A note from Tina, before you start reading. Loads of my information about survival in the wild was taken from an old book of mine that I had bought when I was a cub scout den leader, called ‘Survive Safely Anywhere. The SAS Survival Manual.' Also, the Boy Scout Manual was a help. Plus some of it is knowledge that I have picked up through the years on my own wilderness camp out and hikes. As the author of the book mentioned above does and I have to, too, a disclaimer belongs here. These few snippets of information are, to our knowledge, factual, but are not intended to be used by themselves as remedies or techniques. If survival training is important to you, your local library and bookstore has lots of books that can help you train yourself more fully. It will be solely your responsibility if you inflict injury on yourself or on others if you apply these or any other survival techniques without additional training and instruction. Be careful. Use your common sense. That said, on with my story.

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

"I'm going to do what... go where?" Nikita uttered these words to Birkoff with all the venom she was capable of. Birkoff's eyes widened comically, but then relaxed. He was enjoying delivering this news too much to feel uneasy....yet.

"Madeline has decided that Level One Operatives need to keep their survival skills sharp and current, so she has scheduled a trip for five of you to the deep forest." Birkoff worked hard to keep the smirk out of his voice. Nikita still noticed his smugness and mentally sent herself a memo to plan some sort of retribution for his amusement.

"When is this little excursion supposed to take place?" Nikita had closed her eyes and her reaction seemed extreme for even this announcement.

"Tomorrow." Nikita inwardly groaned. Her breath exhaled in a deliberate manner. Of all the rotten timing. She was having the mother of all cases of PMS and this training exercise should coincide precisely with the start of a truly horrendous period. She could always sense when a bad one was coming. Oh God in Heaven, why now? Birkoff looked at Nikita in a puzzled manner She seemed a bit on edge, dangerous even. He decided to tread a bit more carefully.

"Problem with this? Anything I can help you with?" Birkoff sounded almost sweet. Unfortunately, in her present mood, nobody could be sweet or considerate enough to suit Nikita. She was in a truly sour state of mind. But, she could be magnanimous. She tamped down, with difficulty, the inclination to break his fingers one at a time. She took a deep breath instead and opened her eyes.

"Madeline in her office?" Birkoff noted the set of her jaw. Weird. She seemed to be gritting her teeth.

"Uh, yeah. You probably can just go on in. I'll let her know you're coming." Nikita just nodded and moved away. Birkoff let out a sigh of relief. Why did he suddenly feel like a vicious lioness had just decided to spare him, the cornered prey? He rotated his shoulders to release the tension he could feel tightening up his neck. Women! Who can figure them out? He turned back to his monitor. Time to make a packet and then notify Michael of the new mission.

*****

"I'm sorry to hear of your physical difficulties...." Nikita's hands made fists. This didn't sound like a reprieve from this idiotic survival training session. She sat perfectly still in her chair and pinned her eyes on her superior.

Madeline continued on, safe in the knowledge that even a cold operative suffering from PMS wouldn't have the guts to attack her in her own office. "But, this may actually be fortuitous." Nikita's eyes widened and then narrowed menacingly. "In your stressed physical condition, you will be truly tested. I would be interested in the results of your ordeal. Your experiences may be useful in planning how to handle female operatives in the future."

Nikita said nothing. She now appeared to be picking her attack points on Madeline's body. Interesting, thought Madeline. She's sitting still, yet I feel the hostility emanating from her.

"Now, I'm sorry if you personally don't like this exercise, but the training is still going to go ahead as I planned. I will be generous though and allow you to carry all the ‘personal' supplies you may need. Keep in mind, though, that these supplies would probably not be available otherwise, in a combat situation." Madeline paused and waited for some comment. Nothing, but Nikita was starting to breath deeply and determinedly.

Madeline unconcernedly went on, "Please don't ask Medical for drugs to alleviate your symptoms. Only use over-the-counter medication tonight."

Nikita's eyes had narrowed into slits. Maybe it was time to get her out of this office. Now, even Madeline was feeling prickles of unease along her nerve endings. "That's all, Nikita. The briefing will be in the morning at five a.m. You and the others will be dropped in the forest two hours later. Dismissed." Madeline watched as Nikita slowly and consciously opened her clenched fists and put them on the arms of the chair to push herself up. Moving in an uncharacteristically stiff way, Nikita made her way out of the office. Madeline relaxed when the door closed behind Nikita. She empathized with Nikita, really she did. Any woman would.

But, Madeline almost felt sorrier for the men who would be near Nikita in the next few days. Especially Michael.

*****

Nikita left Section immediately afterwards. Her physical condition was deteriorating rapidly. Deep drawing cramps were beginning to claw at her abdomen. A headache was developing that felt like a slowly tightening vise grip across her temples. Her clothes felt tight. Ripples of tension traveled along the muscles of her arms and shoulders. Her legs felt shaky. Oh yeah, this was going to be a ripper.

As she walked gingerly towards the exit, she mentally warned everybody in her path to stay clear. The look on her face must have been telling them something. Operatives and technicians alike parted like the Red Sea as she approached. Eyes followed her progress across the room. As she passed by Walter's station, he absent mindedly looked up. Walter's eyes widened at her demeanor and he looked concerned. As he took a brave step towards Nikita, she didn't even pause in her uneven stride.

"Sugar?" Without looking in his direction, Nikita just shook her head wearily and walked past. All her thoughts were focused on stopping at the nearest pharmacy to Section. She needed some super strong medication. From experience, though, she knew that even the strongest of the female formulas would only take the edge off. But, that was better than nothing. Walter secured his station and made his way to Michael's office. At the open door to Michael's office, he paused, but then charged right in.

"What's wrong with Nikita?" Walter didn't wait for Michael to acknowledge his presence, but with those words, Michael's head lifted from his keyboard and monitor and he focused all his attention on Walter.

"What do you mean?" She had seemed a bit tense this morning, but not enough to raise Michael's internal alarm. When he questioned her, she forced a smile and reassured Michael that she was fine, just not feeling one hundred percent. It was near to her period, she told him. Michael hadn't thought anymore about it, except to make a mental note to give Nikita a bit of extra pampering that night. Maybe a relaxing hot bubble bath where he could sponge her skin gently.

Walter continued, but with the perplexed manner of a male who senses that the answer may be something of a female thing, therefore he was uncomfortable with the topic, "She just left and she looked...." Walter struggled for a word and found nothing better than, "crabby." Michael's eyebrows lifted at the word.

"I'll look into it." Walter was glad to pass off the baton to Michael and he gratefully backed out of the office.

"You do that and let me know if there is anything I can do to help." Michael nodded thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair to think for a few moments. Had he missed something? Michael hated no knowing exactly what was going on.

Michael suspected that Nikita was experiencing female physical difficulties. With the male gift for underestimating the female condition at this time of the month, he didn't think he had any reason for concern. Nikita would be fine. She was a strong woman, not prone to succumbing to physical infirmities. Michael would be seeing her later tonight. She would probably be her usual sweet self. The matter mentally concluded to his satisfaction, he leaned forward over his desk and his fingers became poised over his keyboard.

"Michael?" It was Birkoff on the intercom.

"Yes." Michael knew that there weren't any new missions on the pad tonight. He had been planning to leave in a few minutes. He had just been finishing the final report on the last mission.

"Madeline has scheduled a survival training session for the next few days since there doesn't seem to be anything urgent brewing. I am sending across the details to you right now."

Michael's eyes flickered and he asked Birkoff, "Is Nikita included?" This might explain why she had looked so ‘crabby' to Walter.

