![](http://www.thesplitpersonality.net/graphics/spacer3.gif"){kind=spacer}
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 sat in the conference room with only Operations and Madeline in attendence. He knew that he had been called in for a priority briefing. He hadn't realized that it was of level one securtiy. So now he paid strict attention as Operations explained.
"Congressman Edward Kerswill and his family were vacationing in Cairo when they were kidnapped," Operations said, cutting straight to the point, as usual. "We know they were taken by IRA terrorist Patrick Shea and that he is being assissted by a mercenary named Raynard Fellini."
"I've heard of Felini," Michael interjected.
Operations nodded. "Then you know that he's one of the best. He plays hardball and has no qualms about killing children. The congressman has two, ages ten and six."
Michael absorbed this information then asked, "What does this have to do with Section?" Rescue missions of politicians didn't normally fall under their jurisdiction.
"We've been asked to do a favor," Madeline replied. "Congressman Kerswill is a good friend of the President's. He wants him and his family back safely."
"Why did Shea kidnap the Congressman. For what purpose?" Michael queried.
Operations was pleased by the question. Michael was always thinking ahead. "Shea wants to make a trade. The Congressman for IRA leader, Colin Monihan, who happens to be vacationing in a Federal penitentary. He's serving a life sentence."
Michael nodded. "The massacre in Libre," he stated, remembering the headlines.
"That's right," Madeline confirmed. "The President has a special tasks force, with a subdivision that is very hush-hush. Their codename is WOLF, and they're very good at what they do. Which is similar to what we do. They're seven man team whose specialty is rescue and infiltration. They're pretty good at clean and sweep too."
"Then, what do they want from us?" Michael inquired. He felt as if he had missed something.
Operations perched on the corner of the desk. "Let's just say that you're going in as back-up. The political ramifications, should the Congressman, or member of his family die, are unthinkable. We have to get them out safely, and time is the enemy."
Michael could understand the seriousness of the situation but he could guess that there was more to it. He didn't ask what, but he did have other questions. "Will I have access to back up?" he asked, already guessing what the answer would be.
"No," Madeline replied. She offered a smile, then explained. "You're on your own, Michael, and there's no margin for error. There is a problem, however."
"What problem?" he prompted, seeing the exchange of glances between Madeline and Operations and not liking the ramifications of it.
Operations grimaced, then stood up and began to pace. "We have intel that suggests one of the members of WOLF is a traitor, and that he will try to assassinate the Congressman. It's up to you to find out which one it is and cancel." Operations stopped pacing and moved to stand before Michael. "Do I make myself clear?" he queried, his eyes glittering like chips of ice in a face that looked like it was carved from stone.
Michael met and held Operations' gaze as he replied, "Perfectly. When do I leave?"
"Right now," Madeline replied. "Plane is ready, your gear is on board." She held out a CD in a plastic case. "Here is your tactical along with the files of the members of WOLF, as well as files on the Congressman, Shea and Fellini. Study it carefully, Michael."
"I will," he replied, rising from his chair. He took the CD then headed for the door.
Madeline moved to stand beside Operations. She knew that he was worried. "Michael will succeed," she said softly, hoping to reassure him.
Operations heaved a sigh, then pressed his fingertips to his temples. Pain throbbed in them like the beating of a drum. "If he doesn't, we'll be heading for a war," he hissed.
"Maybe we should have told him exactly what's at stake," Madeline suggested.
"Why?" Operations countered, with a wry smile. "I think we made it clear enough that failure is not acceptable. A part of me wishes I could go with him." The confession was not easily made, and Operations would never have admitted it to anyone else.
Madeline put one hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard. "You've taught Michael well," she said softly. "He's the best. Second only to you."
Operations took Madeline's hand and brought it to his lips, but then he released it and his eyes frosted over. "I hope to god he's better than me, for all our sakes." With that, Operations left the room.
"He is," Madeline whispered to herself, then she headed out as well. There was work to do. And, before too long, she was expecting a visitor.
Nikita fidgeted throughout the entire briefing. Operations was very uptight and quick to jump down everyone's throat. That, alone, made Nikita nervous. But the fact that Michael was absent from the briefing worried her most of all. The moment they were dismissed, Nikita headed down the corridor to Madeline's office. She breezed in and went straight to the desk, where the dark-haired woman sat, a smile on her face. Nikita got the impression that Madeline had been waiting for her. "Where's Michael?" she demanded, eschewing the ammenities in lieu of getting to the point.
