael Samuelle.

By the time she arrived in Section, Nikita regretted her decision to work for the Center. If she could go back she would have taken the bullet rather than the false promises of a brighter future for her and for Section. Jones was as ruthless as Operations could ever hope to be. All she had wanted in exchange for her lifelong services was to free the one person who had risked it all for her time and time again, but all she'd succeeded in doing was destroying that man. Nikita's guilt and remorse would long be a reminder of the insidiousness of the organization she worked for and her motivation for changing it. She knew she and Michael had no future, Jones had seen to it, but she vowed to do whatever it took to make sure it didn't happen to anyone else.

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

Taking a deep breath and readying himself for another command performance, Jones entered one of the Center's modified white rooms.

"Go ahead." He spoke to the medtech, giving him permission to administer the drug to the figure on the bed. Knowing the reaction time to the administered drug would be short given the subject, he ordered the technician away, leaned comfortably against one of the walls and waited for his 'prisoner' to wake up. He wasn't disappointed, mere moments later, far ahead of normal reaction time, the figure in the bed opened his eyes, immediately alert and wary.

"Hello, Michael."

"Mr. Jones." Michael returned blandly but politely to his superior. When he'd emerged from the forest there had been a team from Center waiting for him. Beyond caring enough either way, Michael didn't even question whether or not Nikita had set him up again. Resolved once more to his fate, Michael did not resist. Even still, as soon as he entered the waiting van, Michael was injected with a strong sedative. As he lost consciousness, Michael wondered if this was finally the end of the road.

"Considering the situation, we'll just skip the pleasantries and get right down to business."

"Fine." Michael returned, curious as to why he was unrestrained or even alive for that matter, but unwilling to show it.

"Follow me please." Jones stated, then waited momentarily for Michael to follow him. Emerging from the room, Jones waved away his bodyguards and led Michael out to the lush grounds surrounding the Center. Besides offering privacy, the walk would help return Michael's circulation back to normal after the lengthy time spent immobile and unconscious.

Surprised at the confidence in him implied by leaving the bodyguards behind, Michael as he had been trained to do over the years, buried his chaotic thoughts and waited for his superior to speak.

"I'm sure among your other emotions, there is anger." Jones began, testing the waters.

"No." Michael contradicted.

"No?" Jones echoed, secretly pleased, but not showing it.

"There's nothing." Michael elaborated.

"I don't believe that." Jones returned, further testing the level five operative's resolve by goading him.

"You've seen to it." Michael returned, without any emotion then asked the only question he had left. "Why?" He'd served almost half his life for the cause, giving everything they'd asked for and more, but still it hadn't been enough. All that was left now was WHY.

"Ah, the million dollar question." Jones paused, his rehearsed, perfectly honed speech at the ready. "You were good, Michael, I don't mind telling you. The best. But you had one weakness."

"Nikita." Michael stated with certainty, still not understanding why he was there (and not dead) other than to rehash his 'failures.'

"No. Nikita was, for lack of a better phrase, a symptom, not the disease." Jones contradicted, purposely using the past tense and that analogy specifically.

"Then what was the disease?" Michael asked as he knew was expected, but with little real interest.

"Your caring and feeling too deeply, of course. It's what got you into Section in the first place." Jones paused. "After the bomb blast your co-conspirators fled immediately, but you stayed behind. The police and the press made it out to look as though you stayed to watch the fruits of your labor, to gloat at the carnage created by the bomb you helped build. You didn't protest to the contrary. Even at sentencing when remorse might have spared you the death penalty, you didn't defend yourself or give up the others."

"What is your point?" Michael asked, blank stare in place, the pain of his past sins not as strong as it used to be, more recent sins taking their place.

"My point is that they were wrong." Jones answered patiently. "You didn't defend yourself for the same reason you didn't leave the scene. You cared about what happened and the families that suffered. So affected were you, you felt the death penalty was justified and when Section brought you in, you felt that was justified too."

"Why bring the distant past out now, it's over, but you know that."

"And how would I know that?" Jones asked, curious as to Michael's reply.

"George's neural scrapes. I'm sure you saw the data recovered and know exactly what my and others' present state of minds are."

"You *are* as good as I thought, maybe even better." An impressed Jones returned. "You're right of course. George's failed attempt, while unauthorized, proved very useful, indeed. Led us down our current path. Confirmed much that I suspected about One and some that I didn't."

Knowing his superior would not tell him anything anyway, Michael waited for Jones to continue his reminiscing.

"Yes." Jones continued. "George believed you would be a good leader for Section One and one day for Oversight after your stint as leader when Operations went to Center."

"A test?"

"Yes. Of you and Operations. You both acted according to profile." Jones stated, omitting exactly whose profile they followed, but pleased at his subordinate's ability to correlate and connect past events.

"Of course your subsequent actions changed George's mind. Defying Section time and again did not sell you as a company man. By the time he attempted the neural scrape, not even the knowledge that you had, but several short months before that, saved his life, would have helped you." Jones paused, noting with satisfaction the lack of emotion in Michael's countenance at another revelation of Center knowing all, secrets non-existent. "But, you knew this."

"Yes." Michael confirmed, remembering telling Nikita they wouldn't survive under George as his reason for helping Operations.

