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ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours.
Michael was standing before Madeline and Operations, in Madeline's office. "Is there a problem?" he asked, knowing that he hadn't been called in for a briefing and, judging by the looks on their faces, something bad had happened. Michael only hoped that it didn't have to do with Nikita. She was in the Antarctic, on a mission. Michael felt it was kind of a punishment that Operations had bestowed upon her to teach her not to flaunt his authority as she had been doing lately. It was a long mission, but shouldn't have been that dangerous a one.
Operations' nodded, in response to Michael's question. "Yes," he drawled, his pale eyes flashing. "There is a problem. And his name is Rudy."
"Rudy?" Michael repeated, his eyes glancing over to Madeline, who had a serene smile on her face. A smile that made him very nervous. Rudy was a noboby. Just a simple man, an innocent, whom Nikita had managed to save. Michael couldn't imagine what problem could have arisen because of him. He locked eyes with Operations again. "What's wrong with Rudy?"
"According to some recent intel, Red Cell is aware of Rudy's connection to Section One," Operations replied. "If they get their hands on him, there's no telling what information Rudy might pass along."
Michael could understand that. "So they haven't found him yet?" he asked.
Madeline answered him. "Not yet. But it's only a matter of time." Her eyes were studying Michael intently, guaging his reaction to what was being said. So far, he has betrayed nothing. "But what we have here is a security risk in the making," she said softly.
"What we have is a mess to clean up!" Operations interjected, his tone chilled with impatience. "Nikita's mess!" he hissed. Then he laughed softly, and moved to sit on the corner of Madeline's desk. "Since Nikita is out of the country on assignment and won't be back for two days, which will be too late, Rudy falls into your hands, Michael," Operations stated firmly.
"Why?" Michael questioned, curiously.
Operations shrugged. "Rudy is Nikita's responsibility, Nikita is yours. Consider it the trickle UP theory. Is that clear enough?"
Resisting the urge to sigh, Michael nodded. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, sensing that he was not going to like the answer.
"Relocate Rudy," Madeline replied. She moved to stand before Michael, one hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock behind his ear in a motherly gesture.
"What about the sister?" Michael queried, as he quietly withstood Madeline's ministrations. He recognized them for what they were, and attempt to distract his focus. In a sense, what they were asking him to do was yet another test for Michael to pass.
"We've taken care of her," Madeline replied, her hands now moving to Michael's chest and smoothing non-existent wrinkles out of his shirt. She was pleased by his acceptance of her mothering. Michael was learning to accept physical contact again. He had avoided it after Simone's death, unless it was initiated by himself. Madeline knew that Nikita had influenced Michael's acceptance, but doubted that the beautiful blond realized what she had accomplished. Something that no one else could.
Michael did not like Madeline's response. "Taken care of her...how?" he prompted, feeling a chill ripple up his spine.
Operations smiled. "She's safe," he allowed, knowing what Michael was thinking. The young man was no fool. He knew exactly what Section was capable of.
"So...they're to be seperated?" Michael persisted. He hadn't exactly been patient in dealing with Rudy in the past, but he knew how much the siblings relied on each other. They were the only family the other one had. Michael hated the thought of them being torn apart.
"We'll reunite them later, if possible," Madeline said softly. She had finished fussing over Michael and smiled when she detected his, almost, inaudible sigh of relief as she stepped away to sit behind her desk.
Michael nodded. "Do you have a safe place in mind?"
Operations shook his head. "That's entirely up to you, Michael," he drawled, his eyes narrowing to ice-blue slits as he pinned the young operative with a glare. "Use your contacts and resources at your discretion. Set up a new life for Rudy, include his sister....if you can. Where or how...I don't care." Operations pushed away from the desk and moved forward till he was in the other man's face. "I'm giving you seventy-eight hours, Michael. At the end of which time, if Rudy has not disappeared, then you cancel him. Section cannot afford a security risk. Understood?"
"Understood," Michael echoed, softly.
"Put togther what you'll need," Madeline told him. "You leave in four hours". It wasn't much time for him to get in touch with his contacts and make arrangements, but Madeline knew that Michael was at his best when challenged. When he nodded, then turned to go, Madeline added, "Rudy is is working at the Pizza Palace on fifth and Lawrence. Pick him up there. You might want to stop by his apartment first and pack a bag for him."
Michael considered for a moment, then smiled. "I'll do that," he allowed. Then he headed out the door. As he strode down the corridor to his office an, unidden, a memory flashed into Michael's head. Of a time during his first year as a full operative when he had begged Operations to spare the life of an innocent, and his request had been granted. But Michael had made a tragic mistake. And, because of it the innocent, along with several operatives,had died. He didn't want to make the same mistake twice. But Michael realized that if he failed this time, he not only failed himself and Section, but Rudy and sister and, most of all, Nikita. That was not acceptable.
Michael parked his car, a nondescript, dark blue chevy, in the alley way behind the Pizza Palace. In the trunk of the car was a suitcase packed with several changes of clothes, toiletries and the personal possessions that Michael thought Rudy might want. Such as several, well worn, children's books and a photo album. There was also a small case of music cassettes and a sketch book with several artists pencils.
As he approached the back door of the resturant, Michael's eyes tracked the surrounding area. The alley way was deserted, but Michael had a sense of being watched. His eyes lifted to the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, but he saw no one. Nor the glint of sunlight off the metal barrell of a gun or rifle. Still, Michael decided to play it safe. He removed his gun from his shoulder holster and slipped it into the pocket of his overcoat, his finger curled around the trigger. With his left hand, Michael pushed open the door and entered the kitchen.
Rudy was humming to himself as he tossed pepperoni slices onto a pizza shell. But he nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure dressed in black appeared beside him. "You scared me!" he shouted, shaking a greasy finger at Michael. Then he caught his breath, slowed his racing heart, and stared hard at the other man. "I know you," Rudy whispered.
"That's right, Rudy," Michael confirmed. His eyes tracked the kitchen for he still sensed danger.
