For Nikita, Michael’s love for his family had been a revelation. Even though Nikita knew Michael loved her, he had chosen honor over passion. He had chosen not to betray his innocent wife and the mother of his child. She realized their night together in Lyons had been an aberration-a momentary loss of control, that Michael later regretted. He had also regretted the night they had made love on the mission. She had pushed and he had made excuses. She remembered the expression on his face the next morning when he had said: “It was a mistake.” They both knew he wasn’t talking about the mission.

She had been hurt by his sudden reluctance to continue what they had started, but now it made perfect sense. Michael was protecting everyone he loved-herself included, at the expense of his own heart.

January 14, 1998 (Written) There are problems with Nikita again. Walter and Madeline were amused, but Operations came near to having her cancelled. She repainted her quarters with what she calls “emotional art”-graffiti is what Operations called it. She seems to know the exact buttons to press with Operations and I can’t seem to make her understand the dangers in doing so.

Sometimes I do not know what to make of Nikita. She’s strong, quick, takes directions well-well, most of the time. She’s intelligent, gets along with her peers, beautiful,--the list of superlatives are endless. She’s without doubt the best I’ve ever trained-male or female, but she’s rebellious and oddly, one of the most sympathetic people I’ve ever met. She not only sticks up for herself, she’s constantly getting between operatives and their mistakes. She protects the others like a mother protecting her children. Even Madeline has commented on it.

I have seen her take the blame for another’s mistake on several occasions, but what I can’t explain is, why? This from a woman who committed cold-blooded murder? I’ve reviewed her files extensively, and still can find no answer to this conundrum.

* * *

“Nikita came to visit me this morning,” Madeline began as Operations entered her office.

Her gave her a knowing smirk before asking, “And?”

“She has a plan to rescue Michael.”

“Is it any good?” Operations sat down on the edge of Madeline’s desk.

His intrusion into her space was mildly irritating, but Madeline overlooked it and answered, “Quite good actually.”

Operations chuckled. “So, you were right. We can use their relationship to get what we want.”

“The more we keep them apart, the harder, and more inventive they become,” Madeline noted.

Operations gave a little nod of his head. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

Madeline gave him a muted smile, “Something like that.”

“Good. Send me the profile.”

“I’ve already had Birkoff download it to your screen,” Madeline continued.

* * *

Undated (written) Adam said his first word today-I wasn’t there to hear it, but Elena said he said Da-da. How he even knows who I am, when I’m so rarely home, would be a mystery, except I know Elena talks to him about me constantly.

I had hoped for some down time this weekend, but something’s come up. Nikita again. Operations wants her cancelled because he feels she will never fit into Section. I disagree. Her scores are too good to lose her, especially over something as inane as youthful rebellion.

Operations threatened to tie her success to mine-she fails, I fail-so be it. We’ll both know if she has what it takes after this evening. When she passes her finals, she’ll be given full status. I’ve already had housekeeping move her clothes into her assigned apartment. As soon as I drop her there, then I should be able to go home for a couple of days. I hope Adam can repeat Da-da for me.

Nikita’s thoughts returned to that night. She’d been crushed to learn having dinner with Michael had only been a test of her skills. Worse, she was bereft when he made it clear he wanted his coat back so he could leave. Now she smiled and shook her head. Who could have competed with a baby saying his first word?

Undated (video) My God, Nikita’s an innocent. It’s the only explanation that fits all the variables. I didn’t want to believe it-she even told me to my face, but I wasn’t listening. I was too busy trying to discipline her over that disastrous first mission.

It wasn’t until I saw her pull the trigger, and saw her face that I realized the truth. It seems impossible. She has all the instincts, the strengths to be an outstanding operative-except the will to kill. If I can’t train that into her---her life is already hanging by a thread and Operations is patiently waiting for an excuse.

“Oh, Simone. Sometimes I see bits of you in Nikita. She’s strong and honest, like a breath of fresh sea air. You’d like her, my love. She likes to laugh. And she’s kind. I just didn’t want to believe it.

What could her life have been? What have we stolen from her? I don’t know how to make right, what has gone so terribly wrong, but I have to try. For your sake, Simone, and for hers. For our life that might have been, I have to salvage something of value out of Section.

Nikita paused the video. It hurt to watch the sincerity in his face and remember all the awful things she had thought, felt and said about him, those first few years. And all this time, he had never once defended himself against her accusations.

“So why now, Michael? Why are you letting me know all of this now?” She said with some frustration. The answer came immediately through a quiet inner voice-‘Because now, it doesn’t matter. Because Michael isn’t expecting to return and he’s leaving all that is left of himself to you.’

The very idea that Michael had given up horrified her! He wasn’t even going to try and come back! But why?

Was Walter wrong? Was Michael not coming back to her?

“Damn you, Michael! I’m not ready to give up yet!” She shouted through tears. She slapped at the computer keys and continued the video.

Undated (video) Nikita was shocked to see Michael looking so haggard. He’d been crying-

“Oh, God-Simone . . .” Nikita whispered.

“My love, . . . I can’t believe I’ve lost you twice. I can’t. . . What you must have suffered. I thought my heart had healed a little, but it’s ripped apart again. There’s nothing left of it. Nothing.

Why Simone? Why would you not come back to me? Why?”

Something in the background beeped and Michael’s eyes squeezed shut. He turned, waited for a brief moment, then spoke one softly-formed word, “Yes?” A moment passed, and he added, “Of course.”

When he turned his face to the screen again, the mask that he carried had fallen into place once again and the screen went dark.

Nikita turned off the screen. There was just so much she could take in a day. She went up to her bedroom, turned off the lights, kicked off her shoes and fell into bed fully clothed.

She rolled over, searching for a trace of his scent on her pillows. Finding it, she washed it with tears.

October 5, 1998 (Written) Nikita gave my life back to me, in a cup of coffee, sweetened with her kindness.

How do you manage it, Nikita? How have you kept yourself whole, here in hell? Is it the purity of your soul? Is it because you have no sins to weigh you down like the rest of us? And why be kind to me?

I know there have been times that you have hated me-the things I do, at least. Yet, I fear you are beyond hate. How can you survive without it? How will you?

I went home tonight and held my son close. I still have Adam. It took Nikita to make me remember that. I almost told her about him. Almost.

She was kind enough to listen to me speak of Simone instead.

November 20, 1998 (Written) “Ah, Nikita. How can I save you from yourself? Your heart rules your head, gentle heart that it is. I can’t let you run-it’s a trap. Like all things in Section. But deception is foreign to you. You believe too easily. You trust with your entire being. How can I teach you without breaking your spirit?

You must be taught to survive, even if the lesson is a painful one. There are few things that I have left to value. Your courage is one of them.

We must begin a game. If I win, I lose your friendship. If I lose, I lose what little light there is left in Section. Forgive me if I choose to keep the light.”

November 22, 1998 (Written) “She asked me if I had come to seduce her. Yet, I’m the one who was seduced.

She was like water to my thirst. I touched her and burned. I’m stunned at my own reaction. I didn’t know I could ever feel this way again.

Nikita. My thoughts make me dizzy. How could I have been such a fool to have told you the truth? Was I expecting your gratitude for saving your life? What right do I have to covet that?

But I never thought to make you cry.

Undated (Written) Everyday Nikita amazes me more. She’s lying in medlab, badly beaten at my hands, and yet has enough compassion left to plead for the person responsible.

“Let her believe,” she said.

It doesn’t matter that the woman is a mass murderer-Nikita can only see a woman who loves a child that she has lost.

She told me her own mother would have let my team beat her to death!

For not letting it come to that-for your sake, Nikita, I will” let her believe.”

Undated (Written) I can’t sleep. I told Elena it was the dreams again-it was the truth and a lie.