"Yeah and Cameron, Stuart, and James. Sounds like you all will have a fun camping trip. Say hi to Smokey the Bear for me." Michael noticed the gloating sound in Birkoff's voice. If he had shown any of that to Nikita, it would be wise of him to start watching his back until she forgot her pique with him. Michael's mouth moved in a fractional start of a smile. Maybe he could give her some small satisfaction right now.

"Hold off on calling the others in. I need to speak with Madeline first." Michael issued the order and cut off the intercom. He hit a few keys on his computer to back out of his program, smoothly stood up from his chair, left his office, and made his way to Madeline's office for a little talk about the personnel that would be included on this trip.

***********

Nikita sat alone on one side of the campfire, methodically running the blade of her knife over a sharpening stone. A piece of quartz, if Walter wasn't mistaken.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

She would pause momentarily and peer at the blade in thought, examining every minute surface for nicks or imperfections that might hamper its smooth slide into human flesh and bone. Then she would resume her sharpening routine with a serious and concentrated look on her face. Four men faced her on the other side of the campfire. All of them focused on the movement of the knife and the look on her face.

Birkoff leaned into Cameron's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "She's really spooking me out."

Cameron didn't look away from Nikita and whispered back, "If we jump her all at once, we might be able to get that knife away from her." Walter heard this and his eyes widened. Then he quietly spoke to Cameron.

"You go first, Cam. We'll all back you up." Cameron looked away momentarily from Nikita's movements. His eyes were incredulous until he realized that Walter was joking.

Still whispering, "Me? She could fillet me and stake me out over the fire before any of you could lay a hand on her." Michael had been listening to the conversation. In this instance, he was one of the guys, faced with the overwhelming presence of a truly dangerous woman in their midst, her hold on the civilized world tenuous at best. The other three men sensed that even Michael was not safe from her wrath, so they included him in their frightened union.

The survival group had met at five that morning for their briefing. Michael had relished the look on Birkoff's face as he had tried to plead again with Madeline to be excused from this trip. Madeline had given him ‘the look' that had stopped him cold. Birkoff had thumped his head down on the table and his arms out flat on its surface. He communicated clearly to Madeline how upset he was. With a small smile teasing her lips, she continued with her outline of what she expected on the trip.

Birkoff knew that, short of a major mission landing on top of them within the next few minutes, he was going camping with the rest of them. He realized that it was futile to hope for a crisis that would bump him off the roster. Madeline knew, as well as Birkoff honestly did, that his personal team was fully capable of running the minor missions being executed. The only reason he could possibly stay in Section was if a mission turned sour. God knows, he had tried that logic with Madeline; that maybe he should stick around just in case of an unexpected glitch. She hadn't bought it. Besides, with the trackers on their persons, they could be extracted rapidly if they were truly needed. Michael noted the small wicked smile on Nikita's face as she watched Birkoff try to side-step his way out of the training mission. She sent a gentler smile of gratitude over to Michael. She recognized who was responsible for this change in personnel.

Michael had also included Walter in the outing. He knew that Walter would love the outdoor trip and that he would also be a comfort and diversion for Nikita. Cameron had already been included in the original list and Michael saw no reason to exclude him. Michael and Nikita both liked the man. He was easygoing and seemed to be a younger version of Walter with his irreverent sense of humor and caring manner. If it weren't for the fact that they had to set a killer pace through the forest, Michael would have chosen this group for a small party. They would interact well with each other and their individual skills would compliment the others'.

Birkoff spoke to the male contingent around their campsite, "How come she has a knife anyway? Weren't we supposed to be unarmed and without any supplies? Live completely off the land?" The men all looked from one to another for an answer. Michael gave them the expected answer.

"She brought it herself. Any of you want to point out that she shouldn't have it?" As a unit, the other men shuddered. Heads shook in the negative and they watched her hypnotic motions with the knife.

Walter said reluctantly, "Well, it seems to be keeping her occupied." The men's eyes once again followed the blade as it glinted in the firelight and moved across the stone.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

Birkoff wasn't through complaining, "I don't know why Madeline added Walter and me to the list for this hike at the last minute. I'm not a cold op. I don't need to know how to live in the wild like this."

Michael answered patiently, although it seemed like the hundredth time since they had left Section that he had to do so, "She made the correct decision to include you and Walter, too. You have been out of Section on missions. The potential exists that you could be in exactly this kind of situation someday."

Actually, Michael felt sorry for Birkoff. He seemed so lost and disorientated without his computers. The poor guy's fingers seemed to twitch as if in search for their missing keyboard. He had spent so much of his life underground and surrounded by high tech equipment that he didn't know how to react to all this unbridled wilderness and wildlife. He jumped at the slightest unfamiliar sound, from the hoot of an owl to the rustle in the bushes of some kind of small rodent. He lifted his head and sniffed at the fresh, unfiltered air of the warm breeze flowing through the trees. It was actually fascinating to watch Birkoff. It was almost like watching a child discover the wonders of nature for the first time, not sure if they liked it initially.

Walter was thriving out here. He was entirely at home in the forest wilderness and seemed to know the meaning and worth of every plant and tree in their path. All of them wore green fatigues, such as the military used. Heavy boots, loose fitting pants, t-shirts, jackets with numerous pockets, snapped and zipped. All of them even had ball cap style headgear. It was thought that if they were observed by other people, they would be thought of as military or pseudo military. Walter had removed his t-shirt early and had fashioned it into a sack by tying the arms and neckline shut. Wetting the shirt down in a stream, he had been continually adding leaves, nuts, and fruits to his sack all day. His eyes had never stopped scanning the brush and he had exclaimed over each and every find. His greatest treasure of the day had been an old tin can, about the size of a large soup can. Walter had acted like he had found something of inestimable value. The others, except for Michael, had shrugged their shoulders in bewilderment. What's the big deal about a can?

That evening, Walter had show them the big deal about the can and more. Walter had surprised them all with a delicious salad of dandelion leaves, willowherb, and some watercress he had found by the stream. Attractively served on huge leaves. Sprinkled with chopped beechnuts and choke berries for dessert, the group was well satisfied by their meal. Even though Birkoff complained about the meal (and how he really missed cheeseburgers and oreos), he ate his share greedily. He had physically worked harder that day in their first hike than he had in years. Walter had then demonstrated why he needed the can. Jamming a sturdy stick into a grouping of rocks and propping it up with a forked stick at a forty-five degree angle, Walter had suspended his can over the small fire he had made. Boiling water from the nearby stream, he had dropped a few strange leaves in to steep before removing them with a twig. He wrapped the can with his handkerchief and gave it to Nikita. With the questioning look in her eyes, he murmured, "Balm leaves. Good for you. Drink it, sugar. You'll see." With a lift in his eyebrows and his kind expression, Nikita knew that it was probably something to ease her female difficulties. She was grateful at this point, not embarrassed, and she sipped the not unpleasant tasting brew until it was gone.

Walter had received his compliments for the meal. He had reminisced briefly about an old friend of his.

"John LittleBeaver." The others had looked over at him in amazement when he said the name. "Yeah, I know. He took a lot of ribbing about that name. But what that crazy Indian knew about plants and wildlife hasn't ever been written down. Man, we had some good times together. You'd be surprised at how many of these plants can be smoked and the crazy dreams you can have...." Walter had smiled off into the distance with memories.

He finally shook himself out of his reverie. "Anyway, he taught me most of what I know about living off the land. You could drop John off into the middle of anywhere in this world and he would survive. Hell, he'd even thrive." Walter had looked over at Birkoff. "John always said, the main elements required for survival are food, fire, shelter, and water."