"You're....you're Michael...aren't you?" Rudy countered, a smile splitting his face. "You took me to the bathroom at that fancy party."
Michael heaved a sigh, then forced a smile. "Yes, Rudy. Listen to me, you need to get your coat and with me now."
Rudy frowned as he wiped his greasy hands on his stained apron. "I can't leave," he said firmly. "I'd get fired. And I been doing real good on this job." Delivering pizza's hadn't been his forte. But making them was something Rudy was good at. And he had to keep this job for his sake, as well as his sisters.
"I'm sure you've done well," Michael allowed. His eyes tracked the room again. The sense of danger was growing stronger. Michael knew they were being watched. "Rudy...you're in danger," he hissed, deciding that it was best to be honest. Anything else would be too complex for the simple man to comprehend. "I'm here to help you."
"Where's Nikita?" Rudy countered, feeling a sudden wave of fear wash over him. He searched behind Michael, hoping to see the beautiful blond who had been so kind to him.
Michael grimaced. He wished Nikita was here too. "Nikita had to go out of the country on business," Michael explained. "So I came instead. But Nikita would want you to come with me, Rudy. She would want you to be safe."
Rudy considered Michael's words, and believed them. But he was a little bit scared of the man in black. Not that he thought Michael would hurt him, but he was kind of intimidating. And he never smiled. Not a real smile, anyway. Rudy sensed that Michael was very sad. "Why am I in danger?" Rudy countered, his eyes flickering about the room as if he expected bad guys, or monsters, to suddenly jump out at him.
"I can't explain it, Rudy," Michael replied, feeling frustrated that he didn't have a better answer. "It has to do with your time at Section One. Please...come with me now," Michael requested.
"Where are we going?" Rudy asked, as he tugged at his apron ties. If Nikita had sent Michael, then he would go with him. Nikita had kept her promises to Rudy in the past, so he trusted her. And he sensed that she trusted Michael. "I have to tell my sister where I'll be," Rudy explained.
Michael bit his lip and glided over to the door. He was certain that there would be a welcoming committee waiting for them. But they had to leave by this route, it would be too risky to go out the front, and no doubt that was covered as well. Michael let his attention flicker back to Rudy for a moment as he replied to the other man's question. "I can't you where we're going, Rudy. But don't worry about your sister. She's safe."
Rudy didn't like the sound of that. "You mean, she's in danger too?"
"No," Michael replied, firmly. Of that he was certain. Section was protecting her. "She's fine and waiting for you. Once you're safe you'll be together again." By the look on Rudy's face, Micahel could tell that he was giving him more facts than he was able to fully assimilate. But that couldn't be helped. "Get your jacket," Michael ordered.
"What about my stuff?" Rudy countered, even as he obeyed the order. He wrapped a bright red muffler around his neck before slipping on his heavy coat.
Michael peeked out the door again, even as he gestured for Rudy to join him. "I packed a bag for you," he answered. "It's in the car." When he felt Rudy beside him, he faced him and said, "It's very important that you stay close to me, Rudy, and do as I say. Do you understand?"
Rudy nodded, even though he was very confused. He trusted Michael to protect him from whatever danger awaited them. "What do you want me to do?"
"There's a blue car in the alley, just outside the door, to your left. When I tell you, I want you to run to it and jump in. Start the car then wait for me. Keep your head down." Michael's eyes bore into Rudy's. "Can you do that for me?"
Rudy nodded. "I can do that." And he would do it because he sensed that something bad was about to happen, but that Michael would protect him.
Michael peeked out the door and saw a shadow of movement. One man was to his left. He would have to take him out before Rudy made a run for the car. "Get ready," Michael whispered, then he moved. His gun was in his hand and he had kicked open the door, dropping to his knees and firing. He saw the man go down. "RUN RUDY!" Michael shouted. When Rudy had slipped by him, Michael turned to his right and fired at the rooftop of a nearby building. He had seen sunlight glinting off a gun barrell. Then Michael left the doorway and ran for the car. As directed, Rudy had it running. Michael opened the passenger door. "Move over!" he hissed, as he fired off two more shots. Then he ducked as shots were returned. Michael felt a burning pain in his left arm as a bullet grazed his bicep, but it didn't slow him down. He slid behind the wheel, put the car in drive and stomped on the accelerator.
Rudy was fumbling with his seat belt, his eyes wide, as he watched them hurtle down the alleyway. All of the sudden a man jumped out in front of them. "Look out!" Rudy shouted, then he covered his eyes as he realized that Michael wasn't slowing down. A moment later he heard a sickening thud and he knew that they had hit the guy. His hands still over his face he asked, "Was that one of the bad guys?"
"Yes, Rudy," Michael replied, as he yanked hard on the wheel to send them into a right turn. Now they were out in traffic and heading west.
"Is he...dead?" Rudy questioned, finally lowering his hands, and instantly regretting it. Michael was weaving them in and out of three lanes of heavy traffic. But he did it with smoothly.
Michael sighed, then placed his gun down on the seat between them. "I hope so," he replied, honestly. Michael wanted Rudy to comprehend the seriousness of their situation. "There are going to be more bad men following us, Rudy," he said soflty. "You can't trust anyone but me. Do you understand?"
Rudy shook his head. "Not really," he confessed. The only thing he understood was that someone was trying to hurt him. "What did I do wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," Michael replied. He glanced over at Rudy and saw tears falling down the big man's face. "Things happen to us that aren't fair, Rudy. It's not right that these..people..want to hurt you. But we can't change that fact. All we can do...all I can do...is protect you and take you somewhere safe. Some place where those men won't ever find you. And that's what I'm going to do." Michael hoped that his words would help to reassure Rudy.
"I'm scared," Rudy whispered, as he wiped his face with his coat sleeve. Then he looked at Michael's profile and a smile crossed his face. "I know you're gonna protect me though," he said firmly. "So...maybe I'm not so scared."
Michael nodded, feeling some of the tension drain out of him. "It's gonna be all right, Rudy," he replied. And Michael was determined that it would be. He wouldn't fail Rudy, or Nikita.