She’s heard the worst of them, but my dreams have become centered around Nikita. I am more fearful now of words I may say in my sleep. Elena deserves better.

How can I grieve over losing what I have never had? Nikita’s current involvement with Gray Wellman eats at me daily. Despite warnings, she has continued to see him. Part of me wants her to be happy; part of me wishes Wellman into the deepest hell.

Months ago her heart was caught, but I always knew when she learned the truth about Chandler, she’d hate what he was. But Gray is an innocent, a good man who loves her. How can I fight that? Should I even want to? Doesn’t Nikita deserve to be loved?

Madeline has come to me with her concerns. She suspects my feelings in this area, but to confirm them is to give her a weapon against me. Yet, sooner or later, I know Wellman will endanger Nikita’s position in Section. How do I save her without hurting her more?

Undated (Written) She was worried. My heart stopped with those words. I thought I’d never see Nikita again-anyone again. That first night, the only thing that keep me going was the memory of her calling my name as the team left me behind.

God forgive me, but I gave no thought to Elena. They told her my plane went down in South America and they were searching for it. It was a convenient way to explain my absence and my wounds.

And Angie. A good woman who died saving us all. I’m sorry I couldn’t have saved you somehow, but I will always be grateful for your friendship. You gave me back to my wife and son, and to Nikita. If there is a heaven, you must be in it.

January 5, 1999 (Written) It wasn’t all a lie. You won’t forgive me and I don’t blame you. But it was the truth.

You hate me and you hate yourself for breaking. It was your heart that broke Nikita, for my sake.

In that moment of time, I rejoiced even though I knew the outcome would be bitter. Was I in your heart for very long, my love?

That you would give up all for me was piercingly sweet. I am damned by it. I found your love and lost it the same hour.

Is there enough forgiveness left in your heart, to let me back in? All I can do is hope. It’s all I have left.

March 4, 1999 (Written) God Nikita! Are you alive? Did I save you or lose you?

I’ve checked hourly for days now. Are you there? Are you safe? Perhaps I don’t deserve to know. This is my punishment for wanting you. You were never mine to have.

But to never know? Nikita please! A bullet would be kinder than this not knowing!

Where are you, love? Where are you?

* * *

“You ready, Sugar?”

“Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Nikita answered as Walter injected a subcutaneous tracker under her arm.

“Remember, if you have to disable the tracker for any reason, all you have to do is run this strong magnet along your skin. Got that?” He handed her a magnet built into a bracelet.

“Got it.” She slipped the bracelet into her purse.

“Be careful, Sugar.”

Nikita winked at him and started to walk away, then staggered slightly and grabbed blindly for the edge of his workbench.

“Nikita!” Walter caught her by one arm. “You okay?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve been feeling weak, tired a lot lately. Stress, I guess.”

Walter pressed his lips together, then took a hypodermic and ordered, “Roll up your sleeve.”

“What for?”

“I wanna get a blood sample.”

“Why?”

“I have a suspicious mind.” Walter said grimly.

“Ow! I don’t have time for the results, Walter. I have to go.”

“If I find anything, I’ll contact you. Be especially careful, Sugar.” He warned.

Nikita nodded, picked up her weapon and left for van access.

* * *

“Good news, Michel!” Savim linked her arm through Michael’s. Monseiur Nidal is arriving within the next day or two. Papa believes it is to see the tests of your new gas and to give us more funding!” She gave his arm a squeeze and released it. “I’ll see you at supper!”

Michael smiled at her, while his heart raced. He was almost out of time! As he waved to the exiting Savim, his mind was farther away-back to the last meeting he had had with Operations.

“Did you enjoy your downtime?” Operations began, as Michael entered his office.

Michael had nodded, annoyed that Operations had brought it up, but thankful for the three days with Nikita none the less. His chances of returning alive were poor and he knew it, but Nidal was a prize that would elevate him into a more powerful bargaining position with George. His ultimate goal was freedom from Section for himself and Nikita. Failing that, becoming the head of Section One, would give them almost as much freedom. Capturing Nidal alive would certainly help him reach one or the other of his goals.

“When do you leave for Cairo?”

“In a few minutes. Madeline said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, something else has come up.” Operations handed Michael a disc, and continued. “While you are in Nidal’s labs, there is something we want you to find.”

“What is it? Chemical or biological?”

“Biological. What we want is the antidote to a biological weapon we captured in Iraq during the Gulf War. The weapons itself acts like a slow poison, causing a variety of health problems, over a period of several weeks, until body functions suddenly begin to shut down. We know there is an antidote and we think Nidal’s group has it.”

“Is this a priority? I am already running a double mission.” Michael said, slipping the disc into his pocket. Operations gave him an evil grin, “Too much to handle, Michael? After all, Nidal is a long shot.”

Operations was baiting him for some reason, so Michael didn’t answer. He knew Operations would get to the point eventually, if only to have the last word on the subject.

“I’m letting you set the priority, Michael, but you should know that Nikita is infected, along with half the team from the Bergomi mission.”

* * *

Michael felt like Operations had tossed him a percussion grenade. Michael had sent Nikita on the Bergomi mission-a mission that Operations had practically ordered him not to get involved with. And now, he had at most, hours to find the antidote. He stared down at the small computer in front of him in frustration and despair. Nidal was practically in reach, and yet, without the antidote, without Nikita alive at his side, it was all pointless.

He had one card left to play-Savim. Her adoring father gave her access to the entire lab. Through her, he should be able to locate the information on the antidote. Her growing infatuation with him was helpful, but distasteful.

Michael had always loathed valentine missions. His hatred of them had grown while married to Simone-knowing she was with other men-knowing she knew he had been with other women. Now that he was in his heart promised to Nikita, the idea of taking another woman to bed was doubly repugnant, but Nikita’s life came first. Nothing mattered to him now, but the antidote.

* * *

“Walter, what is it you need?” Madeline said pleasantly.

“I uh, there’s a problem with a mission.”

“Really? Which mission?” Madeline, turned from her computer, focusing her entire attention on Walter.

“Nikita’s mission is at risk.”

“In what way?”

Walter almost blurted out his suspicions, but decided caution would be the better course of action.

“I ran some tests. Nikita’s ill.”

Madeline sighed and shook her head, “She dying, Walter.”

He fell back into a nearby chair, his face chalk-white, “So you do know!”

“And you think I had something to do with it,” Madeline continued coolly, her arms now folded across her chest.

“Well, didn’t you?” He accused angrily.

“Actually, no. In fact, you can lay this one at Michael’s doorstep.”

“What?”

“She and half of the team that survived the Bergomi mission came back infected with a some kind of bio-engineered pathogen in their systems. If Michael had listened to Operations, this never would have happened.”

“Well, if you knew she was sick, why the hell is she on assignment?”

“She volunteered Walter and her plan doubles the chances of Michael getting out alive-with or without Nidal.”

“Does she know?” He asked faintly.

“No, but Michael does. Walter, if Michael succeeds-and he has the best reason in the world now to do so, we will have Nidal, the antidote, one less enemy lab to deal with, and a live Nikita.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we have overestimated both of them, and will have lost two of the best operatives Section has ever produced.”

Walter stood and went sadly to the door.

“Walter.”

He turned towards Madeline as she added, “Michael’s life depends on Nikita’s success and her life depends on his. I’m betting they won’t fail each other.”

* * *

With a deep sigh of exhaustion, Nikita’s head nestled into the seat of the aircraft taking her to Cairo. It had been a long morning, getting prepped for the mission. It was going to be an even longer next few days.

She looked up at a light tap on her shoulder. It was fellow operative, and traveling companion, Ken Stillman dressed in Arab attire.

“Hey, you want anything to drink?” he whispered.

