He walked into the apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. His endgame was so close, he could taste it.

They had used and abused him for over a decade and now it was his turn. "They will pay." The green-eyed man vowed. "*All* of them."

One of 'them' had already paid, dead by her own hand, or so he thought. She was the lucky one, what he had in mind for the rest was going to be brutal. Ironically, most thought him dead, but he'd make sure they wished they were dead by the time he was through with them.

One by one they would fall. The only question was who first.

They had used and humiliated him for a long time but he never retaliated. He believed in what he was doing and stoically withstood all that they threw at him, waiting for the day he would finally be in charge and able to do things his way. He had been patient. Too patient.

They discredited him, humiliated him, stripped him naked for everyone to see his imaginary failings. He would never be in charge now, but he would have the last laugh. They had feared him before for no good reason other than paranoia, greed and thirst for power. They would fear him again, but this time be powerless to stop him.

An eye for an eye had become his motto, his mantra, over the four weeks that he had been thought dead. He had allowed himself one week of self-pity and reflection. On the eighth day he decided enough was enough and began planning his revenge. An eye for an eye. Discredit. Humiliate. Destroy.

Psychological and physical warfare were nothing new to him. No one was better in the field than him. The only one who could match wits with him was dead. Discredit. Humiliate. Destroy.

There were no more obstacles in his way, nothing holding him back. His son was taken care of. Section had all but abandoned the boy after Elena's accidental death. They left him in foster care with a minimum of protection. Michael found his son relatively easy and now had his own people watching him. People who owed Michael their lives and knew what failure to carry out their assignment successfully would mean to them and their families. They were there to make sure Adam stayed safe until it was time for the boy to disappear so he couldn't be used as a pawn once Michael made himself known.

His only remaining concern taken care of, Michael was ready for phase one.

********

Phase one - Discredit.

Michael was confident, not egotistical. And he was patient and persistent. He would work his way up the ladder to Center using Section One. There may have been other Sections and Oversight may have been higher up the ladder, but Section One was Center's pride and joy, the one held up as an example for all. Destroy the parent by going after the favorite child.

Discredit and humiliate The Agency by destroying Section One (to start with, at least). Easier said than done? No, not really.

Michael had discovered just the opposite in the past three weeks. He thought Center would have able replacements and contingencies in place as soon as Jones, the real Jones, had made his determinations. Instead, Michael found to his bitter amusement that the new personnel configuration was far from equal to, let alone superior over, the old one.

That would be their downfall.

It had been easier to tunnel into Section's systems than originally thought. They thought him dead, or at the very least far, far away. Without Birkoff, security wasn't as tight or as good as it used to be either. Quinn was good but, if Nikita, a field operative was able to do her job so successfully while impersonating her, well then, enough said.

Once in, Michael knew every part of Section better than almost anyone else. They couldn't keep him out when he was alive, they certainly couldn't keep him out now that he was 'dead.'

He had installed a few 'toys' throughout Section, just like had done two years ago to capture Philo. This time though, the toys would not be detected and he'd be able to monitor from the comforts of his own home. His spying had already paid off in the form of intel regarding an upcoming Section mission that was supposed to be an easy bag and grab. A test of the 'new' personnel's skills.

What Section didn't know yet was that the mission would not go according to profile.

********

Michael tapped into communications and listened in from the sidelines until he heard what he needed.

"Team one at first mark." Came team one leader's report.

"Team two?" O'Brien asked from the van.

"Closing in on second mark." Came the reply.

At that, Michael made his approach. The target's mercenary bodyguards were no match for two of Section's better teams so Michael was going to even the odds.

********

"Dunn, report." O'Brien tried again. Team two's point man had failed to report in at second mark. "Stone, take over point." O'Brien commanded, giving up on his original point man. "Watch out for Dunn."

"Found Dunn." Stone reported a few minutes later just as the entire compound flooded with bright searchlights exposing the two Section teams to the target's heavily armed guards.

"Abort. Return to van." O'Brien commanded with more calm than he felt. "How many explosives were planted?" He turned to Quinn.