Madeline gestured for Nikita to be seated, and remained stubbornly silent, until the young woman had done so. "Michael is a mission," she replied, seeing no reason to lie. Not this time. Of course, in Madeline's case, she seldom did lie. She simply didn't tell the entire truth.
"What kind of mission?" Nikita prompted. She knew that Michael ran other missions besides the ones that she was on, but it wasn't like him to be left out of a mission, such as the one she had just been briefed on.
"He's on a private mission," Madeline allowed. She let a cool smile curve her lips. "You don't need to know the details, Nikita. So don't even bother to ask. I suggest that concentrate on your own mission. Michael will be back soon." Madeline's smile faded. "Is that all?" she questioned, making it obvious that she was busy and that she had just gone out of her way to make time for Nikita.
The beautiful blond gritted her teeth to keep back the questions that threatened to spill out. No point in asking them. Nikita knew she wouldn't get any answers. Besides which, she was set to leave for Germany in less than two hours and she had business to take care of before leaving. So she stood up and waggled her fingers. "Later, Madeline." Turning on her heel, Nikita strode out of the office.
Madeline watched her go with a genuine smile on her face. She wondered if Nikita realized why she had come here? Why it mattered so much to her to know about Michael's whereabouts. Madeline doubted that she did. But someday the realization would hit Nikita, and that was something that Madeline didn't want to miss.
The WOLF team had set up temporary head quarters in an abandoned church in a small town just outside of Algiers. Shea was holding the Congressman and his family in an abandoned military hangar about fifty miles away. When Michael walked into the church, the seven man team was studying the schematics of the hangar. Michael had memorized them on the plane ride over. One glance at the diagram on the wall and he knew that the schematics that Birkhoff had procured were more detailed. That pleased Michael, for it gave him the advantage. He recognized the team leader and strode over to him. "You've been expecting me," he offered in greeting.
Captain Thomas Jax was the team leader. A lean man, in his early forties, with a buzz cut of gray-blond hair and eyes like steel. The arm he held out was corded with muscle. "You must be Michael," he replied, smiling. When his outstretched hand was ignored, Jax quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise made no reaction. He simply turned to his men and made introductions.
The other six men greeted Michael with professional courtesy, but one of them, Bristol, said what they were all thinking. "I suppose you represent the best of your unit?" he queried. They had been told that Michael was from a special tactics group with a secret security level equal to, or above, their own. But Bristol found it hard to accept Michael as a player. He looked like a *pretty boy* to Bristol. Even wore fancy black gear, as opposed to the gray and black camoflage that he and his team were wearing. When he got no response to his question, he asked it again. "You the best, or what?"
Michael turned to face Bristol, his expression blank, his eyes cold. "I suppose," he allowed.
"You suppose..." Bristol drawled, smirking. He turned to his companions. "Well...why don't we just find out?" he challenged. Then, without warning, he launched himself at Michael. A moment later he hit the ground when Michael dropped him with a crescent kick.
But that was only the beginning. To other members of the team made a combined assault. Michael deflected their hits, disabled one with a blow to the groin, the other he tossed over his shoulder.
Jax had watched with a smile on his face, but now he stepped forward before the others could join in the fray. "Listen up!" he bellowed. "We're here to work as a team, not to fight each other." As he spoke he glared at Bristol and the other two who were down. "Michael just showed you he's got the goods by making a monkey's ass out of you three. Maybe if you apologize to him, he'll show you his moves."
A twitter of laughter from the other three team members eased the tension. To a degree. Michael helped the tag team guys to their feet and accepted their apologies. Bristol he ignored, when the other man glared at him. Michael wasn't interested in making friends. He turned to Jax. What is your tactical?" he asked, moving over to the schematics on the wall. "You really are the best, aren't you?" Jax commented, as he moved to stand beside Michael. He shook his head when the young man didn't respond. Didn't matter. His words had been more of a statement than a compliment. And now it was time to get down to work. Four, innocent, lives depended on it.
************
The plan was to infiltrate the compound where the Congressman and his family were being held. There were three areas where the team could slip in, undetected. Three, two-man teams would do so. Jax would remain point-guard and Michael intended to find his own way in, although he allowed the others to believe he would be a rover. In other words, he would be their back-up.
As the team left the ATV carrier, Michael took a moment to study them. He had been doing so since his arrival. He had to find the assassin and stop him, rescue the Congressman and his family, and make an attempt to bring Shea and Fellini in alive. Or, at least, one of them. Madeline's preference was Fellini.