“I would if I could figure out how to drink with this veil on.” Her eyes, now brown with contact lens, smiled up at him wearily.

He chuckled and winked, “I think you have to tuck the glass under somehow.”

“I may have to eat in the bathroom as it is,” she whispered back. “No thanks, on the drink, though. I’m going to take a nap. It may be all the rest I get for a while.”

Ken squeezed her shoulder in response and nodded. “Sweet dreams then.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Ken was one of the few operatives she trusted with her life. One of Walter’s five-percent club for sure.

Traveling as a woman in a Moslem world had posed a few problems, her cumbersome clothing hardly the least of them. Without male escort, there was no way for her to travel safely without someone getting suspicious, so Ken was now her “dear Cousin Abdullah”.

If things went according to plan, Michael’s suitcase tracker would lead her right to where he was staying. Posing as his betrothed bride should get her unlimited access to see him, she hoped. The rest would have to be worked out in stages with Michael’s assistance.

The non-lethal sleeping gas was stashed into a large perfume bottle in her purse. With it, she and Michael could put to sleep everyone in the lab, including Nidal. Two small aerosol cans disguised as hairspray and mousse were actually two canisters of oxygen-ten minutes worth. She and Michael would have ten minutes to drag Nidal out, and sabotage the lab and release the lethal gas Michael was working on.

If, of course, all went as planned. Nikita fell asleep dreaming of seeming Michael again.

* * *

“Supper was delicious, as always.” Michael commented as he sipped his wine.

Dr. Guillory beamed, “Yes, my daughter is a fine cook, like her mother was.”

Savim blushed with at the praise and excused herself to check on dessert.

“May I ask, is there a man in your daughter’s life?” Michael inquired softly.

Guillory’s smile grew larger. “Not at the moment. Why do you ask?”

“Could I beg your permission to see her, outside of work?”

Guillory laughed, “You’ll have to speak to my daughter about that. She may dress Moslem, but her ideas about courtship are purely Western.”

Michael forced a smile in return. “I shall ask her, but in Algeria, it is customary to ask the Papa first.”

Guillory gave Michael a short bow and poured more wine in Michael’s half-empty glass. “Then you have Papa’s permission.”

“Thank you,” Michael returned. “Then with your permission, there is a concert at my hotel this evening. I promise to have her home by midnight.”

“If Savim accepts, you have my blessing.”

Nikita stifled a groan as Ken helped her from the taxi in front of the building where Michael was staying. They had been traveling for well over ten hours-first by plane, then by car, by camel-crossing the border illegally, and then by car again.

Ken paid the driver-another Section operative-and led the way into the hotel. Nikita grumbled as he passed, “I think that camel did me in. I ache all over.”

“Courage Nikita! This place looks like it may have hot running water.”

“What time is it?” She whispered as they walked inside.

“About eight,” Ken parked her on a small couch in the lobby. “Wait here, I’ll inquire about Michael’s room.”

Nikita watched Ken as he inquired at the desk in Arabic for information, then froze as she saw Michael enter the building with a young woman clinging to his arm. The woman’s attitude was certainly not businesslike and Nikita realized with alarm, her entire scenario was in jeopardy.

Quietly, so as not to bring attention to herself, she went over to Ken, and took him by the hand.

“Change in plans,” she nodded in Michael’s direction. He and the girl had entered the elevator.

“Okay, what’s the new plan?” The look on Ken’s face indicated he completely understood the new set of circumstances.

“Do you know which room Michael is staying in?”

“Yes, room 404.”

“Okay, now I’m not his bride to be-just a cousin, as you are-here to give him the bad news that his grandfather is taken ill. Get us two rooms on that floor and hurry. We’ve got bad news to impart.”

Ken nodded, and went back to the desk and did as she asked.

“Go.” Nikita ordered quietly.

Ken nodded then knocked on Michael’s door sharply.

Savim jumped in Michael’s arms. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.” He released her and waited until she straightened her hair and covered it, before going to the door.

“Yes?”

“Michel, . . .” the rest of the conversation was so low, Savim couldn’t hear.

Michael quickly scanned a small sliver of paper Ken had pressed into his hand. It read:

Your cousin’s Nikita and Abdullah are here-bad news-grandfather’s ill-need to talk immediately.”

Michael rolled the paper into a small ball and slipped it into his pocket. “Please, come in Abdullah.”

Savim rose to greet the visitors, nervously touching her hair to make sure it was in place.

“Savim, this is my cousin Abdullah and my cousin Nikita. They have brought me some bad news. My grandfather is very ill, perhaps dying.”

“Oh, I am so sorry Michel,” she said. “Perhaps I should go.”

“I’m sorry, I promised you a concert. . .” Michael let his words hang.

“There will be other times,” she said, sweetly disappointed.

“Let me take you to your car,” he turned to Ken, “I’ll return in a moment. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

* * *

Michael found Nikita waiting for him alone when he returned.

“Hi,” she said softly, removing her veil and headdress. “Miss me?”

He kissed her passionately, twice, in answer to her question before gently demanding, “What are you doing here?” as he held her in his arms.

“You neglected to tell me you didn’t have a exit strategy,” she said dryly, against his shoulder.

“I have a way out---there’s a safe house.”

“If Nidal shows up,” she corrected.

“He’s scheduled to be here tomorrow or the day after.”

“Then you think we can get him?” Nikita asked with a hug.

“Not we, me. It’s too dangerous, that’s why I was sent in alone.”

“I’m too tired to argue, Michael, but I’m not leaving without you.” She released him and reached into her purse. “Study this-I reworked the profile. Madeline and Operations both approved it.”

Michael sat her carefully on his bed, reached around her and pulled down the covers. “I’ll study, you sleep.”

She yawned and smiled sleepily. “Sorry, I broke up your date.”

“I’m not,” he replied, with a kiss. “Your timing was perfect.”

“Lie down with me for a little,” she said, touching his face. “I’ve missed you.”

Michael stretched out next to her, and stroked her hair away from her face with the tips of his fingers. “Missed you too,” he said, watching her struggle to stay awake. With concern he asked, “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Just a little tired. . . long trip. Rode a stupid camel,” she gave a short laugh, “Got sea-sick.”

“Rest, love.” He kissed her cheek.

“’Kay” she whispered as she drifted off.

He watched her sleep, lost in fearful thoughts. Tomorrow he had to locate the antidote, even if it was all he could salvage from this mission-Nidal be damned!

* * *

“Savim,” Michael entered the lab early the next morning. With one finger he gently stroked her cheek. “Good morning.”

Savim blushed. “Bonne matin, Michel.”

“Again, I am sorry about last night.”

“Will you be leaving to see your grandfather?”

“Yes, but it must wait until Mr. Nidal arrives and before that happens, I would like to review the safety procedures in the lab, to include which personnel have been inoculated against which biological agents. I want his visit to be without incident of any kind. He is too important to our work.

Savim smiled, “Of course. The records you need are here.” She typed into a computer terminal.

Michael returned her smile, then added upon scanning the list of agents. “There are a few items here that I haven’t been inoculated against! This is an impressive list!”

She gave him a concerned look, “Which ones Michel?”

“A few. Do we have the inoculations available on site?”

“Absolutement!”

“What about antidotes for biological agents-are they on site as well?”

She nodded. “Come, I’ll show you where everything is kept.”

“Bon!” he gave her a huge smile.

She led him into an adjoining room and into a walk-in refrigerator. “All the vaccines are in this cabinet, coded by type. Antidotes are over on this side, also coded by type.” She handed him a clipboard.

“Excellent. I will begin here by checking the stock for viability and availability. I’ll also need a list of our personnel inoculation records. Do you think you could get that for me?” He slipped an arm casually around her waist.