A long moment of silence passed as Rudy stared out the window. But he was dying of curiousity. "So...where are we going?"
"You'll see," Michael replied, as he took the exit to the thruway.
Three hours later Michael left the thruway and found a side road that basically a one-lane. He needed a quiet spot to attend to his arm. He was certain that they hadn't been followed. Not yet. Besides which, he had noticed that Rudy was squriming in his seat. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?" Michael asked, as he opened his door and stepped out of the car.
Rudy nodded. "Yes!"
"Go ahead," Michael told him, gesturing to the woods. "But stay close by."
"Right," Rudy replied, already on his way. He did his duty then returned to the car feeling much relieved. It was then that he noticed Michael was sitting in the back seat of the car. Rudy went over to him and caught his breath when he was blood staining Michael's arm. The black, leather coat he had been wearing was stained with it as well, and lying on the floor. "What happened?" Rudy questioned, his voice shaking.
Michael didn't look up from his task. He was wiping down the wound, which was a fairly deep crease about three inches long, with alcohol pads from the first aid kit. To say it stung was an understatement. "It's nothing, Rudy," Michael replied, dismissing the wound for what it was, negligable.
Rudy didn't believe it. He sat down next to Michael and reached for the alchohol wipes. "Let me do that," he requested.
"I'll take care of it," Michael countered, figuring that Rudy wouldn't handle the sight of blood too well. But he was wrong. The big man took the wipes out of Michael's hand then tended to his injury with surprising gentleness, and skill. Five minutes later his arm was wrapped in a neat bandage. " Where did you learn how to do this?" Michael asked.
"I just know," Rudy replied, with a shrug.
Michael didn't push him for an answer. "Are you hungry?" he inquired, as he returned to the drivers seat.
"No," Rudy said, his head bent over his new task. He used more alcohol wipes to clean the blood off Michael's coat.
His eyes tracking the area once more, Michael started the car. "Let me know when you are," he requested, then he drove off.
It was nightfall when Rudy complained of hunger. Michael explained that they couldn't stop, so they grabbed burgers at a fast food drive thru. Rudy practically inhaled two cheeseburgers and a double order of fries, while Michael ignored his share.
"Aren't you hungry?" Rudy asked, as he wiped his greasy fingers on a paper napkin.
"No," Michael replied, as he turned on his signal light to slip into the left lane. He was content with the large coffee he had ordered.
After a moment of silence Rudy said, "You need to eat something."
Michael glanced over at him, seeing the concerned look on the other man's face. He was surprised by it, but blew it off. "Later," he said shortly.
"Now!" Rudy insisted. When Michael ignored him he demanded, "Stop the car!"
"What?" Michael countered, not understand Rudy's sudden anger. "We have to keep going." It was important that they crossed into the next state before dawn and they had about eight hours to go.
Rudy wasn't listening. He reached for the door handle. "Stop the car or I'm jumping out!" he warned.
Michael realized that Rudy was serious when the big man opened his door and there was a rush of wind. "All right!" Michael hissed. "Close the door, Rudy. I'll pull over." He signalled to get over into the right lane, then he pulled over onto the shoulder, rolling to a stop. The minute he did so, Rudy was out of the car. Michael nearly jumped when the drivers door flew open.
"Get out!" Rudy ordered, glaring at Michael.
"What are you doing?" Michael countered, not moving.
Rudy huffed with frustration. "I'm gonna drive," he explained. He reached for Michael's arm then remembered that it was injured. "I'm a good driver," Rudy insisted. "Just tell me where to go. I won't get lost, I promise."
Michael was irritated by this scenario. They were losing time. "Get back in the car!" he ordered. "It's better if I drive. Come on!"
"No.." Rudy stamped his foot. "Fine, then I'm leaving!" he announced, and true to his word he began walking away.
"Rudy!" Michael hissed, leaving the car to follow. He caught up with the other man and grabbed his arm. "We don't have time for this!" Michael exclaimed. "Don't you understand?"
Rudy glared at Michael. "I understand that you've been driving for hours, that you've been hurt, and you haven't eaten," he countered, not in the least bit intimadated by Michael. For once.
Michael was stunned by Rudy's admission. "Is that what this mutiny is about?" he questioned, feeling a sense of relief.
"Well...yes," Rudy confessed. "Let me drive for a while."
"All right," Michael replied. Anything to get Rudy moving again. "You can drive for a few hours. It's straight highway, just head west."
A smile lit up Rudy's face. "Great!" He ran back to the car and waited for Michael to slide into the passenger seat. "Buckle up your seat belt," he ordered, with the sterness of a concerned parent.
Michael knew it would be easier to comply, so he did so. "Let's go," he directed, once the seat belt was in place.
"Here," Rudy countered, pulling a cheese burger out of the fast food bag and holding it out.
"I'm not hungry," Michael replied, with a shake of his head.
Rudy didn't waver. "You lost alot of blood, Michael," he countered. "You need to rest and to eat. And I'm not starting the car until you eat."
Swallowing a groan, Michael accepted the burger. He tore off the paper and took a bite, all the while wondering if Nikita had been the one to give Rudy lessons in stubborness. "Happy now?" he queried, after swallowing a mouthful of burger.
"Keep going," Rudy instructed, but he reached for the keys and started the car. A moment later he had them back on the highway and cruising west.
They drove through Montana and Rudy was impressed by the beauty of the countryside. He was also a bit bored. He didn't like long drives, but understood that it couldn't be helped. Michael was driving again, and they had stopped at a diner for breakfast and bathroom breaks., with Michael assuring Rudy that they would stay at a motel that night so they could both shower and get a good nights sleep. For the moment, Rudy was listening to music. The tapes that Michael had packed for him. His music, and Rudy was grateful. It kept his mind off bad thoughts to sing along to his favorite tunes. That he couldn't carry a melody didn't matter. Rudy sang at the top of his lungs, and Michael didn't yell at him for it.