The team glided toward the perimeter of the compound and one thing was made perfectly clear at first glance. They wouldn't make their way in as hoped. The compound was more heavily guarded than expected and lit up like a christmas festival, with floodlights everywhere and guards in towers. Michael wasn't surprised. He had expected as much. It amused him that Jax hadn't prepared for this. Then he reminded himself that Section's technology was far superior to the governments own. Section was advanced in ways that the rest of the world wouldn't be experiencing for at least a decade. And, by then, they would have advanced even further.
Bristol looked at his Captain. "What now?" he queried.
Michael answered him. "We need a scout to survey the point locations of the guards. And it would be helpful to know where Shea and Fellini are headquartered, before we make a move. We'll have a better understanding of their strategical layout." Michael had learned, from Madeline, that to know the enemy was to understand how they think. Also, one could learn from the architectural structure of their opponents domain. In other words, the way they set up house could give insight to their strengths and weakness. Michael not only wanted to discover locations, but he wanted to study the layout for the best areas and points at which to infiltrate.
Jax couldn't hide a smile. "I suppose you're volunteering, Michael?" he countered, a knowing look in his eyes. Jax was no fool. He knew that Michael was more advanced than he own men, and he saw no reason not to put his talents to use. "Go ahead," he conceeded, when Michael merely looked at him. He shook his head when the younger man turned away and ran off. A moment later he seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness.
Bristol was furious. "Why the hell did you send him in?" he raged. "I'm the best scout you've got!"
"I know that," Jax replied, his tone quiet. He patted Bristol's shoulder. "But Michael is the best the government has to offer, so I'm gonna put him to good use. Chill out, Bristol. You'll have your chance." With that, Jax leaned up against the jeep to wait.
Michael returned twenty minutes later. He went straight to Jax to deliver his report. "I've located Fellini and Shea, and counted a minimum of twenty-five guards."
Jax whistled. "Shea is playing it safe. He's called in all his troops."
"Most of the guards are mercenaries," Michael countered. "Fellini's men."
"What makes you so sure?" Bristol interjected. Michael's self-assured attitude annoyed him to no end.
Michael turned to glare at the other man, his eyes like silver-green chips of ice. "I do my homework," he replied, his voice whisper-soft. Michael knew that Bristol had it in for him, but didn't care. He refocused his attention on Jax. "I couldn't infiltrate deep enough to discover the Congressman's whereabouts," he admitted.
Jax grimaced, then scratched his head. "Well, it would help to know that before we go in," he said, stating the obvious. Then he grinned at MIchael. "Any suggestions?"
"Let's ask someone," Michael countered, seeing the surprised look on the other man's face.
"Like who?" Jax countered, not certain whether or not Michael was serious.
Michael was. He offered a slight smile and replied, "One of the guards."
Jax was impressed. It was a good idea. He looked at Bristol and grinned. "Think you can handle that, soldier?" he challenged.
"No problem," Bristol drawled, glaring at MIchael. "I'll be back in a flash." With those words, he was gone.
Michael watched him go, then he moved to a small ridge where he could study the layout of the compound below them. After a moment, he heard Jax move up beside him. Michael remained silent, his eyes tracking the darkness.
Jax studied Michael for a moment. He was more than a little curious about him, but sensed that any questions he asked would go unanswered. So he made small talk. "Think we can pull this off?"
"Your file shows that your team has a ninety-five percent success rate," Michael replied. That was all.
"We do," Jax allowed, with a sense of pride coloring his voice. "But you haven't answered my question."
Michael glanced over at him for a moment, then said, "There's no margin for error." With that, he turned and walked back to the jeep, feeling Jax's gaze burning into his back.
Ten minutes later, Bristol returned with one of the guards. The man was arabic and wore a turban. Blood flowed down one side of his face and his hands were bound behind his back. He was gagged as well. Bristol smirked at Michael. "Here you are," he gloated. "One guard, all wrapped up and hand delivered.
"Good work," Jax complimented his officer. Then he reached out to remove the gag. Eyes cold he demanded of the prisoner, "Tell us where Congressman Kerswill and his family are being held or you'll die." Jax was not happy when the man spat at his feet then let loose with a string of Arabic.
Bristol cursed. "Great! He doesn't speak English."
Michael stepped forward then and spoke softly. "Mahuwa ismuk?"
"Say what?" Bristol shot back. "What did you just say?"