She blushed again, and after looking around, kissed his cheek. “Oui. I’ll return in an hour.”

He returned the kiss and watched her as she left to do his bidding.

* * *

Nikita paced the floor waiting for Michael’s call. With little to do besides wait, she shuffled over to where Michael’s laptop sat on a table and inserted one of his precious journal discs.

(Undated, written) It’s been a month of years. To believe that she is dead is to believe I am truly and eternally damned. I feel I would know if she was gone, but if that’s true, why won’t she respond?

I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I nearly got my entire team killed this afternoon, and worse, I didn’t care.

Nikita, where are you? Are you happy? Are you safe? Can’t you spare me two words? Did you hate me so much that you would leave me in this hell all alone?

(Undated video) Michael touched the screen of his computer with his fingertips, then sat back and began to speak. Ah, Nikita. I dreamed of you last night. It was a good dream for a change-a sweet miracle to have you in my arms.

I still can’t believe you are gone. This morning my heart stopped beating when I thought I saw you-but it was only a new operative with long, blond hair. Hope turned to ashes when she turned and it wasn’t your face I saw. It wasn’t even a rational hope-I find it hard to be rational anymore.

Elena, my poor Elena, she senses something’s wrong and tries hard to comfort me, but truthfully, if not for Adam, . . . a bullet in the brain would be a kindness.

Nikita paused the disc, remembering how often she had been tempted to call him. The truth was, she had been afraid to trust him-to trust anyone. She thought freedom was all she needed, but freedom rings hollow when you’re alone and friendless.

She hadn’t known what to expect when she escaped that night. After the brief euphoria of finding her freedom, had come self-doubt and nightmares of recapture. She feared to make friends, and other than when she had to work, she never ventured out of her apartment. In the end, she was just as much a prisoner as she had been in Section, with one major difference-Michael wasn’t there.

She hadn’t realized until that moment what comfort she had taken in his presence. Even though he kept his distance, he always seemed to be protectively close.

Nikita smiled sadly when she thought of Michael’s momentary desire for a bullet in the brain. He had saved her from doing that very same thing herself. It was a savored memory, even now. His arrival at her apartment, his arms around her, his words. . . ‘I wish things could be different. . .’

Looking back, it had been almost a declaration of love. Michael had loved her, but had not been free to love her. Now she knew what it had cost him to let her go.

(Undated, written) She’s alive or my dreams have found solid form with which to haunt me. I saw her, a brief moment in time. In Lyons, so very close and yet so far. Nikita, once more, just once more I will try. I just want to see your face again and know that you are all right. That’s you’re real.

It’s all I ask-all I dare to ask. Oh Nikita, are you there? Please be there.

(Undated, written) Nikita. How can I tell you how I feel? I want to tell you that I love you, but I cannot. I have a wife and a son---once a mission, but now my life. What can I tell you, when I have no right to say anything. How can I hurt them? How can I hurt you?

Our night on the boat was a mistake-of my making. I just needed you so much. I gave you hope, and fanned embers in my own heart. I’ve wounded us both, Nikita, but God forgive me, I wouldn’t change what happened between us. Instead of dreams, I now have memories. It’s something to cling to, even knowing the price it will cost us both.

Isn’t it ironic that I have you back and can’t have you? And all the words I have for you are to be patient. You didn’t understand and you won’t, and I can’t even explain.

I was selfish to want you back in Section. Forgive me love.

(October 17, written) It’s a dangerous game you play, Nikita, with my heart and your life. Section is nothing to be trifled with and neither is Jurgen. Why can’t I make you see that? You form alliances without giving thought to the dark world in which we exist. If you must trust someone, trust me.

If not, then trust no one.

(Undated, video) I came by your apartment to see you. It was a mistake in more ways than I can name, but I couldn’t help myself. The old saying-like a moth to a flame means a lot more to me now. Passion begging immolation. (Michael’s expression was ironic.) I suppose I should have expected it, but I was unprepared to see Jurgen there. I wanted to kill you both in that instant. I am still reeling from the incredible surge of jealousy I felt. . . . as if I have any right to be jealous.

I know I can’t have you. I tell myself hourly, but your flame still attracts. I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I could explain why we can’t be together-about Elena, about my son, but even if I could, what would it achieve? You’d only hate me more.

I once told you I wished things could be different, but wishing changes nothing. This is the hell I’ve constructed for myself and I must live in it. But, love, be careful. Jurgen has the power and the will to destroy us both. We were once close friends then rivals over Simone, and he has never forgiven me for marrying her.

No man likes to lose in love and Jurgen is no different than I am. He won’t mean to hurt you, but he will.

Nikita was startled at that revelation. Michael and Jurgen were friends? She nodded to herself. It made perfect sense now: how the two had argued, the non-lethal fight between them, when either man was deadly enough to kill the other. They were friends who had hurt each other, yet both were willing in the end, to die for the other. Michael had fully intended to die that night-knowing he would leave a wife and son to mourn him, just so she and Jurgen could be together. Had Jurgen not shot Michael and gone in his stead. . . . Nikita shivered at how close she came to losing Michael forever.

* * *

Michael inserted a hypodermic into the antidote, drew out two cc’s of amber fluid, capped the needle and slipped it into his coat pocket. Finishing that, he downloaded all the data on the antidote and the other viruses onto a disc. Then he pocketed the disk and went to find Savim. He found her with her father in the main lab.

“Michel! Savim tells me you are checking inoculations.” Guillory said, holding a computer print-out. When Michael reached his side, he handed the printout to him.

“Oui. I want everything in order before Monseiur Nidal arrives, including the safety records of all lab personnel. I’d also like to check everyone’s gas masks to make sure they are in good working order.”

“Mr. Bell said you were a thorough man.” Guillory chuckled. “Ah, Savim told me of your grandfather. Is the news very bad?”

“He’s dying, but he’s a very old man. I’ve been expecting this for several months now.”

“Still, it is hard news, I’m sure.”

Michael nodded then asked. “Any word on when Mr. Nidal is to arrive?”

“Tomorrow afternoon-the exact time won’t be given for security reasons.”

“Of course, but that means I have a little more time to make sure everything is in order.”

“Then you will be leaving us for a while?”

“Yes. A brief trip home to see him, once more, if that is all right?”

“Of course it is. In the meantime, Savim can help you with the safety checks.”

“I would like to ask a favor. My cousin Abdullah must make arrangements for us to travel home, that means leaving my other cousin Nikita alone. As her only other male relative here, would it be all right if I brought her with me tomorrow so we might save some time on the way to the airport.”

“I don’t see why not.” Guillory answered pleasantly as he left them alone. “She can wait in my office.”

“Will I be seeing you this evening, Michel?” Savim asked as her father disappeared through the door.

“I’m sorry, not tonight. I promised Abdullah to escort Nikita this evening.” Michael caressed her cheek in apology. “When I get back, we will have plenty of time to spend together.”

“I shall keep you to your promise.” She responded with a smile. “Now, we best get to work.”

* * *

"What are they doing?" Michael asked as Savim stopped him in the hall.

He pointed to two men searching one of the lab assistants as he was on his way out the door.

"Father thought it best to increase security today until waiting until tomorrow. He felt you had the right idea."

Michael groaned inwardly. There was no way to get the antidote or the disc through a pat down search. He would have to stash the disc and toss the antidote and hope to recover both in the morning.

Nikita's illness, while fatal, could take weeks or even months before it finally killed her--or it could days or hours. Operations said the kill rate was as unpredictable as the symptoms.

Michael toyed with putting the disc and syringe in Savim's pocket, but everyone including Guillory was being searched, so he expected Savim would be as well.

The antidote would be worthless by morning. Without refrigeration, its potency was lost over time and he had already had it in his pocket for several hours. He would have to draw some fresh in the morning and he would need access.