"Enough to blow the compound." Quinn confirmed.

"Do it." Operations' angry voice came from the speakers. The compound was supposed to be destroyed after the target was acquired. Now the target would have to be canceled rather than acquired and they'd be lucky to get the team out alive.

********

"What the hell happened?" O'Brien asked Dunn once the teams returned to the van, miraculously no casualties, only wounded, from the sprint back to the van amidst the heavy artillery fire.

"I don't know. I was hit with a tranq. Next thing I know Stone is there."

O'Brien turned back to his screen, knowing there would be hell to pay upon their return. All he could do now was review the tapes and try to figure out how they were compromised by supposedly inferior personnel.

As the Section van took off, a lone black-clad figure stood expressionless just outside ground zero as the compound exploded in front of him.

Michael had succeeded. He had had to take out Dunn to ensure Section didn't infiltrate the compound and reach the target before he took out one of the bodyguards and planted him in front of the patrol to alert the rest of the men that there were 'intruders.'

Fortunately, even though Michael had already deemed him acceptable collateral if necessary, Dunn hadn't been sacrificed. He was one of many average operatives floating around the Section, never slotted for anything higher than level three. Still, it wouldn't have made his death any easier, just another name to add to the list of lives taken or destroyed thanks to Section politics.

********

"My office. Now." Operations' expected anger was directed towards O'Brien outside Van Access where he and Nikita were waiting for the returning teams.

"What the hell happened?" Operations asked as soon as the three arrived in the Perch.

"I don't know." O'Brien admitted candidly.

"You don't know." Operations echoed sarcastically, inwardly grimacing. In the old days, Michael would have had an answer and a new profile to fix the mistake by the time the team had returned. Then again, Michael probably would have fixed the mistake while still on site.

"Dunn was taken out of play."

"By who?" Nikita took over. It was her profile that had failed.

"One of the guards, I assume."

"Why would the guard tranq him?" Nikita asked.

"For interrogation." O'Brien answered.

"Then why was Dunn still there for Stone to find?" Nikita countered.

"The guard needed to sound the alarm first." O'Brien guessed.

"They didn't have radios?" Nikita asked skeptically.

"Don't know. We didn't get close enough to confirm." O'Brien answered. "Quinn was monitoring and there was no communication between the perimeter and interior guards while we were on site."

"I don't like anomalies or guesses." Operations spoke up and turned to both underlings, tired of the conversation. "Find out what did happen. I want answers in six hours."

********

As ordered, six hours later the exhausted pair of O'Brien and Nikita returned to the Perch with their report.

"I'm listening." Operations turned around and acknowledged their presence.

"There was a third party involved." Nikita began.

"How many uninvited guests?" Operations asked.

"Unknown." Nikita answered. "Dunn didn't see anyone and Quinn's scans were negative."

"Objective?" Operations asked.

"Target termination. Someone knew we wanted him alive and made sure that didn't happen."

"For what reason?"

"Self-interest." O'Brien joined the conversation. "Simms concurred."

"So," Operations surmised. "*Someone,* just how many someone's still unknown, not only knew we were coming, but took us out of play?"

"Yes." O'Brien grimaced at the little they'd found out.

"It wasn't internal?"

"Unlikely." Nikita fielded that one. "Team one and two's activities have been accounted for since the briefing as have Quinn's and O'Brien's."

"So that just leaves you and me." Operations mused.

"That's right." Nikita returned.

"Well, then assuming it wasn't either one of us, is there *anything* useful you can tell me?"

"Yes." Nikita replied adamantly. "It won't happen again." Come hell or high water, she'd make sure of it. There was no way she was letting an unknown enemy run about. If Section didn't succeed while she was on 'probation,' there was no way Center would allow her to implement the changes she had been promised.

Unbeknownst to any of them, Center, Oversight or Section, they were following *someone's* profile to the letter.