Birkoff had asked, "Which is most important? Water?"

Walter had shook his head, "It all depends on where you are. In the desert, water would certainly head the list. In polar regions, shelter and fire will most likely be the main concerns. Ordering your priorities is one of the first steps to survival." Birkoff had gotten a worried look on his face.

Walter had laughed, "Don't worry, boy. This forest is one of the best places on earth that they could have dropped us off in. Short of downtown Las Vegas." After chuckling a bit though, his face had become thoughtful. Dinner was soon over and everybody took care to clean up their own areas and prepare for sleep. It had been a long day.

Finally, Nikita deemed the blade sharpened adequately. Michael would have stopped ten minutes prior to that. That knife was so sharp now that it could probably slice through human bone in one clean stroke. Nikita slid it home within a sheath inside a thigh pocket of her pants. The men fractionally relaxed now that the blade was hidden from their sight. They jumped when Nikita spoke.

"I'm going to sleep now." With that, she slowly made her way over to the level, rock free piece of ground that she had indicated was hers earlier. She laid down facing them and, curling her body up as if her abdomen was truly hurting her, she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. Her cramps had eased up slightly with Walter's potion and for that she was thankful. Maybe she could get to sleep. The men's expressions became concerned when they saw the small twinges of pain crossing her closed eyes. As a unit, the other three men looked over to Michael. He looked back with a blank expression, but his meaning was clear to all of them as if he had spoken aloud. What do you expect me to do with her?

Cameron motioned with his head towards Nikita. Michael still didn't move. Walter moved his arms in an encompassing manner, as if he were embracing a woman in front of him. Michael looked over at Nikita. His eyebrows raised. The men correctly interpreted his meaning. It's risky approaching a female in this mood, even if she does look like she is in pain. Actually, that makes her even more dangerous. An injured animal is more likely to attack and viciously at that. All three men gave Michael a look of confidence. We know that you are man enough for the challenge of this situation. Go for it.

With a barely audible sigh, Michael cautiously walked over to Nikita. Kneeling down, he extended a hand to her cheek. Stroking her cheekbone caused Nikita to open her eyes. The pain in them was Michael's undoing. Not caring if the other three men saw his tenderness for Nikita, he moved behind her and laid down. She didn't move a muscle, except that her eyes drifted closed. Michael slid his hand over her abdomen and curved his palm over the source of her pain. Nikita snuggled back into his warm body and the other men could see a small release of her tension and the pained expression around her eyes ease up a bit. Michael's eyes were open and he made eye contact with the men. With nods and small smiles, they indicated that Michael had nothing to fear in their estimation of him. They quietly dispersed and made their own way to the sleeping areas that they had earlier claimed as their own. Walter secured the fire for the night. Within moments, the three men had fallen asleep, the incredible tension that Nikita had created within them easing and the resulting release making them exhausted. Birkoff was the last to fall asleep after shifting uncomfortably on the hard ground and heaving heartfelt sighs, but he finally drifted off, safe in the knowledge that he was surrounded by Section's best. He had positioned himself in the center of their group for exactly that reason.

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

Up and down. Over hill, over dale. Trudge, trudge, trudge. This is asinine. Kill Madeline. It sucks being a woman. All of these thoughts and more flitted across Nikita's mind like a cadence. Actually, the physical exertion was easing the cramps somewhat, but her energy supplies were dwindling and she wondered how much longer she could keep up this insane hike. She focused on Michael's back in front of her.

The purpose of this exercise (if there was such an animal, thought Nikita sourly) was to navigate the fifty or so miles out of the forest, leaving absolutely no sign that they had passed through. That was the most difficult part. If they snared an animal (Nikita shuddered at the thought. The thought of the blood and gore made Nikita nauseous just thinking of it), they would have to obliterate all traces of their traps, their cleaning of it, their cooking of it, and the remains of their meal. It was a possibility that they could have fresh meat. Nikita wasn't the only one with a blade now. Walter had found some broken glass and while glass couldn't hold an edge worth a darn, it could be chipped anew along a line to have a razor sharp blade every time. The rocks needed to strike sparks were readily available.

But, they couldn't take the time to stop and snare an animal right now. It seemed easier just to chew on edible roots and berries. Walter knew more than any of them about what to eat and what to avoid. No one was going to go hungry with Walter along. Water was also plentiful from small streams and ponds to the patches of wet ground that indicated underground springs. And Nikita wasn't the only one to sneak something along with her. Walter had brought a healthy supply of tiny water purification tablets. They didn't need to go back home with a bacteriological infection, he reasoned. Actually, this region had some of the last potable water on the face of the earth, but it still paid to be safe, if you were in doubt about the quality of the water. This really was a beautiful forest and not really overly challenging if your purpose was to survive.

In the morning, Nikita had awakened to the beginning of her period. Seeking privacy, she had performed the necessary personal routines, but she knew that she would have to stop and do this again and again during the day, and this made her dangerously tense. The men, as a unit, seemed to draw into a huddle when she came back to camp. Her face was stormy and yet she looked close to tears. What do we do? They looked to Michael for answers. He looked at Nikita, looked at the distant skyline, and shrugged his shoulders in a way to indicate that they go on as planned. What else can we do? In silence, everybody broke camp and rearranged bushes and plants, swept the forest floor with branches, and generally erased any sign of their lingering. They knew that Section would be sending a team later on to try to discover their sleeping site and that Section had better not find it. Finally, the group met at the edge of their camp, and, with Michael in the lead and Nikita right behind, they silently started on their journey to the pick up point. Birkoff followed Nikita and Walter followed Birkoff. Cameron brought up the rear. They needed to go northeast and they all agreed with Michael's assessment of that direction as he turned and started walking.

The terrain was rough. There was no easy path, no discernable trail. Plus, they had to pay attention to keeping branches unbroken, stepping only where their steps would not leave a trace. Every time Nikita indicated a need for privacy, the men stopped in the shade and waited patiently. Birkoff didn't seem to know what Nikita needed all the privacy and time for, but he wisely, in this case, didn't question her about her reasons. Whatever she was doing took some bit of time, more than any of them needed for private business, but nobody was going to hurry her. So far, she seemed to be just abnormally quiet and introspective. Whatever she was doing was her business and they trusted her to erase all traces of her business. That, in fact, was what took Nikita so long each time. Burying the evidence, so to speak. Her spirits and energy seemed to be flowing out of her at the same rate. Michael noticed her pallor and exhaustion, but he knew they needed to keep up a certain pace to make the meeting at the chopper on time. Section expected them to make this distance in a reasonable time frame. The group had to push on and make some distance before stopping. All the men and Nikita, too, understood this. In a way, he was very proud of Nikita for persevering. What was her alternative?, but she still was making a visible effort not to take her frustrations out on the men.

The little gestures of caring had started with Walter. He had noticed some bushes off their path and had veered off. The others noted his passing but weren't worried or concerned about his absence. When he returned, he had a small handful of wild strawberries in his hand. Everybody stopped and admired his catch. With a shake of his head, he indicated that this was all there was. He offered them to Nikita. The other men nodded their heads. Good call, they seemed to be saying. She made eye contact with Walter and her vulnerable gaze and then the gratitude lighting the darkness in her eyes made him feel ten feet tall. She accepted his gift. Michael smiled slightly and indicated with a turn of his head that the group should continue their hike. Nikita looked at the berries in her hands for awhile as she walked before she started eating them. They were delicious and the gift lightened her spirits and gave her some more energy for the hike.