To say that Michael was relieved when Rudy conked out in the back seat after stopping at a drive thru for burgers, was an understatement. Michael had covered him with a thin blanket and snores now filled the car. That was something that Michael could tune out. He did so now as he pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call to Birkhoff. Although his call couldn't be traced to Section, it could be traced to his present location, so Michael backtracked himself, heading East for the time that he made the call. After letting Birkhoff know he and Rudy were fine, and that he should be back within three days, Michael broke the connection, then did a U-turn, once again heading westerly. But this time more south-west than before.
So far he hadn't noticed anyone following him, but that didn't mean they weren't. Michael knew that the people after them had infinite patience. They would strike when they felt he was most vulnerable. Red Cell had his, old, directory file, so they knew what Michael was capable of. He knew they wouldn't underestimate him. Nor would he underestimate them.
Five hours later, Rudy awakened from his nap. They took another bathroom break and grabbed Tacos to munch on, then continued on. Once it was dark, Michael promised to stop at a motel. For a time, Rudy sat in silence. No music, no talking. He simply stared out the window. Michael became concerned as he glanced over at the other man. Rudy looked so sad. It was a look that Michael sometimes caught on Nikita's face. "What's wrong, Rudy?" Michael queried.
"Nothing," Rudy replied, heaving a sigh that seemed to come from his toes. Then he shook his head. He couldn't lie. "I miss my sister," he whispered.
"I know," Michael said softly. He reached out and patted Rudy's arm in a gesture of comfort, and was surprised at how natural it felt. "You'll be with her soon."
Rudy forced a smile. He believed Michael, but he was scared. He couldn't help it. The future used to be so simple, now it was so uncertain. "What will I do when we get where we're going?" he asked, shifting against the seatbelt so that he was turned towards Michael.
Michael shrugged. "What do you want to do?" he countered. "I'll help you no matter what it is."
"Really?" Rudy countered, feeling cheered by the prospect of fullfilling a dream.
"Really," Michael assured him. And he meant it. "So...what would you like to do?"
Rudy considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not sure. Can I think about it?" There were so many things he wanted to try.
Michael offered a smile. "Of course. Take your time," he replied, feeling a sense of relief that Rudy's face was lit up again with happiness. He was so easy to please.
"Michael...can I ask you a question?" Rudy countered, the sparkle in his eyes fading a bit.
"You can ask," Michael allowed. And he hoped he would be able to answer it.
Rudy bit his lip, debating whether or not he should, but then he decided to go ahead. Michael wouldn't get mad at him for asking a question. "Do you have a sister?"
Michael caught his breath at the innocent query. It was not what he had expected, and he wasn't prepared for it. Or for the memories it invoked. He took a deep breath than replied, "I did."
"Did?" Rudy repeated, innocently. He didn't see the pain that shimmered in Michael's eyes.
"She...died," Michael said softly. "A long time ago." Funny how time didn't seem to ease the pain any.
Rudy blinked back tears. He couldn't imagine losing his sister. She was all he had in the world. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He wanted to reach out to Michael, but sensed that the other man wouldn't accept it. So he simply stared back out the window again. A long time passed then he said, "You miss her?"
Michael didn't respond for a moment. An image of a fifteen year old girl with auburn hair and emerald eyes flashed in his head. "Yes," he said softly. "I miss her."
"What was her name?" Rudy questioned. He found himself curious to know. And Michael seemed willing to answer.
"Enjoli," Michael replied. "Her name was Enjoli." Even after all these years, it still made his heart ache to say her name. As a child he had believed that her name was like music.
Rudy looked at Michael's profile, then down at the hands that gripped the steering wheel till the knuckles showed white. But he had dared to ask another question. "Was she younger than you?"
Michael shook his head. "No. She was older. Five years older," he replied. "She watched over me."
"I watch over Belinda," Rudy countered, with a tinge of pride in his voice. Then his expression grew sad. "I miss her."
"I know you do," Michael said, forcing a smile as he glanced over at the other man. "You'll be with her soon, Rudy," he promised.
Rudy sighed, then nodded. "Yeah..soon," he repeated. "I know I will, cause you promised. And I know you'll keep your word, Michael. Just like Nikita kept hers. You like Nikita," he commented, abruptly changing the direction of the conversation.
Michael didn't respond at first, then decided that it couldn't hurt to be honest with Rudy. Nikita would never see him again, so Rudy couldn't tell tales. "Yes, I like Nikita," Michael allowed.
"She likes you too," Rudy replied, a huge grin lighting up his face. "She told me."
"Did she?" Michael countered, with more than a little curiosity.
Rudy laughed with delight. "Yeah...it was kinda like our secret, but she didn't say I couldn't tell you. Besides...I'm never gonna see Nikita again...am I?" It was a realization that had Rudy had been struggling with for the past two hours. Coming to him at first in his dreams.
Michael had no intention of lying to him. "No, Rudy. You won't be able to see Nikita again. It's for the best. To keep you and Belinda safe."
"I understand," Rudy replied, in a solemn tone of voice. Then he turned his head back towards the side window again and fell silent once more.
As he had promised, Michael booked them a room at a small, out of the way, motel. It wasn't fancy but it was clean, and they both took a chance to shower and change clothes. Michael then took Rudy out for ice cream, to try and cheer him up. It seemed to have the desired effect, for Rudy was telling corny jokes on the walk back to the hotel, then he curled up on his bed and laughed at the TV for the next two hours. After that, Michael suggested that he go to sleep.
Rudy got under the covers and obediently closed his eyes. But he heard Michael moving about the room, looking out the window. "What's wrong?" Rudy asked, sitting up.
"Nothing," Michael replied, turning to smile at the other man. "Go back to sleep. I'm just keeping watch. Just in case." He didn't reveal the fact that he could sense danger. It was like a tingle in his blood. Michael had his gun strapped on and ready to fire, a second one at the small of his back. But he moved to sit in the chair next to Rudy's bed. "Sleep, Rudy," he beseeched. "Everything is fine."
"Sure," Rudy replied, as he lay back down. He felt safe with Michael watching over him, but he still couldn't fall to sleep. He listened to the silence for a long time, then sighed. "Tell me a story," Rudy begged.