"Savim, I've reviewed all the records, I seem to be the only person here that hasn't been fully inoculated. Would it be possible to come in a little early tomorrow and have you give me the shots?"

"Would you like me to do it now?"

Michael smiled, "I had other reasons for making it in the morning." He took her hand and gently kissed it.

"At 6:00 then?" She whispered. "We will have an hour alone together. No one comes in before then."

"At 6:00. I will meet you here.”

Michael left Savim to hide the disc, then slipped the antidote out of his pocket to dispose of it. He hesitated for a moment, then rolled up his sleeve and injected the dosage into his arm. If anything happened tomorrow, and he was unable to get access to the antidote to get it to Nikita, the doctors back at Section might be able to use his blood to synthesize the antidote on their own. It was extra insurance, well worth taking.

* * *

“Ni-ki-ta?” Michael sat on the edge of his bed and curled a lock of white gold behind Nikita’s ear as she slept.

She jerked awake, as he had seen her do many times before. Nikita had long since mastered the art of falling instantly asleep during transport flights and waking again on a dime.

“What time is it?” She mumbled not quite fully awake.

“About 1800 hours. Have you been asleep long?” Fatigue was the first major symptom.

“Um, I don’t know.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “I don’t even remember lying down.” She looked at his concerned face and joked, “I think I need vitamins. Either that or I have mono. I can’t seem to get enough sleep lately. What’s up?”

“The target arrives tomorrow-time is unknown, but probably in the early afternoon. I’ve already placed the non-lethal sleep gas in the main lab-it should put everyone out, long enough for us to grab Nidal and set off the lethal gas. The timer should give us five minutes to vacate with Nidal. I managed to sabotage all the gas masks this afternoon during a safety inspection, so even if someone manages to get a mask on, it won’t help them.”

“Am I in?”

“Yes, but there is a complication. I have to go in early. There’s a third mission.”

“A third? Two wasn’t hard enough?” Nikita said sarcastically.

“Operations wants an antidote to a bio-weapon that was used on American troops during the Gulf War. The antidote is in the lab along with data on several other bio-weapons. I managed to get it on a disc, but couldn’t get it out of the lab this afternoon. I’ve arranged to meet Savim in the morning to get some inoculations that I’m missing. I’ll have access to the antidote then.”

“I thought you said you already had it all on disc.”

“He wants samples too.” Michael sat down at the computer that Nikita had been using. His journal disc remained in the player.

“You’ve read them?” He asked softly, not looking at her.

Nikita felt her heart race, “I thought. . . .well, wasn’t that the reason you had Birkoff bring them to me?”

He stared at the screen, his hands lying loosely in his lap. “I . . I’m not sure why I sent them to you.” He sounded bewildered and somewhat reluctant to discuss it.

Nikita got to her feet and walked over to where Michael was seated then knelt at his side. “I think I know why you did. You didn’t think you were going to make it back.”

‘Not true. Not quite,’ he thought dismally.

“I thought I might not see you again,” he answered quietly, turning to look at her.

“Michael, whatever the reason, I’m grateful you let me see them. There was so much I’ve misunderstood about you.” Her blue eyes gazed at him so tenderly that Michael’s heart ached.

She was dying and it was his fault. His fault!

He didn’t answer, just traced her face with his fingers. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Sure. What?”

“Tomorrow, if something should happen to me, I want you to make sure you get the antidote-it has priority. Inject it into yourself, at least 2 cc’s-the doctors in Section will be able to salvage it from your blood when you get back. Promise me?”

“Michael, you’re scaring me. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Nikita. Promise me?” He was insistent; green eyes begged blue.

“I promise but. . . “

Michael cut her off with a kiss, then drew her into his lap and deepened it. As many times as he had kissed her in the past few weeks, Nikita still could not get over the piercing sweetness she felt whenever his mouth found hers. Each touch, each moment with him was more precious than jewels and just as rare.

“Michael. . . “ she sighed his name as he pressed a kiss against her throat, just beneath her ear. The sensation made her dizzy. She closed her eyes and felt herself blissfully float away.

“Nikita!” Michael’s voice sounded urgent.

She opened her eyes slowly and realized she was on the bed, although she had no memory of getting there. She looked up dreamily into green eyes full of tears. Tears?

Awareness flooded back. “Michael? What’s wrong?” Concerned, she slipped an arm around his neck, even as he pulled her into a fierce embrace.

“I thought. . . .” He couldn’t finish.

Nikita frowned as a tremor shook Michael’s entire body. He was crying?

Now she was frightened.

“Michael?” She struggled to push him away. She wanted to see his face--to see what was wrong but he was holding her so tightly it almost hurt.

“Michael.” She ordered softly, “Let me go.”

Instantly his arms went slack.

Nikita lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes seemed twice as large as normal and he stared at her as if she were a ghost.

“Michael?” She reached out and cupped his face wet with tears.

He kissed her then, like a wild thing-hurt and savage with pain.

Nikita allowed the kiss, wrapping her arms around him briefly, then in dismay over his desperation, pushed him away.

“Michael,” she whispered fearfully, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He moved away, pushing himself off the bed entirely and sat on the floor with his knees drawn up against his chest. It took him a moment, but he composed himself.

“I’ve risked everything,” he said softly-so softly Nikita scooted to the edge of the bed to hear him. “But I never meant to risk you.”

Nikita slipped off the bed and sat next to him. She felt dizzy, still fuzzy-headed from sleep, and alarmed all at the same time.

“Look,” she began, cupping his face in her hand, “whatever it is, we’re in this together. Tell me.”

“It’s a game,” he said sadly, “one I can’t seem to win.”

She watched his face for some sign, some inkling, of what was bothering him, then begged, “Please? Don’t shut me out.”

“Why did Operations send you?” He asked, half to her, half to himself. “He knows you’re in no condition. . .” He stretched out his legs and pulled her into his lap to hold her.

“This is about me?” Nikita was surprised, then curious. “Michael, whatever it is, trust me.”

He smiled briefly his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Trust? You’re the only one I do trust.”

“Then prove it, damn it. Tell me.” She ordered softly.

“You’re sick,” he began, running his fingers tenderly through her hair. “You and half the Bergomi mission team were exposed to a biological agent.”

Nikita nodded, recognizing the reasons for her fatigue and her fainting spells. She also realized that sick wasn’t the end of it. Bio-weapons didn’t just make you sick, they were usually designed to incapacitate, and give you a lingering death. She was dying-and worse, Michael blamed himself.

Feeling oddly calm, she asked, “Is what I have contagious?”

“No.” He kissed her mouth gently.

“How long do I have?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes closed as if in pain at the thought.

“The antidote you mentioned-the third mission task, is that for what I have?”

“Yes.”

Nikita chided with a smile, “So, what’s the problem? Think I’m going to blow this mission after all the work I did to plan it? I’m not going to die, Michael. I refuse to let you go that easily.” She got to her knees then stood and reached a hand down to him.

“Come back to bed and keep me warm.”

They faced each other, kneeling in the middle of the bed, as milky moonlight spilled through a gap in the curtains, bathing the room in blue-white luminescence.

Nikita traced the smooth, sculpted muscle of Michael’s shoulders with the tips of her fingers, before brushing a kiss against his chest.

He shivered and gathered her against his body.

“I love you,” said lips against a throat, pulsating with life.

A sigh followed and warm hands found and cupped soft, rounded flesh.

As Michael pulled her body closer still, Nikita felt the heat of him, hard against her belly, and rocked against him in a playful caress-like cool, silken alabaster sliding against warm, velvety stone.