Cameron noticed a wet spot on the side of a hill that they were climbing. Asking Michael to stop, he dug at the wet spot with a piece of wood that was laying on the ground. Deeper and deeper he dug in the soft dirt until he uncovered a small flow of water. The water started to pool slightly in the depression he had made. Ripping a piece of his undershirt, he place it over the trickle and pushed it down into the hole. A small amount of clean water was now available for drinking. Cameron looked to Nikita and she understood that he wanted her to have the first drink. Another kindness and it fed her soul and her small smile made all the men feel invincible. She cupped her hand and tasted the water. It was delicious. It trickled down her throat and she closed her eyes in enjoyment. Ahhh, she hadn't realized she was thirsty. Her eyes opened and she stood back. The men needed water too. She wanted them to have some before she had more. One by one, they took sips of the water. It kept flowing and filling the small depression. Michael gave Cameron an approving nod. Very good. The group moved on after Cameron filled the hole and rearranged the foliage to conceal their disturbance.

One by one, the men found small ways to ease Nikita's way on their hike. Birkoff noticed a rock under a tree that would serve to give Nikita's back some support when they stopped for a brief rest in the midday. Michael overcame his usual aversion to public displays of affection and frequently turned back around to give Nikita a brief caress with his fingertips on her cheek or to take her hand and help her over a difficult piece of ground. Walter broke off a large sturdy leaf with stem for Nikita to use as a fan. Cameron offered Nikita another piece of his torn undershirt to wipe off the sweat on her forehead.

Each and every gesture and gift eased Nikita's burden and brightened her mood. That's not to say she wasn't still suffering, that her nerves weren't still wound as tight as if rubber bands were slowly being stretched and twisted around them. But, the caring of the men went a long way towards keeping her on the sane side on this hike.

Since stealth didn't seem to be a concern for them, Walter kept up Nikita's flagging spirits with conversation. He started out quizzing Nikita, to see if she remembered some of her early survival training.

"Say, sugar, do you remember the steps to take to find out if a plant is edible or not?" Nikita had sighed wearily, but in actuality had welcomed the opportunity to think of something other than her discomfort.

She thought for a moment, then, "Number one, crush a small portion. If it smells like bitter almonds or peaches, get rid of it." Birkoff looked on in interest. He had not heard this before.

"Why almonds or peaches?" Walter had kept silent waiting for Nikita to answer the question.

She had to think a second. "Prussic acid?" She looked back and Walter had nodded encouragingly. "Or also called hydrocyanic acid!" Nikita had triumphantly remembered. To Birkoff, "There are two fairly common poisons in the plant world. Prussic acid is one of them and it has the taste and smell of bitter almonds or peaches. You don't eat anything unknown that smells like them." Walter had beamed as if his favorite pupil had performed brilliantly.

"Go on with the testing procedure." Nikita nodded and went on. She stepped around a rock grouping in her path.

"If it passes the smell test, rub or squeeze some of the juice onto a tender part of your body." With a teasing glance at Birkoff, "In your case, anywhere on your body is probably tender." He gave her a chiding look and she went on, "But really, try it on the inside of your elbow or in your armpit, for example. If you have any discomfort, rash, or swelling, dump it."

"And why do you dump it, sugar?" Walter seemed to be enjoying the role of wildlife teacher.

"The second most common poison in the plant world, oxalic acid. It's a salt that occurs naturally in some plants. Um, wild rhubarb leaves, for one?" Walter had nodded. "Wood sorrel is another one, I think. It's recognizable by the sharp, dry, stinging or burning sensation when you apply it to your skin or tongue. Speaking of which, if you don't get a reaction on the skin after a few minutes, your next step in the test is to place a small portion of the plant in your mouth without chewing. Move it around to different parts of your mouth. Wait a bit and, if there is no unpleasant feeling, chew a little. Any soreness of your throat, irritation, stinging, or burning, pitch the plant out and don't ever eat anymore of it."

Walter had exclaimed, "Excellent. You remembered all of it. You had a good teacher, obviously." That was directed to Michael. Other than a slight lift of his mouth, he moved ahead as the leader of their hike without a comment.

Birkoff had asked then, "So, is the plant safe to eat then? If it passes all the tests?"

Walter had answered, "One more step. Swallow a small amount, very small, and wait for five hours. During this period, you should eat or drink nothing else. If you show no reactions, abdominal pains and the like, then you can consider the plant safe. In the absence of identification, though, you shouldn't eat too much of any unknown plant, even tested ones. And remember, you need to test the roots, stems, leaves, fruits and nuts all separately. Any one of them could be poisonous just as any one of them could be safe." Birkoff seemed to be enjoying the conversational diversion more than Nikita.

"Anything else?" Birkoff was, if nothing else, supremely interested in any information that would keep his belly full, Nikita thought fondly.

Cameron spoke up, "Well, you could avoid anything with a milky sap, unless you know positively what it is. Dandelions are safe but are one of the few that are with a milky sap."

Nikita, walking along behind Michael, pointed to a reddish leaved plant slightly in front of Michael, "Avoid red leaves and stems, generally. One notable exception, though. Remember the wild rhubarb I mentioned? Well, the leaves are poisonous, but the fruit stalks are edible, delicious even. But, you better be sure it's rhubarb. Pays to study those plant identification tapes on file. Maybe play a few less video games?"

Birkoff playfully snorted at her last comment.

Walter continued their lesson on plants and their food value, "Don't eat old or wilted leaves. Most leaves of edible plants will develop the hydrocyanic acid when they wilt, but they are safe when they are young and fresh." Birkoff had nodded, committing the information to his memory.

Nikita, trying to remember something from her lessons asked Cameron, "Cam, you remember something about the number five? I know there was something about it, but...." Cameron thought and then nodded quickly.

Snapping his fingers, "Don't eat fruit that is divided into five segments. I always thought that was a strange rule, but I guess it holds true for most of those fruits."

Walter had addressed Birkoff, "But, I'll tell you something, son. It is just best to learn a few common plants per region that are all-around safe and be able to identify them instantly. For example, in this temperate zone we're in, learn to spot dandelions, docks, nettles, and plantains. Good eating, all of them. Plus, they have additional benefits. Medicinal ones, for example."

Walter continued on with his lessons into the afternoon until they were all interrupted by an unusual discovery.

***********

Walter was having some fun with Birkoff. "Hey, kid, check out these droppings." Birkoff moved to investigate, obviously unaware of what the term ‘droppings' meant.

"Weird looking pellets.... Hey, wait a minute, are they what I think they are?" Walter started laughing. "God, Walter, you called me over here to look at animal poop?"

"Deer poop, technically. See the tracks nearby? Hey, Michael, we must be near water. I think we all could use a drink." To Birkoff, "Deer never get too far from water."

It was now mid-afternoon and Nikita detected an unfamiliar sound. Michael had already stopped his progress in front of her and his head was tilted slightly as he tried to identify the faint crying. It was an animal. No doubt about that. But, it was an animal in distress. Not pain, so much, as an animal trapped, attempting to alert someone else of its plight. Michael didn't perceive a threat to the group so he indicated that he was moving on. As he tried to make eye contact with Nikita, he realized it was a futile gesture. She was already moving towards the source of the sounds. Her face was concerned and she was ready to render aid if needed. Michael's mouth tightened and expressed his displeasure more than if anybody else had pitched a major fit complete with curses and shouting.

"Nikita."