Michael blinked at him. "What?" he countered, certain that he had heard wrong.
Rudy hitched up in bed, pushing the pillows up behind him. "Tell me a story," he repeated. "I love stories. It will help me to sleep."
"I don't know any stories," Michael shot back, feeling a touch of irritation with the other man. But he controlled it and regained his composure, nothing revealed in his voice.
"Everyone knows stories, Michael," Rudy insisted. "I tell fairytales to Belinda, but I like more grown up stories." The wistful tone of his voice belied the truth of his words. " Please...tell me something."
Michael heaved a sigh, knowing that Rudy wouldn't let up. So he shifted into a more comfortable position in his chair, but still kept an eye on the window and the door. Then Michael told Rudy a story from his past. A story that Enjoli had once told him on a night that he couldn't fall asleep. His favorite story, and one he had thought was forgotten. "A long time ago in a land of Kings and magic, there lived a simple man, named Helix. He was very big and very strong, but not very smart."
"Like me," Rudy interjected. He liked this story already.
"I think that you are very smart Rudy," Michael chided, gently. "But listen now." At Rudy's nod, he continued. "One day Helix went for a walk in the forest, and he came out on the other side and discovered before him a beautiful valley with a magnificent castle down below. He had never seen anything so wonderful before, so he ran forward to get a closer look. But as he ran he suddenly heard terrible screams, and a dark shadow swooped over him, blotting out the sun."
Rudy couldn't help himself. "What was it? What was the shadow?" he entreatied.
MIchael couldn't help but smile, remembering how he had asked the same questions, the first time Enjoli had told him the story. It was a story she had created herself. "Helix saw a magnificent dragon," he replied. "It was gold and scarlet and seemed to be as big as the castle in the valley. From it's mouth streamed fire and the air was suddenly filled with smoke. As the dragon flew off, Helix followed it. There were more screams echoing about him, and he knew that something bad was happening. So Helix ran as fast as he ever had and he came to a dip in the valley. To his right was a beautiful, sapphire, lake, and it was there that the dragon had gone to."
"So Helix followed him?" Rudy questioned, his eyes shining with delight.
"He followed him," Michael confirmed. "And he was horrified by what he saw. The bones of dead men were scattered about the lake. The bones of the people the dragon had slaughtered."
Rudy grimaced. "But why did he do that? The dragon, I mean. Why did he slaughter people? Were they bad?"
Michael nodded. "Some of them were very bad. The King had ordered his Knights to slay the dragon and his mate. And so they had come in the night and killed the dragon's companion. And then they had wounded the dragon, only to die as the dragon had breathed fire upon them."
"But why did the King want the dragon dead? What did the dragon do to him? Or the knights?" Rudy interjected once more. He was sitting forward, intent on the story.
"The dragon had done nothing," Michael replied. He paused for a moment to listen, but a moment later dismissed the sound he thought he'd heard. "The dragon was an innocent, Rudy. But the King believed him to be bad, simply because he was different. Because he was so big and powerful that the King was afraid of him. But the dragon wanted only to live in peace."
Rudy felt sad. "So...what did Helix do then?" He felt a strange connection to the character.
Michael had got up from the chair and went to the window again. But he saw nothing, so he continued the tale. "Helix heard more screams of dying men and he watched in horror as the dragon breathed fire on a dozen Knights. He ran forward but too late to save them. As he stared at the blackened remains he glared up at the dragon and asked, 'Why did you kill them?'. The dragon replied that he did so because they were Knights, then he told Helix the story of how the King had sent men to kill him and his mate. Helix then asked if the men the dragon had just slaughter were the same Knights who had killed his companion. When the dragon said no, Helix then shook his head and wept. The dragon asked Helix why he cried and Helix replied, 'You are a thing of beauty, dragon, but you are ugly in my sight, for you have become that what you seek to destroy'."
"I get it!" Rudy cried out, nearly bouncing with excitement. "Helix meant that the dragon was killing innocent men. He was killing Knights just because they were...Knights. Punishing them for the bad things that someone else had done."
"That's right, Rudy," Michael confirmed. "Hate had blackened the dragons heart, for he could not let go of his hurt and grief at the death of his mate." That was something Michael could sympathize with after losing Simone, and his son.
Rudy fell silent, deep in thought for a moment. Then he said, "What happened next?"
Michael shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed, for that was the trick of Enjoli's story. She had left it up to him to decide the fate of Helix and Enjoli, and they had spent endless hours by the lake at their home, discussing what might have been. On the night she had died, just hours before, they had been at the lake and she had told the story again. Michael remembered Enjoli telling him that he must never be like the dragon. No matter what choices other people made, she had begged Michael to choose his own path. To this day he felt regret at having to break his promise to her. For he become exactly like the dragon. But, banishing his memories, Michael turned to smile at Rudy and said, "You must tell me what you think happened, Rudy. You finish the story. Sleep on it for now, then tell me when you're ready."
"I can do that," Rudy agreed, as he slid back down in the bed and pulled the covers up over him. He was already drifting off into the magic land that Michael had created, giving in to the call of slumber.
"Goodnight, Rudy," Michael whispered, as he listened to the other man's breathing change. Once he was certain that Rudy was asleep, Michael retrieved a sketch book and pencil from his duffle bag and returned to his chair. Reaching out, he clicked on the light from the stand behind the chair, then turned around the framed photograph that Rudy had set on the bedstand. It was of Rudy and his sister. Using it as a model, Michael began drawing.
Two hours later, just an hour before dawn, the tingle in Michael's blood became a ripple. He yanked his gun out of his holster, then gathered up their things. That done, Michael went to the bed and shook Rudy awake. He handed the sleepy man the bags and his pants, then told him to kneel beside the door. "Run to the car when I tell you too!" Michael hissed in Rudy's ear. And not a moment too soon. The window shattered as bullets sprayed through it and peppered the wall above the beds. Michael used his body to shield Rudy's, but stood up and returned fire when there was a sudden lull.