He retaliated by tumbling her back upon the pillows and taking the peak of one breast in his mouth. His mouth was hot and Nikita arched upwards with a half-murmured hiss, as he tugged and tasted her.

She held him there, lacing her fingers through his hair, all the while softly pleading, “Please, Michael, oh please. . .” She pulled him up to kiss, exalting in the warmth and weight of his body atop hers. But he refused to stay. Instead he murmured words of worship against her belly, then continued down, kissing and tasting and causing havoc to her senses.

Nikita’s head rolled against the pillow as she moaned and writhed beneath his mouth. Again and again, he brought her to the edge of paradise, only to pull away at the last moment.

“Michael!” she began to beg, “Pleaseeeee!”.

“Tell me what you want, love,” he whispered, feathering his mouth against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.

“You!” She moaned as he obliged her with another intimate kiss that pushed her over the waiting precipice. Her body tensed and shuddered with pleasure as he moved up to capture her mouth.

“Now you, Michael, please. . . “ Her hand found and guided him inside and she thought she’d die just from how wonderful he felt.

Michael began a gentle rhythm, savoring the feeling of her body encircling his--So hot! So tight! But soon, with Nikita’s insistence, his movements grew faster until his body was nearly slamming into hers for fulfillment. When it came, Nikita lifted up against him, then drew him down against her breasts and held him like a child.

“I love you,” she whispered, holding him close. It was what he needed to hear and she knew it.

He was beyond words, burying his face against her and holding her tighter in response.

'Love you too,' his heart answered, 'more than my life.’

* * *

“You ready?” Michael asked as Nikita straightened her veil.

She nodded once. “Ready.”

“Priority remains getting the antidote, then releasing the gas. If we can capture Nidal-we’ll do it, but if not, we leave well enough alone.” Michael instructed, as he slammed a clip into his 9mm.

“Ken, you clear on instructions?”

Stillman nodded. “Transportation is on standby-emergency vehicle mode. Safe house has been alerted, backup is in place should you need it, and we have a secondary target set for a diversion. Michael, if you can’t get the antidote, is there enough information on the disk to recreate it? I’ve been in contact with Section. We have two operatives in medlab and they’re not doing well.”

Michael sighed, painfully reminded that time was short. “I’m not sure. If not, I took a shot of the antidote myself. Worse case, they might be able to get what they need from my blood. But I’m not expecting worse case. Let’s go.”

Stillman nodded and got up to go to the door of Michael’s hotel room. Michael caught Nikita’s arm and delayed her for a moment.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

“I’m fine.”

“I’d be happier if you stayed behind and met us at the safe house.”

“I’ll be fine, Michael.” Nikita continued firmly. “We have three mission priorities and while I know you could probably do all three on your own, we both know odds are better if you don’t have to.”

“Better listen to her,” Stillman quipped as he held the door open. “I’ve found out the hard way, she won’t take no for an answer.”

Michael looked over at Stillman who winked at Nikita and smiled at Michael. “Besides, it’s all your fault anyway. You’re the one that trained her.”

“Michel!” Savim smile was uncertain when she saw that he was not alone.

“Savim. Good morning. You remember my cousin, Nikita?”

“Of course, bonjour Nikita.”

“Bonjour,” Nikita returned quietly, then stared down at the floor.

“Savim, is there a place where she can wait undisturbed? We received bad news this morning. Our grandfather passed away last night and she is still a little upset.”

“Oh, I am so sorry, Michel! Of course. My father’s office is quite comfortable and she can wait for you there.”

“Merci.” Michael slipped an arm around Nikita’s waist as Savim led the way. As they passed by the bathroom, Nikita began to cry and Michael called a halt.

“One moment,” he left Nikita in Savim’s care to go into the bathroom. He grabbed a handful of toilet tissue with one hand, and slipped his hand behind the toilet for the disk that he had stashed the day before.

“Ici, cousine,” he said on his return, handing Nikita the disk wrapped in the handful of tissue.

“Merci, Michel.” Nikita answered, palming the disk and mentally striking off, as completed, the recovery of the data disk.

Leaving Nikita in Guillory’s office to mourn their imaginary grandparent, Michael followed Savim back into the lab to access the antidote.

“I appreciate you taking the time to do this, Savim.” Michael said, seating himself on the edge of a desk as he removed jacket and began to roll up his sleeve.

“Which inoculations are you missing?” She asked as she opened up the refrigerated case.

“There are two, anthrax and . . . “ he paused, “oh, with all that has happened, I’ve forgotten the other.”

“It’s on the list, isn’t it?” She asked, pulling out a vial of vaccine.

“Yes, but I left it in my office.”

“Here,” she said, handing him the vial of anthrax vaccine and a hypodermic. “Draw up 1cc. I’ll run down and get the list for you.”

“Merci. Sorry to be so forgetful.” Michael touched her face apologetically.

“Don’t be. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As soon as she left, Michael retrieved the antidote from the case, filled a hypodermic with antidote and slipped it into his jacket pocket, along with the vial. He then moved a few vials in the case to hide the fact that one vial was missing and took a second hypodermic and filled it with anthrax vaccine.

Savim returned with the list and a smile. “You are missing two shots, but both are in the anthrax series. They have to be taken over time. I’ll give you one now, and when you return, you can get your booster.”

“Ah, of course.” Michael extended his arm to her and she quickly rubbed a spot with an alcohol prep before injecting him with the vaccine.

“Merci.” Michael replied, rolling down his sleeve. “You’re very gentle. I never felt a thing.” She smiled and locked the case. “You will be back soon, Michel?”

“Oui, as soon as I can.”

“I shall miss you.”

Michael kissed her forehead, “We’d better finish up. There is still much to do before the visit.”

Savim sighed, but nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

Michael slipped on his jacket. “Well, I need you to do a general walk-through of the secondary labs, make sure all is in order. I’ll take the main lab and do a walk-around outside the main storage tanks. Nidal’s visit is too important to the project for anything to be overlooked. I also want to look in on my cousin.”

“Nikita, are you comfortable?” Michael asked as he and Savim arrived in Guillory’s office.

She nodded, still looking miserable.

Michael slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Keep this for me? I will be back to collect you when we are ready to leave.”

Nikita nodded as he gently kissed her hand-the sign that he had been successful.

“You and your cousins seem to be very close,” Savim noted as they left Nikita a second time.

“Abdullah, Nikita and I grew up together, and yes, we are a very close family.”

It had almost gone as planned. Almost.

Nikita damned the intel, damned her luck, and damned herself as she desperately kept pressure against the gaping wound in Michael’s side. Would it matter now if they got back with their mission two thirds successful? Would anything?

“Michael! Michael! Talk to me! Open your eyes-damn it, Stillman! Are we there yet?” She tossed angrily over her shoulder.

"Almost! Hang on! Hard right!" Stillman turned the ambulance in a tight circle to the right. The force nearly slammed Nikita against the wall, but her hand remained stubbornly against Michael's wound.

Nikita thanked God their cover vehicle had been an ambulance. While it’s original intent had been to smuggle Nidal to the safe house, Nikita was now thankful for the real IV bags and bandages inside it.

“Michael, please, open your eyes.” She pleaded with him her hands red with his blood as it still seemed to leak out of him.

His eyes fluttered and opened slightly.

“Michael,” she bent low and looked at his eyes, “can you hear me?”

“Oui,” He answered weakly. “Status?”

“We have the disk, the gas was released, but no Nidal.”

“Antidote?” His voice was barely audible and it was all Nikita could do not to start crying.

She paused before she answered. “No. I lost it. It’s okay, we still have what’s in your blood and the disk.”

A single tear rolled slowly down his face as he looked up at her with horror and regret.

“Ni-ki-ta . . .”

“You live, I live, Michael. Don’t you let me die. You stay with me! You stay alive!”