The way he said her name should have been enough to stop her and turned her around to fall back in line. She didn't even pause in her cautious exploration of the brush. Her surprised "oh!" had the rest of the men coming up behind her to see what she had discovered. Michael was forced to join the group to restore some semblance of discipline. This was keeping them from putting the miles on that they needed, to keep on some kind of schedule and be there when their transport arrived. What had she found?

It was a dog. A dachshund, if Michael knew his breeds correctly. In a hole. The bulky, slightly overweight dog had fallen into a steeply sided depression some six to seven feet deep and the loose dirt and claw marks attested to its attempts to claw its way out of the hole. It was obviously somebody's pet that had wandered away from its family. A bright pink collar was around its neck with a few jingling tags hanging from it. The top one was a heart shaped rabies tag; current one, Michael's sharp gaze noticed the year stamped in large letters on its face. . The dog's large, liquid brown eyes implored them for help. The skinny whip-like tail was moving a mile a minute in gladness to see humans who would be able to help her out of the hole. A harder heart than Michael's would have had a difficult time refusing her pleas. Nikita's extremely soft heart had no trouble making the rescue attempt. Before Michael could say, "Nikita, no," she had sat down on the ground next to the hole and was scooting her body over the edge. Walter, with a quiet, "Well, I'll be damned..." understood her purpose and waited to receive the little dog when she recovered it.

"Come here, little one. Come on. No, don't just lick my fingers." The others heard her muffled words as she tried to entice the little dog to come close enough to be grabbed. She crooned to the puppy and it came up to her hands. Nikita grabbed her.

"I got her! Walter, take her from me." Nikita handed the dog up to Walter. Cameron grabbed Nikita's outstretched hands and effortlessly pulled her in one motion out of the hole. "Thanks Cam."

Nikita took the dog from Walter's arms. The chestnut brown dachshund licked Nikita's face on every inch she could reach.

"Stop... stop. Glad to see us, little sweetie?" These words were uttered between laughs and breathless giggles. The men all stood and stared at this strange sight. Michael's face was thoughtful as he considered his options. His face grew solemn as he decided his next action. He had already thought a few steps ahead and knew what he was going to do.

"Nikita." She stopped petting the dog and laughing. The dog stilled as if sensing the tension in the dark man standing near the woman who held him. Nikita read Michael's face and correctly interpreted his dilemma. Nikita backed up with the small brown dog held securely in her arms.

"No, Michael. I can't leave her. She'd die out here alone. I'll carry her. She won't be a bother. Don't make me do this." Nikita clutched the dog more tightly in her arms. The small dog gave her a lick on her chin. Not surprisingly, the other men lined up behind Nikita. They stared Michael down and gave Nikita their support. Cameron spoke for all of them.

"We'll take turns helping Nikita with the dog. We'll make good time still." Birkoff reached out his hand and scratched behind the dog's ears. The small dog quivered in delight and nuzzled his hand. Birkoff's face grew tender. Walter smoothed his hand over the sleek hair of the dachshund's back. It was a silly looking dog, but a dog nonetheless. Her big brown eyes and floppy ears were kind of cute. Walter turned to face Michael with a plea in his eyes. Cameron waited for Michael to cave in. He didn't stand a chance with those three looking at him like that.

Michael held his stoic expression a few seconds longer before addressing the group. His face held a resigned expression. He spoke quietly, "I already knew that Nikita wouldn't leave the dog. If you all agree, we'll carry it out. We know that she can't walk most of this terrain fast enough for the pace we need to keep." Everybody relaxed at his words, but Michael wasn't done.

"But, the moment this... dog," Michael uttered this word as if he were still questioning if the animal really was some kind of real dog, "slows us down, she is being left behind. Do we all understand each other?" Everybody gave Michael a quick nod.

"Fine. Now let's move on. We have lost too much time." Their original line formed and the group quickly started walking on, this time with Nikita holding a grateful little dachshund in her arms, as if she held a baby. The dog laid her head down on Nikita's shoulder, gave her face a tired lick, heaved a big sigh, and proceeded to fall deeply asleep. Michael looked back, saw this ridiculous scene, and rolled his eyes slightly as he faced forward and picked up his pace. Walter smirked at this new development as Birkoff asked Nikita, "Can I carry her next?"

*****

That night, sitting in a circle around the small fire that Cameron had built, Birkoff, with the small dog in his lap, started examining the tags attached to her collar. "A city dog license. Current. What's this?" Everybody looked up and gave him their attention. "A name tag. Her name is Tashie. Here's a phone number. Looks like you're going to go home, Tashie. No sweat." Nikita smiled as Tashie jumped off Birkoff's lap and made her way over to Nikita. Placing her front paws on Nikita's knees, she looked into Nikita's face with her big brown eyes as if to ask permission to jump up into Nikita's lap.

"Okay Tashie. Come on up." Before the words were finished, the dachshund was in Nikita's arms and settling herself into a comfortable position on Nikita's legs. The dog turned around to face Michael, who was sitting next to Nikita on the broken tree trunk. Draping her head over Nikita's arm, the dog took to staring at Michael. She had made the rounds of being carried on that day's hike, except for Michael, and had formed a friendship with all the others, except for him. Something about Michael still puzzled the dog. She wasn't fearful or aggressive with him. Just cautious. Whenever she had sat in someone's lap tonight, she had fastened her soulful eyes on Michael. In a less self-assured individual, all this staring would have un-nerved them. Michael didn't pay it any mind. At least, that's what everybody else but Nikita thought. She would have felt that too except for the odd fleeting looks she had seen on Michael's face. She knew his minute expressions so well that she saw things that no one else could. With her uncanny understanding, she knew that he would have liked to touch Tashie, to stroke her soft hair, to take her uncomplicated adoration as his own. Dogs were so special in this. They gave love so freely without expectation. They comforted with their warmth and their gratitude.

Nikita wished that Michael would reach out and touch Tashie, but she knew that he wouldn't. For lots of reasons, the primary one being his air of aloofness and his posture of command. He wouldn't want to appear weak or tender in front of any group, even this one, consisting of people who had known and respected him for years. But, deeper than this reason, was another, one that made Nikita's heart contract painfully when she considered it.

For so many years, Michael had kept himself locked up tight, devoid of his softer emotions, instead focusing on his ruthlessness and superior intellect to achieve his objectives. He was simply out of practice and unsure of how to reach out, how to make the gestures to express the new tender feelings welling up inside. He was a consummate actor when it came to playing a role for a mission. If he had to seduce a woman with love words or gentle her with kindness, he could perform flawlessly. But when it became real and personal, he acted unsure and almost fearsome and he retreated back to his perfected blank stare and stoic demeanor. Nikita ached for the hard lessons he must have endured to achieve this kind of control.

Dinner had been a repeat of last night's with the addition of some steamed fish. Walter, bless him, had used a pointed stick to spear fresh trout from the stream that they had stopped by. Will this man's wilderness know-how never cease? He had gutted the fish, sprinkled them with some fresh herbs he had discovered in the plants by the water's edge, wrapped the fish in large wet leaves and placed the bundles on a flat rock setting in the fire pit. The fish, eaten carefully with their fingertips, was incredibly delicious. Tashie gobbled up the bits of fish that everybody, but Michael, fed her from their portion.

Nikita and Cameron had efficiently cleaned up the cooking debris and had buried the remains of their meal some distance from their campsite. Cameron had left Nikita alone when she had requested privacy. He knew she was within yelling distance if she needed anyone of them. She gave herself a quick sponge bath with her piece of Cam's torn undershirt as she stood by the stream. Yawning widely, Nikita headed back to camp.