"Go Rudy!" Michael shouted, yanking open the door. He stepped out first, his second gun in his left hand now, and sprayed bullets from side to side. He didn't even react when a bullet grazed his ribs, he simply continued running and dove into the passenger side of the car. To his surprise, Rudy had the car running and stepped on the accelerator the moment Michael was inside.
"Where am I going?" Rudy shouted, spinning the wheel to straighten them out after backing over a trash can.
Michael paused to reload, then fired again. "Head for the highway!" he ordered, smiling with satisfaction as the vehicle the shooters were hiding behind suddenly exploded. Michael closed the passenger door and pointed to the left. "Go that way, Rudy," he said. "But keep to the speed limit." They didn't need any cops pulling them over.
They drove for an hour when Michael spotted a sign for a motel. He directed Rudy to pull in, then pulled out a hundred dollar bill. "Get us a room in the back," he directed.
"Why?" Rudy countered, even as he accepted the money. He was used to Michael taking care of such things.
"I can't go in," Michael replied. He lifted the hand he had held pressed to his left side, and it was covered with blood.
Rudy was horrified. "You're gonna die!" he wailed.
Michael grabbed his arm and shook him. "I'm not going to die, Rudy," he hissed. "It's just a scratch. I'll clean it up once we get to our room. Okay?"
"O..Okay," Rudy replied, his voice hushed. "I'll be right back." He left the car, pulled on his pants, then hurried off. Ten minutes later he returned to discover that Michael had dozed off, or so he believed. "I got the room!" Rudy declared, shaking Michael's shoulder.
"Good," Michael replied, having to dispel the darkness that seemed to be suffocating him. In the past two days he had lost more than his fair share of blood and he knew he was drifting into shock. Blinking his eyes, he then stared hard at Rudy, noticing that the other man was clutching a handful of towels and what looked like a six pack of plastic bottles with something orange-colored in them. "What is that?" Michael asked, pointing.
Rudy grimaced. "Orange juice," he replied, moving around the car to the passenger side. He opened Michael's door. "I'll help you to the room," he offered.
Michael shook his head. "I'm okay, Rudy," he said firmly, proving that fact by rising smoothly to his feet. "What room?" he asked, as he reached in the back for their bags, and the first aid kit.
"One oh eight," Rudy replied. "In the back, like you wanted."
"Good work," Michael complimented him. "Come on, lets go."
They made their way to the room and the moment they were inside, Rudy headed for the bathroom. He clicked on the light, set down the towels, then went back into the other room to retrieve the first aid kit, and Michael. "Come on," he said, taking the other man by the arm. "Let me fix you up."
Michael was about to protest, but he realized that it was easier to let Rudy do it, and the big man had proven himself more than capable when he had tended to Michael's arm. "Whatever you say," Michael replied, obediently. He was too tired to put up a fight anyway.
Once in the bathroom, Rudy set to work. He helped Michael to remove his shirt, then he wet a towel and cleaned up the blood so that he could get a good look at the wound. It amazed him how Michael never flinched, for he knew the injury had to hurt. Pausing in his task, Rudy grabbed one of the bottles of orange juice and thrust it into Michael's hand. "Drink it," he ordered, his attention now on the first aid kit, as he removed bandages and antiseptic.
"Thank you, Rudy," Michael said softly, realizing now why Rudy had gotten the orange juice. To help him counter act the shock. Michael pulled the cap off the bottle and drank. Almost immediately he felt his head clear. Not completely, but enough. Detaching himself from the pain, Michael let Rudy do his work while he considered his next move. He knew that Red Cell would be coming after them, but he had changed course so they wouldn't be so easy to find. Besides which, as soon as Rudy was finished, Michael would use the pay phone outside the room to make a few calls. Some people owed him some favors, and it was time for them to pay up.
"How does that feel?" Rudy asked, once he had finished with the bandage. He was worried about Michael for he had lost alot of blood.
Michael stared down at his ribs. "It's fine, Rudy," he replied. "Thank you." He made a move to stand.
Rudy put a hand on Michael's shoulder to hold him still. "I'm gonna rebandage your arm," he said firmly. "Drink another orange juice."
"Yes, sir," Michael drawled, but he said it with a smile on his face to let Rudy know that he was teasing. He hadn't done teasing in a while, but it felt....familar. After swallowing some more orange juice, Michael asked, "Are you okay, Rudy? I know what happened back there was scary."
"I'm okay," Rudy replied, as he swabbed more antiseptic on the arm wound. He heard the hesitation in his own voice and admitted, "But I am...afraid."
Michael nodded. "That's okay, Rudy. It's okay to be afraid."
Rudy shrugged. "You're not afraid, Michael."
"I am," Michael contradicted. "I just don't let it show." And that was the truth. Michael was afraid of failing Rudy. But he knew that if he could reach his new destination, that Rudy would be safe. He and his sister, because the people who owed Michael the favor would watch over them for him. And they would not fail.
"I wish I was as strong as you," Rudy replied, heaving a wistful sigh. "You're like superman, Michael. You get hit with a bullet and it doesn't even slow you down." He put a final piece of tape on the new bandage and asked, "Does it hurt?" Meaning the bullet wounds. Rudy felt like crying over paper cuts, so he couldn't even image what being shot felt like.
Michael stood up, adjusting to the pain that washed over him, letting it roll off the edge of his awareness, like a duck would shake off water. "Not really," he replied. Michael went back into the other room and pulled a loose fitting t-shirt from his duffle bag. In doing so he remembered his sketch book. He pulled on the shirt, then turned to Rudy, who had followed him. "This is for you," Michael said, holding out the sketch pad.
Rudy loved presents, so he took it eagerly, but wasn't sure what to do with it. He didn't know how to draw. "It's nice," he said, politely.
"Open it," Michael instructed, hiding a smile.
"Wow..." Rudy whispered, as he obeyed. On the first page was a beautiful sketch of himself and Belinda. They had their arms around each other and were smiling. It was similar to his favorite picture, which Michael had packed for him, but not quite the same. Carefully, Rudy traced his fingertips over it. "It's like a real picture," he said softly, feeling in awe.