His eyes drifted shut and panicked, she felt for a pulse.

“Damn it, don’t you die on me, Michael! Don’t you do it!”

* * *

“Take a seat, Nikita.” Madeline offered, pointing to an empty chair. Operations sat adjacent to Madeline and casually lit a cigarette, before leaning back in his chair to watch the proceedings.

“Would you care to explain what happened?” Madeline asked quietly.

“You have my report,” Nikita replied bitterly.

“Nevertheless, I want to hear it in your own words.”

Nikita’s hands balled into fists at her sides, as she took a deep breath.

“Michael and I went through the first three points without difficulty. We recovered the data disk, the antidote and set the gas tanks to release on remote. Problems began when Nidal’s arrival was postponed. Michael made the decision to wait until three. After three, we would lose maximum coverage of personnel, as some of the technicians were scheduled to leave at that time.”

“Did you agree with Michael’s decision?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nikita gave out an irritated huff of air, “Look, Madeline. He had to weigh all the options. We only had a small window of opportunity and we knew from the beginning that Nidal’s capture was a long shot. Michael had two other missions to complete. He made the right decision.”

“What happened next?”

“Just as planned, I released the sleep gas. We used our oxygen canisters until everyone was down, then we activated the timer to set off the poison gas. Then as we were leaving, Nidal and five of his retainers arrived. I pretended to be sick and Michael put his arm around me to reinforce the act. Nidal’s men were immediately alarmed and armed themselves. Michael told them there had been an accidental release of gas, but one man went inside despite that warning. Then Nidal grew suspicious and questioned Michael as to why we had not succumbed like the rest.” She stopped, remembering the stab of fear that had galvanized her into action. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.

“At that point, I felt we had no choice. I tossed Michael my gun, he took Nidal hostage and we used him as a shield to get to the ambulance. “

“You broke cover.” Madeline noted dryly.

“Yes, I broke cover.” Nikita returned sharply, emphasizing the word “I”.

“Continue.” Operations interrupted sternly.

“I slipped the mag bracelet on. It silenced my tracker, which was the signal to the back up team to advance. About that same moment, Michael was shot from behind.”

“By whom?”

“One of Nidal’s men-the man that had gone inside. By that time the sleep gas had dissipated. He came out of a side door behind us.”

“You didn’t plan for that contingency?” Operations accused.

“I had bad intel. The layout of the building I was given never showed another door to the front.”

“Then what happened?” Madeline interrupted smoothly.

“The backup team arrived, but when Michael was hit, Nidal got loose and we were under fire from four to five positions. I managed to get Michael behind Nidal’s car until Stillman managed to get the ambulance close enough to pick us up. Two minutes after we managed to drive away, the poison gas was released, and we activated the diversion scenario to cover our escape.”

“So. How do you rate your success on this mission?” Operations tapped his cigarette ashes into a small ashtray.

“At sixty-six percent, based on the three objectives-higher if you add in the odds of difficulty.” Nikita answered firmly.

Madeline smiled and rocked back into her chair. She pivoted to look at Operations on her left. “Well?”

Operations’ smile was an eerie reflection of Madeline’s Mona Lisa-like smugness.

“Pass. Upload the advancement to George.” Operations said cryptically. As he stood to leave, he paused and added: “Congratulations, Nikita. You are now a level three operative.”

* * *

“It was a test?” Nikita exploded in rage after Operations left.

“Yes. A test. You did extremely well. Better than expected in fact, considering you lost no operatives and you weren’t up to full capacity yourself.” Madeline calmly answered.

“Did Michael know it was a test?”

“No. He had no need to know.”

Nikita threw up twice after her interview with Madeline and Operations.

‘Congratulations?’ Nikita fumed bitterly. Michael was lying in medlab near death, and they had the nerve to congratulate her and order her on a month’s downtime?

“Either I’m dead and this is hell, or I’m crazy and this is an insane asylum.” She slumped down on the tiled floor of her Section quarters bathroom and cried.

* * *

“Hey, Sugar,” Walter said, as he quietly entered Medlab. “Any change?”

“The doctor is with him now.” Just as she said the words, the doctor exited Michael’s room.

“How is he?” Nikita approached and asked.

“He’s holding his own. The bullet did a lot of damage internally and he lost so much blood that frankly, I have to say it’s a miracle you got him back alive. I’ve never seen such a will to live. Thought we lost him three times and each time we got him back.”

“Can I see him?”

“Sure, but don’t expect much. He’ll be out for the next 12 to 18 hours.”

Nikita nodded. Walter pressed her gently towards Michael’s room. “I’ll see him later. Let me know.”

She nodded again and went to stand by Michael’s bed. Amid the tubes and wires, he lay quietly, while a monitor beeped, keeping time with his heart.

Nikita bent low and whispered, “If you die, they die.”

* * *

Nikita arrived at her apartment weary and defeated. She tried to sleep, but after nearly 30 hours without any, she was “on her second wind”-tired, but not sleepy.

She paced her apartment for a while, until that too, lost her interest. Finally she remembered Michael’s journal. She had one more disc yet to view. She lugged her laptop into her bedroom, lay on the bed and turned on it on.

***

(Undated, Video) There’s been an assassination attempt against Operations and Section is on full alert. George appointed Petrosian as interim commander and he has immediately set about dividing us along lines of trust. If Operations dies, it will only be a matter of time before he destroys Section or I am forced to kill him. (Michael frowned, paused a moment, then continued with a long sigh).

Oh, Nikita. Again you trust the wrong man. If you have a weakness love, it is believing in people too much. You trust. You simply haven’t learned that in this world we find ourselves, evil exists and sometimes it claims to be on your side.

When Petrosian ordered me to the club last night, I was told I would learn my mission once I got there. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry with you or flattered. I almost laughed, but it wasn’t funny.

Are you so insecure in my love for you that you thought-even for a moment-that you would need to order me to stay with you?

There was a new facet to you last night, an uncomfortable one. It was like watching you dress in corruption, just to try it on for size. For tempting you, I feel like killing Petrosian for that sin alone.

And yet, try as you did, you felt uncomfortable in the role. Your inner goodness was ashamed.

Oh, love, I wanted you last night. Despite Elena, if you had been there at your own behest, there would have been more than a drink between us. Perhaps, it’s just as well. (Michael looked away guiltily and the screen went dark.)

***

(Undated, written) Just as I think we might be growing closer, you push yourself farther away. You were right of course; it is supreme arrogance on my part to want to be with you. If I seem inconsistent it is only because my heart is being pulled in two directions. I love you, but I can’t hurt Elena. I want you, but I can’t leave my son. It seems I need you both. Selfish, but true.

It’s odd, but sometimes the job is a release for me. For a while I can refuse to feel and just be. It makes me walk through my existence, by the numbers, without any sensation of pain. Just do the job. Until today. Until you refused to stay away while I was under mandatory refusal.

How you found me, was impressive enough. You’ve reached beyond your training, Nikita. I can’t take any credit for it. Nor for your courage. Had you been anyone else, I would have killed you. Without thought. Without immediate remorse. Only one other person has ever had that kind of authority over me and that was Simone. If you were here with me now, I would kiss you for giving me part of my heart back.

(Undated, Written) How does one speak of betrayal when one has committed it? Rene was my friend, yet he and I ended up traveling different, if somewhat parallel, paths. It’s been a week since his death, but the pain has not lessened any.

Elena has sensed something is wrong, but the only one I can tell is Nikita. She, at least, can comprehend the depth of my feelings; she was there. Had she not been there, chances are I would not be writing these words, as I truly waited for Rene’s bullet to find me.

Ironically, she feels guilty over killing Rene simply because of my grief at his death. But in the end, Rene pulled that trigger years ago. We both did, only I haven’t died yet.