Birkoff had doused the fire in the pit with water carried in the can from the stream.. In the morning, he would bury the ashes with the dirt nearby and they would rearrange some brush and pine needles over the spot to obscure it. Walter carried Tashie farther away from their campsite and allowed her to do her business. When he returned with the dog, he set her down and watched her walk over to Nikita, where she had already stretched out to fall asleep. Her eyes were closing sleepily. It was still early, dusk was falling, but all of them were exhausted after a full day's hike.

"Feeling okay, sugar?" Nikita smiled warmly at Walter, her eyes at half-mast.

"Better, thanks, Walter. Your tea has helped me, I know. I'll be feeling okay in the morning." Nikita turned over onto her stomach and placed her head on her pillowed arms. "Night, Walter." Tashie, seeing something familiar in the way Nikita was laying, walked up to Nikita's lower back. Walter watched in fascination as the dog climbed up onto Nikita's back, circled around twice, laid down, curling her body up into a tight ball.

Walter asked Nikita, "Want to take her off there? She bothering you like that?"

Nikita groaned appreciatively. "I don't know why she is doing this, but it feels like a heavy heating pad on my back. Wonderful. Leave her alone, please." And with that request, Nikita and Tashie both heaved a small sigh and were asleep in a matter of seconds.

Michael returned to camp. He had been scouting out the area to insure himself that their night had reasonable expectations of being undisturbed. No animal dens or tracks were in their immediate vicinity. When you were close to water, though, you took your chances that you might be on a wildlife route to the water. Michael felt that their campsite was fairly safe and off the beaten track. Walter, seeing Michael return, moved to intercept him out of earshot of the rest of their group.

"Michael, can I talk to you a minute about something?" Michael gave Walter his most penetrating look and nodded in acquiescence.

Walter burst out with the question that had been obviously eating at him, "What's with this picnic we're on? I mean, really Michael! If you are going to be testing operatives' survival skills, this would be a cake walk here in the forest.... during early summer, no less. Food, shelter, water, ability to build a fire..." Walter ticked them off with his fingers, "this area is lousy with all of these! What was Madeline thinking? Was she thinking?" Michael waited until Walter had run down and was ready for an answer. Michael had been pondering this very question and had come up with what he thought was the answer.

"I believe she intended this as a vacation of sorts." Walter's mouth dropped open and he looked dumbfounded.

"Are you joking?" Michael didn't answer. He didn't joke. Why would he start now?

Walter thought this statement over a while and his face reflected his consideration of what appeared to be a ridiculous statement. But, was it?

Michael continued, when he thought Walter had come up to speed, "Additionally, the parameters of this training mission were few. We didn't have to split up. The distance covered could have been tripled or quadrupled and we could have been required to complete it in less time than we were given. We aren't being followed and we aren't being engaged in combative exercises." Walter nodded. Some of the prior training missions were non- stop exercises in gun play or hand to hand combat, while also battling hostile elements. You could be awakened from sleep with bullets zinging around you or someone trying to kick you in the head. Those missions could get pretty bizarre.

Walter shook his head, as if to clear it, "But.... a vacation?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders, "Or consider it a bonding experience for this group. I really don't know what Madeline intended. I suggest we don't examine her reasons too closely and just enjoy the experience. It's not an ideal vacation trip, but it is a break from Section." Michael didn't say anymore. Walter just nodded thoughtfully and the two men turned and headed towards the campsite and the rest of their group.

With a quiet, "Night, Michael," Walter made his way over to his patch of ground and laid down, moving into his sleeping position on his back with one arm under his head. He stared at the stars for a few moments, deep in thought and then closed his eyes wearily and was asleep before he had taken three breaths. That was the mark of an experienced Section member. You cultivated the ability to sleep on command. You never knew when you would get the opportunity to rest. It paid to grab all the sleep periods you could when they presented themselves. Cameron was also asleep, his head near Walter's, their bodies forming a straight line, twenty or so feet away from Nikita. Michael watched in amusement as Birkoff approached the two men and placed himself on the ground between Walter, Cameron, and Nikita. Birkoff produced his increasingly familiar sigh and closed his eyes. He hadn't noticed Michael standing in the shadows as he secured his position.

After waiting for Birkoff to fall asleep for five minutes, Michael moved quietly to Nikita's side. It was dark, a cloudy night which would insure plenty of warmth until morning, but Michael's night vision was excellent. He stood over Nikita's body and saw the dog sleeping on her back.

Nikita was sleeping very deeply, her breaths even and, sounding to Michael, more untroubled and comfortable than the prior night. That dog might be doing her some good on her back. But, the dog was occupying some of Michael's space. He had been looking forward all day to cradling Nikita in his arms.

With a resigned look at the dog, Michael still laid down next to Nikita. Tashie lifted her head and stared sleepily at Michael. He stared back.

Finally, with a quiet, "Lay down," to the dog, Michael positioned himself on his side, snuggled up to the side of Nikita's body as she laid on her stomach. He placed his arm over her upper back, ignoring the dog on the small of Nikita's back. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Nikita's body pressed up to the front of his and under his arm. As he breathed deeply, initiating a calmness for sleep, his last impression as he drifted off was the small head of the dog as it laid its head on his arm and heaved a sigh. All three of them slept the night away in peace.

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

"How could you do this to her, Cameron?" Nikita demanded furiously of a obviously repentant Cameron. She held a shivering wet dachshund wrapped in her jacket as she glared into Cameron's face. He stood there sheepishly, his own almost nude body dripping wet, only covered by a pair of white regulation boxers.

He pleaded his case to one of the protectors of this little dog, "With God as my witness, Nikita, I thought that all dogs could swim. Who could have guessed that Weiner dogs were the exception? Or that this pitiful one couldn't?"

Nikita wasn't done, "She could have drowned when you decided to pull that stunt and try to see if she could float." They were standing next to a small five foot deep pool which the stream had carved out before continuing on. Cameron had decided to take an early morning dip while the others had spent a more leisurely hour nibbling on breakfast and taking their time cleaning up the campsite. Birkoff's stomach was upset, didn't recognize the healthy fiber-rich foods, Walter said, so he brewed him some wild peppermint tea. Nikita had woken up feeling refreshed and better than she had in days. Everybody's mood was more relaxed and jovial, as a result. Until Nikita had heard Cameron's voice as he urged the small dog into his arms to go in the water with him. She was wondering herself if the heavy little dog could manage to swim when she heard Cameron's curses as he dove for her body.

"She wasn't in any danger, Nikita. Honestly, she wasn't under that long before I figured out that she wasn't coming up." Cameron knew that Nikita was about out of steam. She forgave quickly if there was no malicious intent involved. She was a kind hearted soul. They all knew this. So did the dog. It was sucking up all the attention and faking her reaction, Cameron thought privately. "I swear, I'll never hurt a hair on her body again. Okay?"

Nikita smiled ruefully. "I guess so. Poor little baby. Were you scared? You sank like a rock, didn't you?" Nikita crooned to the dog as she carried it over her shoulder like a baby back to the others. The dog, peering out from the folds of Nikita's jacket, looked at Cameron over her shoulder. He could swear it was smiling at him. Nah, couldn't be. That dog had a brain the size of a grape, if that. Still...

Michael called to Cameron, "Get dressed. We need to cover some distance today. Even if we don't have to rush, I'd like to cover as many miles as we can. You never know when the unexpected will delay you." Cameron nodded his understanding and put on his clothes.