"I asked him what his name was," Michael replied. His attention was totally focused on the Arabic soldier.
Jax shook his head. "You speak Arabic," he drawled, stating what was obviously a fact. "You're just full of surprises Michael."
Bristol wasn't as impressed. "We don't need to know his name!" he hissed. "Ask him where the congressman is being held." Bristol would have said more, but Jax cut him off with a sharp wave of one hand.
Michael wasn't fazed by Bristol's attitude. His eyes were locked on the Arabic man's face. Pulling out his gun and chambering a bullet, Michael quietly explained to the soldier that he was going to die. The question was...how? Slow and torturously, or quick and painless. The Arabic man didn't respond so much to Michael's threats as to the coldness in his eyes. Falling to his knees, he blubbered an answer. Michael smiled then pumped a bullet into the man's heart. He toppled over and lay in a heap.
Jax grinned, but noticed that Bristol was a bit stunned. Michael was not someone to mess with. They had all killed in the line of duty, but Michael was coldly efficient in a way that Jax admired. "What did he tell you?" Jax questioned.
"The Congressman and his family are being held in the tower in the west end of the compound," Michael replied. "He's heavily guarded, and the area is booby trapped with mini-mines and motion detectors."
"Shea has spared no expense," Jax replied, expelling a soft whistle.
Michael nodded. "That's why he's hired the best. Fellini deals in state of the art technology." As he spoke, Michael was unzippering on of the pockets of his vest. From it he removed a small, electronic device.
Jax was curious. "What's that?"
"It detects heat emissions," Michael explained.
"So what?" Bristol interjected, making a face.
One of the other team members spoke up. Martinez, AKA the *gadget* man. Electronics specialist. "It will detect the location of the mines," he guessed, looking at Michael for confirmation.
Michael nodded. "That's right. It also senses electronic pulses." He could see the light in Martinez's eyes. Like a little boy at christmas. The other man would love to study the device, but there was no time for that. Michael took a mental note to tell Walter that his latest creation was a hit. Now Michael only hoped it would work out in the field. So far it had only been tested in theory.
"How do you want to work this?" Jax inquired. He was more than willing to let Michael take command at this point. All that mattered now was freeing the Congressman and his family.
"Take point as originally planned," Michael replied, then he looked at the remaining team members. "Spread out in two-man teams to create a diversion. Use grenades and sniper fire, but be discreet. Get as close as you can and take out as many guards as possible in a ten minute window before you start making noise. The minute you wake them up, they're going to know an attempt is being made to free Kerswill."
Jax nodded, then signalled to his team. "You heard the man. Time to get this show on the road." He grinned, as he watched his men slip on night vision goggles, then creep off. He was surprised to notice that Michael had already disappeared. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.
Michael made his way to the west end of the compound with silent stealth. He glided in and out of the shadows, his eyes tracking the area around him. Guards could be positioned anywhere. Although his senses were attuned to his surroundings, Michael had but one focus. To free the Congressman and his family. He thought briefly of the two children, then an image flashed before him. Nikita. Briefly Michael wondered what she would think if she knew he was rescuing innocents. It occurred to him to question why it mattered what she thought. But Michael knew he didn't want to face the answer. So he dissolved Nikita's image and moved on.
************
Michael made his way into the tower. Moving with quiet precision, he took out four guards. Once he reached the location where the Congressman and his family were being held, he pulled out Walter's gadget. From another pocket Michael retrieved a pair of gray tinted glasses and slipped them on. His guess was that Fellini had used laser beams as trip wires for the mines, as well as the motion detectors. Sure enough. From the moment the glasses were in place, Michael could see the luminous, blue beams. A smile quirked his mouth as he set the device to emit negative electronic pulses. According to Walter, they would deactivate the laser beams, but only for thirty seconds or so. Michael would still have have to cut power. He located the fuse box, realizing that the compound was run on generator. That meant there would be a back up, so once the power was cut, he would have to move fast.
After typing in a sequence, Michael hit the trigger switch on the device. The laser beams faded. Moving swiftly, he ran to the fuse box and pulled the main switch. Darkness washed over him, but Michael had a pencil beam flashlight ready. He could hear the stir of commotion about him and made his move. With luck, he would have about one minute before the back up generator kicked in. Thanks to the information supplied by the, now dead, Arabic guard, Michael knew exactly where the Congressman was being held. By the time the lights came back on, the two guards at the door were dead.