(Undated, Written) Tonight I took Elena out to dinner, gave her roses and made love to her, all the while feeling like a cheat doing it. She deserves better than having a husband that uses a mission as an excuse to break his vows.

I want to plead that it isn’t a real marriage. I want to plead I had no choice-but it would be a lie. I chose this blood cover-God forgive me. It seemed the right thing to do at the time, but I’ve learned from Nikita that no lie is “right” and in the end, we all pay for them.

Yet, while I feel great regret, at the same time, I also feel intense joy. Not since Lyons have I felt so whole, Nikita. But now I’ve lied to both of you. It was a mistake, and one whose cost is not yet known.

One day, when my relationship with Elena is no longer a secret, how will you react? You will never believe that I wasn’t manipulating you on some Section whim.

I wasn’t Nikita. I was only being human, but had I been a saint, I doubt I could have refused your invitation, couched in so delightful a way.

If only I could ‘relax’ with you again, my love. If only.

(Undated, Video) I’m restless. I wish I could go home and see Adam, but until my leg heals, it is impossible.

He’s such a precious little boy. More precious to me now, after seeing what Terry went through for her child. She made me realize how very lucky I am. How many other operatives would ever be allowed to have a child, much less, be there to raise it?

Even so, I know one day, one day . . . my son will be without a father. Just the thought panics me. I can’t imagine a time when I will no longer be allowed to go home again.

Elena talks of other children and I can’t bear it. Knowing what must happen, I should never have had Adam, but Elena is so often alone. I felt it less cruel to leave her with someone to love her, than not.

And Nikita-thinking I could be the father of Terry’s baby. I think I was actually hurt to know she thought that of me. Even now I wonder if she believed me. (He sighed.) Probably not.

“I believed you, Michael,” Nikita answered him wistfully. “Really, I did.”

(Undated, Written) She thinks I don’t remember, but I do. It was like waking from a dream, but slowly the details of that dream solidified. I still do not clearly remember Perez’s interrogation, but I do remember Nikita’s rescue and her subsequent kindness’.

She kept her head when I lost mine, both mentally and metaphorically. The pupil has exceeded her teacher, Nikita. When I told you I loved you-and yes love, I do remember it now-I should have added that I’m proud of you too.

It’s not that I didn’t know you’d be a great operative, I have always predicted you would be the best I’ve ever trained, and you are. What surprises me, is how good you are without having to compromise a single part of that beautiful soul of yours. I wish I could have learned how.

My regret is not having told you sooner that I love you. My only defense is, I have no right to tell you anything. Not now-perhaps never. But love you, I do.

I wish you would have let me kiss you, one last time.

(Undated, Video) Fanning is dead and Nikita is safe, if still hostile.

(Michael gently rubbed the backs of his fingers against his mouth, and sighed briefly.)

Lisa is stronger than Nikita gives her credit for. It would take a strong woman to do what she did last year, and having me beaten, shows she’s no longer a willing victim. I have every confidence in her.

(He stopped, tugged up his T-shirt and examined the bruises coloring his ribs. He rubbed his hand against them absently then let the shirt fall back into place.)

Ah, Nikita-I thought I’d lost you again . . .

(He leaned back in his chair, and gazed up at the ceiling as a faint smile shaped his lips.)

But you managed quite well without me. I don’t know how I feel about that. Proud, but perhaps a little disappointed that I wasn’t able to be your knight in shining armor. And now you’re angry at me again, sweet Amazon. So be it. You’re so beautiful when you’re angry.

(Michael smiled wistfully and the screen went dark.)

‘Beaten? Lisa had Michael beaten?’ Nikita was shocked at the revelation, then a bit ashamed for feeling so angry with him. She’d questioned Michael on what had happened with Lisa, but he had told her nothing to allay her suspicions.

Seymour, however, had given her a wide-eyed rendition of Michael threatening his life, if he didn’t help him find Lisa. While Nikita was sure Michael wouldn’t have harmed Birkoff, Birkoff wasn’t as easy to convince.

“You owe me one, Nikita. Michael doesn’t make idle threats!” Birkoff complained when she’d returned to Section. “I’m telling you, he was going to kill me, cook me, and eat me!”

Nikita laughed, remembering.

“Poor Birkoff,” Nikita murmured, then remembered Michael’s bruises. “Poor Michael.”

She stopped the disc, and looked forlornly at the darkened screen. ‘Poor Michael’ was lying in Medlab, badly wounded.

“Please,” she prayed aloud. “Please don’t take him away from me now. Not now.”

(Undated, written) Nikita’s missing. I’ve called and searched her apartment without success. I am trying not to believe the worst-that she’s been captured by an enemy. I’ve rerouted all non-critical missions to give me more leeway with my search. So far I have evaded discovery or comment by Operations, but I am doubly wary. This could be part of the test I’ve been expecting for a while, but I cannot chance Nikita’s safety, even if it is.

What is most ominous is Nikita’s tracker’s sudden ’malfunction’. It was definitely tampered with. I questioned Walter about a hypothetical malfunction and he assured me that such a malfunction was outside the realm of possibility.

I did not inform him of Nikita’s disappearance. I have ordered Birkoff’s silence, and while I know Walter wouldn’t say anything, his emotional attachment to her would soon give the game away.

The next puzzle is, if Nikita was unaware of her crystal, then who could have been? I keep returning to someone in Section, but if I am correct in that assumption, I still cannot find an answer as to why. Why tamper with her tracker?

Time is my enemy now. I must find her before Section knows she’s missing. If Section is a part of this, it could well be, they are testing me. If not, then either Nikita is in real danger from a real enemy or she’s running, and in danger of being cancelled. Either way, I must find her.

(Undated, video) Nikita’s safe return asks more questions than before. Her story of being captured by some of Rene’s old comrades makes little or no sense. Revenge? Why now? And how would they know of her significance in Rene’s death?

When I last saw Rene, his terrorist group consisted of a few radical amateurs. He had no deep contacts with anyone, including Red Cell, for all his bragging otherwise. Besides, who would have been left to commit this act of revenge? Section effectively destroyed his entire core group.

(Michael shook his head side to side, further indicating his disbelief.)

Nikita, are you part of the test? I felt your discomfort when we spoke. You were hiding something.

Have you been threatened? Is Section trying to use us against each other? I had hoped you trusted me a little by now-enough to tell me if you were in trouble. I would beg you to tell me, but if you are part of a test of some kind, I don’t dare, without possibly placing you in unknown jeopardy. I shall have to puzzle this out on my own.

(Michael stroked the backs of two fingers against the corner of his mouth before leaning over and switching off his computer.)

(Undated, written) Someone broke deep level security and I believe it was Nikita. She gave herself away when she acted nonchalant over Ames’ death. Normally, Nikita would have been outraged or saddened at the news, but she simply shrugged it off, as she did his capture.

Ames’ was in abeyance, so his death isn’t unexpected. Was it simply part of a test? Or is she involved in something more sinister? It makes no sense.

(Undated, video) (Michael was seated in his Section office with the lights off and the blinds drawn)

Adrian. My blood ran cold when Operations told me about the theft of Gemstone and that Nikita was one of three operatives under suspicion.

I want to believe this is a test, but everything I have learned in the last three hours suggests otherwise.

Adrian has the knowledge to tamper with a tracking crystal, and she could have given Nikita all the codes in order to break deep security and steal Gemstone. She also has an appealing personality-grandmotherly-someone that Nikita would readily trust.

Nikita! Adrian started the Sections. Are you helping her to bring down Operations? Oh, love, you are in a game of which there are no rules. You’re in over your head! Adrian is just as ruthless as all the rest.

I want this to be a test, but if it is, how do I pass?