Later that afternoon.....

Nikita whistled and called to the dog, "Tashie, come here girl. Tashie?" To Birkoff, "Did you have to set her down?"

"Hey, she had to take a whiz. Then, she just took off." Birkoff was as worried as Nikita and had been whistling and calling out to Tashie himself.

Giving an exasperated look over to Michael, who returned a small portion of it back, Nikita moved in the direction that she had last seen the dog. As she walked away, she heard Walter mumbling something about making some kind of leash out of vines.

Continuing her calls and whistles, she finally heard the dog's familiar bark. Hmm, maybe she found a chipmunk or something. Hope it isn't anything bigger than that, Nikita thought, and she picked up her pace towards the barks, just in case.

She arrived in the large clearing just in time to see Tashie barking furiously at a tiny rabbit that she had cornered against a small grouping of rocks. The rabbit was frantically turning its head, considering its best course of retreat while the maniacally yelping dog, with the hairs standing fully bristled up on her back, danced back and forth in front of it. Before Nikita could yell at Tashie to come to her, the rabbit made its break for freedom. And Tashie, a split second after she comprehended that the rabbit was on the move again, hurled her small body in the direction that the rabbit had bolted.

"Tashie, stop. Stop, damn it." Nikita yelled at Tashie, but the dog was in a frenzy to get at the rabbit. "Oh, nuts," Nikita muttered as she took off after the pair.

The men, alerted by all the commotion, came upon this scene. The brush was low enough for them to see Nikita, charging after, what they all assumed to be, the dachshund chasing something else. The dog was hidden in the grasses, but they could see her course as the plants and grasses gave way to her body. Michael stopped still and scanned the area. Something didn't look right. What was it? Besides the ridiculousness of the situation, of course.

It suddenly occurred to him. Trees. He could see the tops of the trees over on the edge of this clearing. But the tree tops were close to level with the ground. That meant.... Oh no, that meant that there was a cliff at the edge of this area.

Michael yelled out to Nikita as she neared what he thought was the edge, "Nikita, there's a cliff over there. Stop where you are!" He used his most commanding tone. He was sure she had heard him because her eyes met his for a second and her face registered additional alarm. She didn't stop though. Her calls to the dog became more urgent and beseeching. And the dog's path was heading straight for the edge. Covered up by the tall grasses, she wouldn't see the edge until she was more than likely running off of it. Michael, Cameron, Birkoff, and Walter were nowhere near enough to effect an intercept course. They could only watch in horror for a moment before they ran forward.

There was time, Michael thought. Nikita could stop. That fool dog wasn't worth risking her life for. If it was going to charge off the edge of the cliff, so be it. As he ran forward, he watched the scene in front of him progress in slow motion.

Nikita didn't stop. Michael felt his heart lurch in his chest. Stop, damn it, stop! His mind screamed these words to Nikita.

The dog burst out of the foliage a few feet from the edge. They all heard it's barking cease abruptly. Michael could picture the scene in his mind as the bulky dog tried to stop, but her momentum carried her towards the edge. These were not dogs who could stop on a dime. Their little legs were hardly powerful enough to carry their weight around normally, let alone stop their chunky bodies quickly.

The slow motion continued. Nikita was right behind the dog now. She had the advantage of seeing the peril earlier than the dog and she had more muscles and agility than the fool animal. Just as the dog was half way over the edge of the cliff, Nikita reached down, and with one arm, scooped the little dog up and tucked her against her side.

But, Nikita was standing on the edge of the cliff, and she still had a bit of her own momentum to deal with. Trying to stop herself, teetering on the edge for countless seconds, the men arrived just in time to watch Nikita lose her balance, and still holding onto the dog under one arm, plummet over the side and out of sight.

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

The men stood in frozen silence, staring at the place where Nikita had been. They were all afraid to look over the edge and see her broken body far below. From the perspective they had, they could see that the bottom of the valley was at least seventy-five feet down below. But, she still could be alive. As one, they rushed to the edge and looked over, searching for Nikita's distinctive bright hair.

Where was she? Walter, looking at the others and shrugging his shoulders, yelled out urgently, "Nikita! Are you there? Nikita! Answer me!" They waited and finally they heard a sound that started their hearts beating normally again and breaths to fill their lungs.

"Uh, guys? Could you give me a hand here?" It was Nikita's voice below them. Not too far below from the sound of it. Michael laid down on the loose edge and inched his way forward until his body was partway over the edge and he could look down. There was his Nikita, about five feet below him, one arm still holding onto that idiot dog and the other one over her head holding onto some decidedly weak looking roots. Her face on the side on the cliff was scratched and bleeding, but she still managed a weak smile for Michael.

"Uh, hi, Michael. Can you help us out of this small situation?" Nikita looked up into Michael's eyes. Her eyes widened suddenly and her smile disappeared as she slipped down a few inches. The roots she was holding onto were beginning to lose their grip with the hillside. Michael issued his orders to the other men.

"Walter, Cameron, hold my legs and lower me down to Nikita's position." The men obeyed instantly and Michael felt their strong grip on his legs as he inched his body over the edge. Dirt showered down on Nikita and she averted her face to avoid getting it in her eyes. Michael slowly moved over the edge until his entire body was hanging suspended upside down next to Nikita. His long hair flowed down over the top of his head and Nikita had an insane impulse to giggle at the sight.

Looking over at her, "Grab onto me and we'll both get pulled up. Drop the dog and use both hands." Michael expected her to drop the dog and reach for him? Nikita looked at him in amazement. Did he actually think she would do that?

"Take Tashie up first." Michael's eyes widened in amazement, then narrowed in anger.

"You endangered your life chasing this animal. Now, you do it again?" He was getting seriously steamed, Nikita noticed, but she was standing firm on this. Hopefully, time enough later for the lecture of the century.

"I mean it, Michael. I'm not dropping her." Michael didn't waste any more time. Time was what they didn't have much more of. Even if the roots held, Michael could see the fine trembling in her arms. Her strength was waning as reaction set in. If he tried to hold both of them, it would be more difficult with her holding the dog.

"Give it to me." Michael reached for the dog under Nikita's arm. Plucking it out of her grip, the dog struggled slightly, leaving the security of his favorite person. When it looked up and saw Michael's face, it stilled.

Michael called up to Walter and Cameron, "Pull me up." And then to the dog, "Give me a reason to drop you, dog." The dog didn't and in a few moments found itself back on solid ground again, in Birkoff's arms. Tashie whined and tried to hide her head under Birkoff's arm inside his jacket. The menacing vibes from Michael were terrifying her.

"Lower me back down." Michael ordered tersely. He went over the edge as quickly as possible and was lowered back to Nikita's position, noticeably a few inches below her previous position on the cliff. No time to spare, she locked first one, then both of her hands over Michael's forearms as he locked his over hers. As she released her hold on the roots, both of them could see that she had literally been hanging on by threads. Michael's eyes closed briefly with relief. He had her locked in his grasp. There was no way she would fall now. He simply wouldn't allow it.

"I've got her. Bring us back up." Walter and Cameron struggled to pull both Michael and Nikita up and were finally successful. Laying on the ground at the other three men's feet, their arms still locked together, both of them closed their eyes and contemplated how close they had come to possibly losing each other. Opening their eyes, simultaneously, locking their gazes, they reaffirmed their love for each other. Then, Nikita watched the anger move into Michael's eyes. Uh oh, she silently thought. I'm in for it now.