Congressman Kesrwill was a bit stunned by the appearance of a young man dressed in black, but didn't hesitate to follow directions when told to follow him. He herded his family together, and they moved out. Michael reached for the young boy and scooped him into his arms when the child started to cry. All around them was the sound of gun fire and shouts. The WOLF team was creating the diversion that Michael needed to get a head start. But it would be brief. Falling into a run, Michael led Kerswill and his family down the maze of corridors. They made it to the exit without interference, but Michael knew time was against them. He could hear voices moving closer. Handing the boy over to his mother, Michael was relieved to see Bristol step out of the shadows. He had been ready to fire on the other man. "Take the Congressman and his family back to the check point," Michael ordered.
Bristol looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. He realized that Michael was trusting him to get Kerswill and the others to safety. With a nod, he gathered the family to him and moved out.
This left Michael free to finish his job. First thing he did was remove a C-4 explosive from his pocket. He ran back inside the tower and planted it on the wall. Then he ran back out, pulling a trigger from his pocket as he went. A moment later he pushed the button and from all directions, the sounds of explosions could be heard. Instead of heading back to the check point, Michael ran south. That's where Shea and Fellini were located. Michael had to attempt to retrieve at least one of them. He reached their HQ and found the aftermath of an explosion. Part of the celing had caved in. There were several small fires, and dust and debris rained down. Shea was lying under a beam, his neck at an odd angle. He was dead. Michael located Fellini close by. He was unconscious but had a pulse. His leg looked to be broken. Michael was not concerned about that. He hauled Fellini over his shoulder and headed out. Once outside the building he pressed the trigger button again. Another round of explosives went off. All of them had been planted by Michael during his scouting expedition, unbeknownst to the WOLF team.
Knowing that time was against him, Michael headed for the check point. He was about fifty yards away when he stumbled over a body. Martinez. The man was dead. Michael saw the blood coating his neck. Gunshot wound. His lips forming a grim line, Michael studied his surroundings. A moment later he moved off, away from the check point. He had one last job to do.
Bristol got the Congressman and his family safely back to the check point. Jax was waiting for them and smiling as he watched Bristol help Kerswill and the others into the back of the ATV carrier van. It occurred to Bristol to wonder where the rest of his team members were, but that question was, partially, answered, when he looked down and saw a leg. After closing the van door, Bristol walked around the side of the ATV to discover Weekes lying there. The other mans eyes were wide-open, but unseeing. He was dead. Bristol shook his head as he stared at the blood that covered Weekes' chest. It made no sense that the man was dead. Not here, at the check point. He was about to call out to his commanding officer when he heard footsteps behind him. Whirling around, he saw Jax standing before him, pointing a gun. Bristol raised his hands, instinctively. "Captain," he began. "What's going on?"
Jax smiled. "Party's over, Bristol," he drawled.
"What are you doing?" Bristol demanded, as understanding dawned. "You killed Weekes!"
"I did," Jax confessed. He wasn't in the least bit remorseful about it. "I have my orders, Sargent." A cold light glittered in his eyes as his finger tightened on the trigger. "You were a good soldier, Bristol. I'm gonna miss you," he said. But instead of shooting, Jax gasped and his eyes went wide. But then the light in them faded and his body collapsed.
Bristol felt himself panting as he gazed down at Jax. A bullet hole marred his forehead. Making an attempt to control his shaking, Bristol glanced up and saw a figure in black moving towards him. He reached for his gun, even though he recognized Michael. "What the hell is going on here?" Bristol demanded. He was spooked by the fact that the other man kept walking towards him. Michael's gun was in his hand, but held at his side. He faced the gun pointed at him without flinching. There was no fear in his cool eyes. "ANSWER ME!" Bristol shouted. His hand shook so bad that he had to use the other one to steady it.
Michael stepped over to Jax's body and stared down at the man. He heard the pounding on the door of the van and Kerswill's shouts, but ignored them. Michael was pleased that the Congressman and his family were locked inside. It was better that no one see this. Michael had called for housekeeping and the area would soon be sanitized. He prodded Jax's body with the toe of his boot and a cold smile curved his lips for a moment, then he gave Bristol his answers. "Jax was hired by Fellini to assassinate the Congressman," Michael said softly.
"I don't believe you!" Bristol snarled, although the gun in his hand wavered. Too many chaotic thoughts vied for attention in his head. He didn't understand any of this. Bristol had been with WOLF for five years. The Captain was a good man. "Jax wasn't a traitor," Bristol whispered, as if trying to convince himself. His eyes glared at Michael. "Even if he was, why would Fellini hire him?"