********

Four weeks later Section breathed a sigh of relief, no other anomalies had caused a mission to go south again like that. Further research had not unearthed anything new. The powers that be at Section (currently Operations and Nikita), with no evidence to the contrary, chalked it up to a third party with a grudge against the target. With each passing day and no new incidents, simms confirming the probability of a singularity rose until the number hit 98 percent where it remained for the past two and a half weeks.

Having always relied heavily on simms, Operations and his superiors concluded that 98 percent was as close to certainty as one can get and relaxed their guard a bit. Of course, simms were only as good as the people who ran them and plugged in the parameters.

There was someone out there who had calculated exactly how long it would be before Section 'forgot' the incident and moved on. Someone who knew them better than they knew themselves. Protocols, procedures, contingencies; he helped create them.

********

"Status?" Nikita requested, standing behind Quinn in comm.

"Mission goes live in fifteen." Quinn replied, noticing Nikita's agitation "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Nikita sighed, unwilling and unable to explain her unease.

"Sure. Nothing. Whatever." Quinn muttered and turned back to her screen. Nikita was not exactly her favorite person in Section, not since she impersonated Quinn for her Center mission.

"What's up?" O'Brien came up to Nikita, wondering why she was in comm as he was supposed to be the one providing tactical oversight on the upcoming mission.

"Nothing." Nikita smiled, hiding her unease. "I'll be in my office."

"Okay." O'Brien returned, confused.

"Don't ask." Quinn told O'Brien once Nikita was out of earshot, before he had a chance to ask. "I have no idea what her problem is and frankly, I don't care."

"Fine. Whatever." O'Brien muttered to himself making a note to talk to Nikita after the mission and find out what was bothering her.

********

"Charges set." O'Brien listened as Leetch, level five operative and team leader on this mission, informed his team, a warning to get clear of the incineration zone. "Two minutes to detonation." Leetch finished and began his own retreat.

So far the mission had gone as planned. Leetch's team had placed three charges while Leetch himself had placed the last and most significant one with no one inside the arms factory or outside watching the perimeter the wiser.

The Section team had waited until the trade meeting inside was in full swing before setting the charges. The arms dealer and his buyer thought this new factory (less than a week since production began) was still invisible. They were about to learn the hard way that it wasn't.

With all the 'changes' in Section, Leetch wasn't about to trust anyone with his part of the assignment. The fourth charge was the 'trigger,' once detonated it would set off the other three. Leetch, despite recent events, still prided himself on being one of Michael's 'students' and one of the first lessons he'd ever learned from the Section legend was, 'if you want something done right, you do it yourself.'

Adhering to that policy, Leetch had placed himself on point, responsible for the initial detonation. The factory and all inside were collateral, Operations wanted *everyone* caught in the explosion.

Leetch waited until the rest of his team reached the van then spoke into his comm unit while simultaneously pressing down on the detonator, "Charges detonated." The light turned green but the expected explosion never came.

"What's the delay?" O'Brien asked from comm, still waiting for satellite confirmation of the explosion.

"I don't know." Leetch returned, about to head back out and find out what the problem was. "Going back out."

"Hold." O'Brien countermanded from comm, watching as a DOD satellite picked up movement. "Abort." He ordered gruffly, ticked off that their window was gone and the mission a failure.

The movement the satellite had caught was actually the trucks leaving the factory with their cargo. Blowing the factory now would do them no good, both the buyer and the dealer were almost off site already.

"What about the charges?" Leetch asked, reluctant to give in to failure and a sure harangue upon return to Section.

"Forget it." O'Brien informed him. "They're untraceable, another raid into the perimeter is too risky."

As had happened a month ago, a lone figure stood just outside the 'playing field' watching the retreating Section team. This time he was holding a dismantled explosive.

********

"Another third party?" Operations asked his second in command sarcastically as she entered the perch.

"No." Nikita countered calmly. "Weapons malfunction."

"Are you sure?" Operations asked.

"Yes. There was no shadow running and nothing came up on thermal either." Nikita answered, still not completely sure that that's all it was but unwilling to inform Operations of her unease before the mission. She'd keep her feelings and opinion to herself until and if she proved otherwise.