Michael shrugged. "It's just a drawing," he replied, dismissing his talent. "So you like it?" He wanted to give Rudy a moment of happiness, as well as a distraction.
Rudy nodded, his head bobbing up and down, rapidly. "It's beautiful, Michael. Thank you!" Rudy wanted to hug the other man, but felt it wise not too. For one thing, Michael looked ready to fall over. Blinking back tears, Rudy pointed at one of the beds. "Get some sleep," he ordered. "I'll watch over you now."
"That's okay, Rudy," Michael replied, slipping back into machine mode. He retrieved new clips from his duffle bag and reloaded his guns.
"You need to rest!" Rudy insisted, and he stepped forward just in time to catch Michael as he wavered. "See?" he pointed out. "You're tired and weak. You can't protect me if you're unconscious. Or dead!"
Michael refused to give in to his weakness, pulling his arm out of Rudy's grasp and standing on his own. But he was wise enough to acknowledge that Rudy did have a point. He needed to rest. "Just two hours," he countered, shaking a finger at Rudy. "I'll be angry with you if you don't wake me up in two hours." The phone calls could wait until then.
Rudy nodded. "Deal," he agreed. "Two hours."
"Thank you, Rudy," Michael said softly, as he stretched out on the bed. He slid one of his guns beneath the pillow. The other he left in his right hand.
"You're welcome, Michael," Rudy replied as he moved to sit on the other bed, the sketch pad propped on his upturned knees. "Can I keep the light on?" he asked, not wanting to bother Michael, but he was leery of the dark.
Michael smiled at him, his eyes already closed. "The light is fine, Rudy," he said, then he fell silent.
Rudy alternated between looking at his picture and watching Michael. About ten minutes passed when he realized that the other man was asleep. Sliding off the bed, Rudy retrieved a blanket from the closet shelf and spread it over Michael, carefully tucking it about him, then just as carefully reaching out to smooth a curl of hair off the other man's face. Michael didn't stir, and Rudy was feeling quite pleased with himself as he returned to his own bed and glanced at his watch. He would keep his word and wake Michael in exactly two hours.
Once Rudy had shaken Michael awake, things happened quickly. Michael called his friends, then he and Rudy took off, heading North this time. They stopped at a dinner for breakfast, then continued on their way.
Rudy didn't have much to say this morning, beyond asking Michael if he was feeling okay, about every twenty minutes. By lunch time he had learned to stop asking. They drove steadily and the air grew colder. Rudy stared out the window and sighed as it began to snow.
"What's wrong?" Michael asked, knowing that Rudy was feeling depressed.
"I was thinking about Belinda," Rudy admitted. "She loves the snow. We play in it together, and make snow angels."
Michael patted Rudy's arm. "You'll be doing that again soon," he promised. "We'll arrive at our destination by nightfall, Rudy."
Rudy was surprised. "Really?" he countered, his eyes shining with hope. At Michael's nod he questioned, "But what about the bad guys? Won't they find us?"
"I have some...friends...who will watch over you, Rudy. They'll keep the bad guys away," Michael said firmly. Of that he was certain. And he would keep in contact with them to make sure they did not fail him.
"I'm hungry," Rudy announced, turning to smile at Michael. He knew that the younger man would keep his word and protect him, so Rudy wasn't worried any more.
Michael glanced in his rear view mirror. He watched a semi pulling up on his left. At present he was in the center of a six-lane highway. Glancing back to the front window, Michael looed to his right. Another semi was gliding into traffic from an off ramp. Just then he realized what Rudy had said. "We'll stop for something to eat soon," Michael replied. He was back to glancing in the rear view mirror. The blue sedan that had been following them for the past two hours was still there. Michael knew that it was Red Cell. Knew that the time for a final confrontation had come. He glanced over at Rudy as said, "Hold on."
Rudy frowned, but did as he was told. His hands gripped the dash board. "What's going on?" he queried, fear darkening his eyes.
"We're going for a ride," Michael replied, then he stomped on the accelerator. The chevy leaped forward, nearly ramming into the back of the camaro in front of them, until Michael turned the wheel sharply to the left and slipped past him. He continued to, expertly, weave in and out of traffic at eighty miles per hour. The blue sedan followed.
"SLOW DOWN!" Rudy wailed, as he held on for dear life. Any minute now he was certain that they were going to crash and die.
Michael didn't break his concentration to reply. He kept watch on the sedan, as well as the cars he passed. Glancing over to his right, he saw one of the semi's coming up beside him. Michael pressed down harder on the accelerator and pulled up in front. From the other side came the first semi. It was matching Michael's speed, blasting it's horn to warn people to get out of it's way. Michael watched the blue sedan speed up as well. The driver knew that the chevy was about to be boxed in. What he didn't know was that he was about to become a casually. With inches to spare, Michael pulled ahead of the two semi's, both of whom pulled into his lane.
The driver of the sedan didn't have time to react as the tractor trailers cut him off. He slammed into the side of the trailer and exploded upon impact. Horns honked and cars skidded into each other, as well as the guard rails, as they tried to avoid the wreckage.
As Michael continued heading north, but at a more sedate speed, he hoped that the casualties incurred would be minimal. He felt a moment of regret for the innocent lives that might be lost, but that couldn't be helped. It never could. He looked over at Rudy who was pale and shaking. Michael sighed then said, "It's okay now, Rudy. You'll be safe."
"I will?" Rudy countered, opening his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. He had heard the explosion, but didn't want to know what caused it.
"Yes, you will," Michael confirmed. "Are you still hungry?"
Surprisingly enough, Rudy realized that he was. "I'm starving," he replied. "Can we have pizza?"
Michael nodded. "We can have anything you like." He put on his signal light and pulled over to the right lane so he could take the next exit into town.
At nightfall they reached their destination, as Michael had promised. A red van was waiting for them at a predetermined location. Michael helped Rudy gather his things together, then walked him over to the vehicle. He made introductions, shook hands with the big man who was leaning against the side, then exchanged a few words. After which, Michael went to say goodbye.