"Insurance," Michael replied. He reached out and took Bristol's gun. The other man was clearly in shock but Michael didn't have time to coddle him. "Let's go," he ordered.
Bristol started to move, then he stood his ground and shook his head. "Wait. What about the others?" The rest of his team were still out there.
Michael didn't blink as he replied, "They're dead." He had found the bodies on his way back. Jax had lain in wait for them taking a sniper point. It had been an easy matter to take them out as each one returned.
"Dead..." Bristol repeated softly. He believed Michael, but found it hard to accept. Jax had murdered his own team.
"Get in the back," Michael directed, reaching for the door handle. "Take care of Kerswill." He knew that Bristol needed a distraction. Kids were good at providing that.
Bristol nodded but still didn't move. A thought had occurred. "I have to contact my superiors," he said. Bristol was a good soldier and would follow the code. Besides which, his team mates deserved a decent, and honorable, burial.
Michael understood what Bristol was thinking, but he didn't have time for it. Nor could he explain to the other man that his world was about to turn upside down. Michael had no choice now but to take Bristol back to Section with him. The life the young soldier had led was over for him. He could never go back to it. As far as the government was concerned, Bristol had died with his companions. Michael sighed and said, "It's been taken care of. Let's go." This time Bristol obeyed him. He stepped into the back of the van, then Michael closed the door. He then slipped into the driver's seat. They had one more stop to make before heading to the airport where a plane would be waiting for the Congressman. A chopper would be there for Michael and Bristol. But first Michael had to retrieve Fellini, whom he had left sedated, and tied up, behind a tree. With a sense of regret that he couldn't explain, Michael turned the key in the ignition then drove off.
When Michael entered his office, over twenty-four hours later, it was to discover Nikita waiting for him. He was glad to see the beautiful blond but, at the same time, Michael wasn't prepared to face her. So he stood just inside the doorway, looking down at her.
Nikita sensed Michael's hesitation and she smiled at him. "How's things?" she asked, noticing that he looked weary and that there were shadows beneath his gorgeous eyes. Whatever the mission he had been on, obviously it had been a rough one."
"Fine," Michael replied. He thought that he should move to sit behind his desk. There were reports to be written. But, for some reason, he stood frozen to the spot.
"Successful mission?" Nikita prompted. She was hoping she could get him to talk about it.
Michael didn't take the bait. He knew what Nikita was doing. So all he said was, "Yes." But a part of Michael felt that his answer was a lie. He had done all that had been asked of him, yet he was bothered by the fact that five, good, men had died. And that the sixth had lost his free will. Bristol would still face life and death situations. But they would no longer be on his own terms.
Tucking a stray lock of pale hair behind one ear, Nikita rose to her feet to confront Michael. He was less verbal than usual and she was worried about him. A thought occurred that she might be able to provide a distraction against whatever dark thoughts were haunting him. "Are you busy?" she questioned, her eyes twinkling.
"Why?" Michael countered, a touch of suspicion coloring his voice. He never knew what to expect from Nikita. Her moods were as variable as the weather.
"I thought we could go see a movie, or something," she remiled. A soft laugh escaped her as she realized that Michael was apprehensive about her invitation.
After a long moment of silence had passed between them, Michael gave Nikita a response that surprised them both. "Would you like to go dancing?" he queried, in a voice that was soft and sensual.
Nikita was stunned and it took her a moment to recover. "Dancing.." she repeated, staring deep into Michael's eyes. When he held her gaze, Nikita realized that it was a sincere invitation. So she smiled and said, "I'd love to, Michael. It's a date." Looping her arm through his, she led him out of the office and down the corridor. There was no way she was going to give Michael a chance to renege on his invitation. "Where shall we go?" she asked, her eyes on his sculptured profile.
"Where ever you like," Michael whispered. He didn't care if they danced out in the park beneath the moonlight. All that mattered right now was that he would be able to hold Nikita in his arms. Michael believed that his heart had long ago grown cold, and dead. But, sometimes, when he was with Nikita, he could almost remember what it felt like to be happy. They were moments that he treasured for no one could take them away from him. The demons that tormented his soul didn't allow for many *happy* memories. Most of them were dark and tarnished. But Nikita had a way of reminding Michael that in every darkness there was light. If you looked hard enough. For Michael, Nikita was that light. And he prayed, to whatever god would listen, that it would never grow dim.
THE END
Send suggestions or comments to Shelly