"This isn't the first time." Operations commented, remembering another recent incident in which weapons had malfunctioned. "Perhaps replacing Walter was premature."

"It was the right decision at the time." Nikita replied tightly.

"Maybe he's spent enough time on the Farm and learned his lesson, so to speak." Operations countered then jabbed. "Besides, I seem to recall that his only serious breaches of protocol were on your, Michael or Birkoff's behalf. With the other two dead and you in the position you're in, I don't see why there would be any further problems."

"I'll see to it." Nikita's replied resigned, eyes flashing briefly before she slammed her own mask, something she learned from her former mentor, back into place. She agreed that Walter was still the best. She'd checked his progress on the Farm and knew he wasn't happy there, anyway. And perhaps, if he could forgive her, Nikita would have a friend in Section now after all.

********

Sitting in his apartment, not too far away, Michael was monitoring Section and smiled at the personnel move scrolling across his screen.

********

Two months later, in a Paris suburb.

"He's doing well."

"Remarkably well, considering his limited resources."

"Yes. Should I approach him?"

"Not yet. A little more damage is necessary for our plans to proceed smoothly."

"Very well." A pause then a diplomatic, if rather impatient question, unusual for the one asking. "How much more time do you think is needed?"

"Not long." A thoughtful pause. "Michael's humiliation of Section should bring our quarry out of isolation soon."

"Wouldn't it be more prudent to approach and gain his allegiance before then?"

"No." A counter. "We wouldn't want to tip our hand too soon. Don't worry, our boy is making our job that much easier. If he keeps this up, Jones will look like a fool for making the decisions he made and won't have any supporters left." A pause. "And Walter? Allowing Michael to manipulate his return was a risk."

"Perhaps." A smile. "But I don't think so. At this point he trusts Michael more than anyone in Section, including Nikita."

********

"This is unacceptable." Operations leaned back against the glass, having called in Nikita for a 'discussion' after he'd read the monthly report. "The inefficiency of this organization in the past four months is astounding."

"Sir…" Nikita began.

"Please don't blame this on a phantom third party." Operations interrupted. "There is nothing whatsoever to prove anything other than flawed strategies, profiles and execution." Operations added to his second in command.

"I wasn't about to." Nikita returned. "The original anomaly *was* a singularity."

"And the rest?"

"Section One's overall success rate has not dropped off all that significantly from six months ago." Nikita answered.

"I disagree." Operations returned. "While the POS may have not dropped *that* significantly, efficiency is down to an unacceptable level."

"An initial adjustment period was to be expected." Nikita defended.

"Four months and we're still not up to par. That goes beyond an 'initial adjustment period.'" Operations countered.

"Perhaps Section was ill-prepared to handle a purge." Nikita returned. "Perhaps Section should have trained its personnel better for such a contingency."

"Are you saying the personnel reconfiguration is not up to par?" Operations eyes flashed dangerously. "Before you answer that, perhaps *you* should remember who it was that ordered this reconfiguration in the first place."

********

"Make the approach." A voice commanded into the cell phone. "The squabbling has begun. Daddy dearest will have no choice but to make an appearance now."

********

Two hours later, the sun still high in the sky, Michael was in his remote location, having abandoned his apartment in favor of this secluded cabin where he could monitor the perimeter for any approaches.

Hearing the make-shift but still sate of the art security system go off, Michael put down the glass of milk he was drinking and strode purposely towards his laptop. Seeing that there was only one 'warm spot' Michael picked up his gun and waited to the side of the front window for his visitor to arrive.

Watching the sedan pull up to the porch and the driver emerge, Michael sighed in resignation, not completely surprised at having been found by another Section 'casualty.' His visitor walked slowly up the three steps, hands in plain sight, knowing full well that they were being observed and any sudden moves would not be in their best interest.

Opening the door, gun still at the ready as he was never a trusting man, and this person certainly was not someone who inspired trust to begin with, Michael stood in the doorframe, blocking entry and barely nodded in greeting.

"Michael." His visitor greeted in return, outwardly not at all perturbed by Michael's behavior.