Rudy was morose as he watched Michael walk towards him. He knew that they would never see each other again and he felt regret. The time he had spent with Michael had been scary, but exciting, and Rudy believed he had made a new friend. He didn't make friends easily. "You have to go now?" Rudy said, as Michael reached him.
"Yes," Michael replied, putting a smile on his face. He was surprised to see Rudy looking so sad. "Do you have everything?" he questioned, glancing at the bags Rudy had tossed in the van.
"Yeah," Rudy sighed. Then he simply stared at Michael.
After a moment of silence Michael commented, "You never told me the end of the story, Rudy." He was referring to the Helix and the dragon tale.
Rudy nodded. "I know. I been thinking about it...but I don't have an ending. Not yet. I need to think about it some more." He looked at Michael, his eyes pleading.
"That's okay, Rudy," Michael replied. "Take your time." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a mini tape recorder and held it out. "When you are ready, tell your story on tape. Jack will send it to me." Jack was the man with the van. Rudy's new protector.
"I can do that," Rudy allowed, accepting the tape recorder. "I know how to use one of these," he offered, with a sense of pride.
Michael smiled at him. "That's good, Rudy."
Smiling back at Michael, Rudy asked the question that had been haunting him for the past few hours. "When will I see Belinda?"
"Soon," Michael replied. He refused to give an exact date, but he intended to arrange for Rudy's sister to be brought to him as soon as possible.
"Thanks," Rudy whispered, his smile becoming shaky. He knew it was time to say goodbye. For real. But then he thought of something. He had forgotten to tell Michael earlier. "Remember what you said, about me being able to pick what I wanted to do?" he queried, his eyes once again aglow with excitement.
Michael nodded. "I remember," he said softly. "Did you think of something?" It was obvious that Rudy had, but Michael didn't want to spoil the moment for him.
Rudy practically jumped up and down with excitement. "I did. I want to do what you do, Michael," he enthused, not noticing the fact that the other man had turned pale. "I wanna help people."
"I think you would be good at helping people," Michael replied, with a sudden sense of relief. Foolish of him to think, even for a moment, that Rudy would want to be a killer. The big man's thoughts were much more simple than that. "I'll make arrangements for you," Michael promised. He had a sudden inspiration as to what Rudy could do to help people. Michael knew of a private nursing home that would benefit from Rudy's big heart and strong back.
"Thank you," Rudy said, his eyes shining with sudden tears. "I'm....I'm gonna miss you, Michael,' he whispered.
Michael found it hard to smile. "I'll miss you too," he replied, and it was the truth. That said, Michael turned, intending to walk away, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
Rudy didn't know how Michael was going to respond, but he didn't care. Using caution, in regards to Michael's injuries, he pulled the slighter man into a hug. A smile crossed Rudy's face when he felt Michael hug him back. "Be safe," Rudy whispered, as he stepped back, so he could see Michael's face.
"Be good," Michael countered, a genuine smile curving his lips. He raised one hand in a wave, then he turned and walked off into the shadows. Rudy was home now, and it was time for Michael to return to Section.
NIkita returned from her mission a day later than she had expected. After debriefing she went in search of Michael. Not finding him in his office, she sought out Walter, who seemed to keep tabs on everyone. He advised her to check Michael's quarters.
Entering the room, Nikita was surprised to find Michael curled up on the bed in the corner. She didn't think he ever slept. Creeping forward, Nikita smiled as she gazed down upon him. Michael's hair was in soft disarray, dark curls falling over his forehead. In sleep his expression was sweet and innocent, and he looked about twenty years old. Nikita felt her heart ache at the sight of him, for he was more beautiful than any man had a right to be. Michael would make the angels in heaven weep with envy.
As if sensing her presence, Michael opened his eyes and smiled at Nikita. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see her there. "How was your mission?" he inquired, moving slowly to sit up. His side was still sore.
"Boring," Nikita replied, with a shrug as she sat down on the side of the bed. "You okay?" she asked, noticing that he was a bit pale, and there was a flush to his skin. Reaching out to touch his face, Nikita realized that he was feverish. "You're not well?" she questioned.
"I'm fine," Michael replied, giving his standard reply.
Nikita didn't believe him, nor did she push for details. She knew Michael would fill her in if he wanted to. "So...what did you do while I was gone? Save the world?"
Michael blinked at her. "Just a small portion of it," he deadpanned.
"Hmmmmmmmm..." NIkita drawled. "Go anywhere in particular?" She figured it couldn't hurt to ask.
"On a road trip," Michael replied. He couldn't tell her about Rudy, he was under strict orders not to. But a part of him wished that he could.
Nikita sighed, knowing that Michael was going to be enigmatic in his answers, so she changed topics. "Feel like going out for a cup of coffee? Or maybe a bite to eat?"
Michael nodded and shifted his legs over to the side of the bed. "How about pizza?" he suggested, pretending not to see the shocked look on Nikita's face.
"Pizza?" she repeated, with a shake of her head.
"With sausage and mushrooms," Michael replied, revealing his favorite. "Unless you don't like sausage and mushrooms."
Nikita opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "I love sausage and mushrooms," she replied, and it was the truth. Interesting that Michael shared her taste in pizza. "That sounds great," she confirmed, rising from the bed.
Michael followed suit. "Give me ten minutes to take a shower," he requested, still refusing to smile. He was enjoying the surprise that glimmered in Nikita's beautiful eyes.
"Sure," Nikita said, heading for the door. "I'll meet you at Walter's station." When Michael nodded confirmation, Nikita waved at him and left.
The moment she was gone, Michael reached for a photograph on the bedside table. Flipping it over, he smiled as he remembered finding it tucked in his coat pocket. A momento from Rudy. The big man was wearing a Pizza Potzzo hat, and had an huge grin on his face. Michael studied it for a moment, as if committing it to memory, then he opened the bed table drawer and placed the picture inside.
The picture would be a reminder to Michael that somewhere deep inside of him he still remembered innocence. And that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't lost his soul. It had simply been misplaced.
THE END!!
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