"I must say that I was surprised at the data recovered from your neural scrape, even the little that *was* recovered." Jones acknowledged Michael's successful 'block' of that particular plan of George's. "I would have thought that by then you would not have needed any further reminders of where emotion would lead."

"Reminders?"

"Yes. Reminders. Some planned, others just fortuitous circumstance. Simone, Adam - they were planned." Jones elaborated. "While Simone's capture and subsequent death was certainly not planned let alone ordered, it was just a matter of time and probability that she would be lost in the field. I miscalculated."

"In what way?" Michael asked dutifully.

"I thought your wife's death would prevent you from forming any more attachments. The Vacek mission was supposed to be confirmation of your successful education but instead showed that you failed to learn from Simone's fate. Nikita was originally Madeline's idea as was ordering you to have a child with Elena. She thought they would distract you. Turns out Madeline miscalculated as well. You grew attached to both." Jones paused as they neared the glass table outside the garden entrance of the Center. He sat down and waited for Michael to take his seat across the table before he continued. "Both Madeline and I misjudged you once more. We both counted on the endgame of your blood cover 'wiping out' residual emotions. Your suicidal attitude once closure was achieved and attempts at interfering with their subsequent protection along with your single mindedness to deprogram Nikita is what brought us here."

"Why?" Michael's economical one word question.

"Nikita was a last resort. She had been working for me for almost three years, but 'stepping up' your personal relationship was not mandated until it became apparent that you still hadn't learned from the past. You disobeyed your superiors, went rogue to deprogram her and used *me* as well as other Section resources to help you. As if that wasn't enough, you not only helped Nikita escape the Section, but you went with her." Jones finished listing Michael's transgressions in a matter of fact tone, befitting one who had achieved the desired outcome after long and careful planning.

"What's the point of all this?" Michael finally asked, having had enough of this conversation and just wanting to meet his fate, whatever it was.

"You always were a bottom line man. Fine then. It's simple." Jones paused. "I still need a replacement for George and you're the man."

"I don't understand." Michael admitted. He'd already figured out that he wasn't going to be cancelled, but he never expected this. From the conversation Michael had guessed that Jones was making sure that he'd learned his so called lessons so that he'd never repeat those same 'mistakes' in the future. His future, though, Michael had assumed was to be transferred to another Section, perhaps even head one. He did not suspect to be transferred to Oversight, let alone lead it.

"Truthfully, I'd have preferred you spend some time as a Section head first. But that's not going to happen. Paul is not ready for the advancement, perhaps he never will be. You are the only other choice."

"Why this endgame?" Michael asked referring to the abeyance mission he was placed on and the events that preceded it.

"Several reasons." Jones paused then gave Michael the only portion of the answer that affected him directly. "You needed to *finally* realize no attachments or strong emotions are viable and to trust and rely on no one but yourself and the cause. From what I've seen, it worked."

"Yes." Michael replied, almost smiling at the bitter irony.

"You realize, of course, that if I didn't believe in your continued commitment to the cause, you *would* be dead."

"What convinced you?" Michael asked, genuinely curious and already thinking about his possible future.

"I planted a sleeper in Red Cell. She was very convincing and reached considerable ranking."

"Satin." Michael surmised, the pieces falling into place. "That's why she was taken to Center."

"Yes. Your action and words to the young woman before she was taken away confirmed your continued belief in, if not loyalty to, the organization's cause." Jones paused. "It also confirmed Madeline and Paul needed to be separated."

"You have Madeline." Michael stated knowingly.

"How do you know she's alive?" Jones asked

"Does it matter?"

"No." Jones conceded, the issue not important enough to force an answer. "The point is Madeline is being transferred to Oversight. Will working with her be a problem?" Jones asked out of courtesy even though Michael's position on the matter was irrelevant at this point.

"Of course not. What would her role be?" Michael asked diplomatically.

"An advisor, not an equal." Jones smiled at Michael's tact. "Your second."

"I see." Michael returned, showing no reaction to the irony of being placed in charge of his tormentors.

"Good. Any questions?"

"Do I have a choice?" Michael asked even though he was sure of the answer.

"Of course. Cancellation is still an option." Jones supplied the answer Michael expected. "I'll be finalizing details of the personnel reconfiguration the rest of the day. We'll go over specifics tomorrow. In the meantime, Monique will show you around." Jones motioned to his assistant who was standing next to two large, burly operatives.

"When do I start?" Michael inquired.

"The day after tomorrow. The position has been vacant too long as it is. Feel free to enjoy the surroundings until then." Jones replied, then nodding at the two operatives warned, "But stay close to your bodyguards, we wouldn't want anything to happen to the new head of Oversight."

"Of course." Michael replied, watching Jones walk away and his new bodyguards fall into step behind him.

As he was being shown around, part of Michael's brain absorbed what he was seeing and hearing. Another part, though, was contemplating this turn of events. He 'heard' the unspoken threats and promises behind Jones' words. But Michael didn't need them, he'd already made up his mind. He'd take the promotion 'offered' and do whatever it took to make sure there would one day be no need for sacrifices like his and people like him, a better place for Adam to grow up in.

Jones was right. To achieve what he wanted, there was no room in his life for any thing, or any *one* else. ************************