"Why are you here?" Michael asked in greeting.

"We need to talk."

"Section no longer exists for either one of us." Michael returned. "Without Section we have nothing to discuss."

"I disagree." Madeline countered. "On both points."

"That's your prerogative."

"Your chess game with Section..." Madeline continued unperturbed, ignoring the interruption.

"Is none of your concern." Michael interjected, not giving Madeline the satisfaction of asking how she knew about it or how she found him.

"May I come in anyway?" Madeline persevered.

"If I say no?"

"There will be repercussions."

"Of course. There always are." Michael replied tiredly, holstered his gun and stepped aside, letting Madeline precede him into the house.

"You don't seem surprised by my reappearance." Madeline commented.

"Suicide is not in character." Michael replied.

"You think you know me that well?" Madeline asked, amused.

"As well as you think you know me." Michael parried.

"Touché."

"Can I get you anything?" Michael asked politely, playing host, resigned to the intrusion.

"No, thank you." Madeline replied sitting down in one of the two armchairs in front of the unlit fireplace. "Time is of the essence."

"For who?"

"All of us." Madeline replied.

"Does Operations know you're alive?" Michael asked curiously, wanting to know who and what he was up against.

"Not yet." Madeline, having spent years studying people, Michael included, noted the brief flicker he couldn't hide. "That surprises you."

"Yes." Michael admitted, realizing his reaction had been observed.

"It's necessary for the time being." Madeline explained. "His behavior in this situation is critical."

"How did you find me?" Michael changed the subject, knowing he wouldn't get more out of Madeline about Operations at this time.

"Nikita's allowing your cancellation was not in character." Madeline threw Michael's earlier words back at him. "And as you were not aware of the plan ahead of time, odds were that you would not take kindly to your forced exit."

"You're aware of my activities of the last four months?" Michael asked.

"Three, actually." Madeline admitted candidly, although she could guess at what he'd done for the first month or so of his forced freedom. "Monitoring Section's activities since the evaluation facilitated your being found."

"I see." Michael acknowledged, believing Madeline in this and relieved that they hadn't tracked him to Adam. "Why not bring me in? It may be your opportunity to return into the fold."

"If the original intent had been your cancellation then perhaps that option would have been viable."

"Meaning what?" Michael asked, confused.

"The real Mr. Jones didn't want you cancelled, just out of the way."

"Why?" Michael asked.

"You're a distraction." Madeline replied.

"To who?" Michael asked.

"His daughter."

"Nikita?" Michael pieced the puzzle together.

"Yes." Madeline confirmed then elaborated. "He wants her to take over."

"Section?" Michael asked.

"No." Madeline countered. "Center."

"Did Nikita know?" Michael asked the most important question on his mind, knowing how much it would reveal to Madeline, but needing to know just the same.

"No. He did not make himself known until recently." Madeline answered. "And Nikita has a lot to assimilate, I don't think she understands her father's motives yet."

"If he had had me canceled, Nikita would not forgive him. By allowing her to 'free' me he gives the illusion that he did her a favor." Michael surmised.

"Yes." Madeline confirmed. "That's the conclusion I've drawn as well."

"How did you learn all of this?" Michael asked, absorbing the facts with little fanfare, his years at Section accustoming him to even more unpleasant scenarios than what Madeline had shed light on.

"My… associate." Madeline answered.

"Who?" Michael asked, several possibilities coming to mind.

"That's something you don't need to know." Madeline replied. "Yet."

"Why not?"

"If you join us, all will be revealed."

"All?" Michael asked, a half smile of irony escaping.

"Yes." Madeline confirmed then added cryptically. "Things will be different this time."

"What motivation would I have for joining in whatever venture you're planning?"

"What are your long term goals for Section?"

"There aren't any." Michael replied.

"You have nothing more on your agenda than simple revenge?"

"Not so simple." Michael countered.

"Ah, yes." Madeline returned. "Section, Oversight, Center. You want them all to fall."

"Yes." Michael replied bluntly. "Your revelation merely confirms that the organization is too…political…to be effective."

"I disagree."

"Surely you're not defending the Agency. You were cast aside even more brutally than I was."

"Defending them, no." Madeline returned. "Merely exploring other options."

"What options?"

"Restructuring."

"Restructuring?" Michael asked. "At what level?"

"The highest." Madeline replied unabashedly.

"Ambitious."

"Motivated." Madeline countered. "As you said yourself, the internal politics have gone too far."

"As I remember it, you were…involved… in the internal politics." Michael returned with a hint of bitterness.

"What I did was for the betterment of Section, nothing more, nothing less." Madeline defended.

"I disagree." Michael echoed Madeline's earlier words. "Either way, why should I believe that the games would stop with new leadership?" Michael asked, not bothering to inquire about Madeline's profile, knowing she wouldn't be here if she hadn't had her 'coup' all planned out already.

Before Madeline could reply her cell phone rang. Manners dictated waiting for her host's approval before she let the call interrupt their conversation. At Michael's almost imperceptible nod, Madeline picked up her phone and spoke into the receiver.

"Yes." Madeline greeted.

"There's too much mistrust. He won't agree without us laying all the cards on the table." The caller responded, Madeline's audio feed from her phone enabling the caller to listen in on her and Michael's conversation.

"No, he won't." Madeline agreed, keeping any hint of an 'I told you so' out of her tone.

"Very well." The caller returned, resigned. "Bring him in, rendezvous point alpha."

"Are you certain?" Madeline asked, wanting final confirmation that they were in complete agreement about bringing Michael fully into their plans.

"Yes." The caller replied without hesitation and then hung up.

Madeline turned to Michael after disconnecting her call. "That was my associate. We are finally in agreement that the best way to gain your…cooperation…is to meet and discuss our plans."

"Just like that?" Michael asked skeptically.

"Yes." Madeline replied then added. "Granted I haven't given you any reason to trust me recently, but I *am* nevertheless asking you to do so."

"Why?" Michael asked, the one word asking two questions.

"If our plan is to succeed, trust is key. It's the reason I came alone, to your territory, rather than send retrieval teams."

"You still have access to retrieval teams?" Michael asked, knowing Madeline could be bluffing about her resources.

"Not as good as Section's, but more than enough quantity to compensate for the lack of quality." Madeline replied. "As for the other part of your question, you've earned more than just revenge and it's about time you took the opportunity."

"Since when have you been a proponent of my rise in the chain of command?"

"Since you've shown that you didn't want a 'promotion' until those in command were ready to give it to you." Madeline replied candidly.

"Is that what this is?" Michael asked. "A promotion?"

"No." Madeline countered. "A partnership."

"A partnership." Michael echoed, not quite believing the older woman, but interested enough to listen.

"Yes."

"Let's go." Michael surprised Madeline. The truth of the matter was that he'd done what he'd set out to do, Section was in imminent danger of being disenfranchised, their performance at unacceptable levels. Section One was the strongest link in the chain, if it fell the rest of the organization would soon follow, even without his 'help.'

Madeline was correct in one of her assumptions. Other than destroying Section and keeping Adam out of harm's way, Michael didn't have any long term plans. He was curious as to what Madeline had in mind for him.

"Fine." Madeline returned, standing.

On their way out, Michael shrugged on his leather jacket, covering his shoulder holster. Ever since his early days in Section, unless he was on a mission that necessitated otherwise, he never went anywhere unarmed.

If this *did* turn out be a trap, Michael would be ready. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do, the rest didn't matter. The ride was short and quiet, only two words spoken during the entire trip. Michael had pulled out his own cell phone, punched in a long series of numbers then spoke only two words. "Be ready."

Those two words had been a signal for his men to be ready to take Adam, the possibility of 'trouble' a reality. Michael knew that if something were to happen at this 'meeting' his son would still be safe. The men responsible for his child's safety wouldn't let him down. They couldn't, the consequences of failure, regardless of Michael's continued existence, were too high. Michael's contingencies had included provisions for his own death.