****

Dinner time was a quiet affair that night. Everybody somehow sensed Michael's dangerous mood and kept quiet. All the members of the group performed their assigned tasks flawlessly to avoid any backlash from Michael's temper, although they all knew that he wasn't the type to crucify anybody but the object of his anger. And they all knew who was the focus of his anger.

She knew, too. Nikita had no trouble reading Michael's expression this evening. He glared at her constantly. His mouth tightened as if he was considering her actions again and again. His shoulders were rigid with tension. Nikita honestly couldn't understand the source of his anger. What was the big deal?

She had saved the little dog from plunging over the side of a cliff. It had been a calculated risk, to be sure, but he had not been there when she had made the instant decision to reach for the dog, knowing that she was certainly going to lose her balance in the process. But, she had seen the edge and the roots dangling from the cliff. In that exact moment of deciding if there was a chance to save both of them, she had used her training and keen eye to ascertain that yes, there was a small chance that she could make the maneuvers necessary to grab the dog and then grab the roots. Granted, it was a gamble. The roots could have torn from the ground. She could have missed the dog in her quick grab. The ground could have been slippery, making her turn less precise... the dog could have struggled, throwing Nikita's concentration off. But, none of these things happened. What was Michael's big problem?

Michael saw Nikita's quizzical glance. She can't understand what my problem is with her saving that mutt, he grimly thought to himself. If he was totally honest with himself (and he prided himself on that. He made a point of never lying to himself), he personally couldn't understand why he was blowing this scene all out of proportion. Michael sat down on a rock by the fire and stared into the flames.

Nikita risked her life almost every day. Michael had to accept that just as she had to accept the same for him. Neither of them could return from any mission. The thought of that tore at his heart, but he had understood the price they paid for being who they were. In Michael's eyes, their work was vitally important. He saw the big picture, even if Nikita didn't. For Michael truly believed that the ends justified the means. Innocent people lived. Children lived. And they worked hard, loved, cared, made the world a better place in their own way, because Michael did the nasty stuff that ensured their safety. Simple as that. As complicated as that.

But this dog, this animal, was enough for Nikita to risk her life for. And that realization made Michael extremely angry. How dare she? How could she risk her precious life for a dog? He loved her, dammit! Didn't she care what would happen to him if she died? Michael heard his thoughts and grimaced at the irony. She could risk her life for humanity. He allowed that. Hell, he encouraged it. But, she had carelessly, in Michael's eyes, put her valuable life in peril. He couldn't understand this. Irrationally maybe, he seethed with his anger. He could have lost her, lost her!, and all for a dog's life.

Earlier, Walter had made another one of his potions for Nikita's scratches. "Figwort. Dab it on the scratches on your face." Nikita had smiled her thanks as the liquid reduced the pain and swelling and had also acted as an antiseptic.

Now, Walter quietly sat down next to Nikita as she stared across the fire at Michael. It was getting worse for him. She saw it. Everybody there saw it and wondered what could be done.

"Sugar?" Walter spoke in a murmur for Nikita's ears alone. She turned her head and looked into Walter's kind eyes. Her eyebrows arched in a questioning way.

"I would suggest that you and Michael find someplace private and have this thing out before he blows a blood vessel in his brain. I have never seen him so angry. Other people would be screaming and cursing right now. But not our Michael. He is sitting there driving himself into a frenzy and all in his own mind. Go. Talk this out with him." Nikita nodded, smiled a gentle thanks over at Walter and at Birkoff and Cameron who knew exactly what Walter was suggesting. She rose and went around the fire to Michael.

"Walk with me?" Michael looked up into her face and said nothing. Nikita continued, "We need to talk." At this, Michael nodded and rose. Nikita walked out of the circle of firelight with Michael gliding silently after her.

"Good luck, sugar," Walter whispered. He looked down at the dog that had precipitated all the emotions. "Come on, Tashie. You're bedding down with me tonight. And if I were you, I wouldn't move an inch from my side. Michael doesn't need much more excuse to terminate your little butt." Tashie cocked her head quizzically to one side and wagged her tail, but obediently trotted after Walter to his spot on the ground.

***********

The sky was clear and the moon was near full. There was plenty of illumination for their keen eyes as Michael and Nikita walked away from camp. Nikita walked towards the rushing water of the stream. She had always loved the sound of moving water. It calmed her. Maybe it would help calm Michael, too.

At the edge of the water, as she stood on the rounded rocks of the bank, Nikita turned and looked up into Michael's face. He had stopped just in front of her. Irreverently, she noticed how handsome he looked. His hair was waving wildly around his face and looked so soft to touch. His lips were tightly pressed together, which made Nikita remember how much she loved when they softened and touched her face and lips so gently. His beautiful eyes, almost silver in this light, glowed and focused intently on Nikita's face, making her remember how he looked at her in the moments when he was loving her. So focused, so intent on her pleasure.

Michael saw her look soften as she looked over his face. Part of him responded. His emotions were running high. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge into passion, but first, he needed some closure on this issue of the needless risking of her life. He needed reassurance from her that she wouldn't do this again. He had to make her see. If he had to lose her in death, it couldn't be over something so trivial as a dog.

Nikita spoke first. "Let's have it. You're upset with me because I saved Tashie. Why? I would do it again if the same situation presented itself." Michael's eyes widened at this. Then narrowed. She wasn't serious, was she? Time to set her straight on this matter, he savagely thought.

Michael spoke in an intense, low toned way, that conveyed his utter seriousness, each word distinctly spoken and emphasized, "Listen to me and listen well. You will never again risk your life in such a frivolous way. Do you understand me?" Nikita's eyes had also widened with his tone and with his words. Her emotions jumped to keep pace with his. Her style of speech and tone matched his.

"Now you can listen to me. You may be my mentor, the man who trained me. You may be the leader on missions when we go out together. You are my lover and my love. But, you do not own me. Section does not own me. I still have some free will and I chose to save that dog. So, get over it!" Nikita relished throwing those words at Michael. But, she knew she had just fanned the flames higher, so she wasn't surprised when he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. His next words were delivered like bullets. Nikita had never seen him react so strongly, even in lovemaking. Part of her was incredulous at what she was seeing.

Michael stopped shaking her, pushed his face closer to hers and practically hissed, "I love you, damn it! Don't you understand that?" Torment and suffering was in his voice as he repeated the words, as if they explained everything. "I love you!"

And perhaps they did explain everything. Nikita's eyes went round and the wind left her sails. She stared in amazement at Michael. This was Michael at his purest, the essence of the man. It was a moment sublime. His famed control was gone. His eyes seem to crackle with electricity, the wind blew his hair in disarray around his face. As she saw into his soul, he seemed to be staring into hers.

At that moment the only thought circling around in Nikita's mind was ‘he really loves me.' Until this moment, she realized, she had her doubts about that. He was so controlled, usually so calm. And at the same time, he was a consummate actor for Section. Maybe she had always wondered if he were putting on an act for her or not as totally involved as she was. But, if Nikita ever believed anything, she believed him now. He really loved her. Wow.

Long moments passed. Michael grew calmer, but no less intense. His eyes searched her face, trying to see into her mind and discover her thoughts. Nikita finally spoke in a hushed whisper.

"You were afraid of losing me. I've been so close to death... so many times." Nikita tried to sort out her thoughts. Michael kept silent, straining to hear what he wanted to hear. That she would be there for him until the time that death actually separated them. And when her death came, it would not be a senseless death. She had to be more careful, more conscious of what she meant to him and to her friends.

Nikita seemed to be gathering her thoughts. Michael waited. And when her next words came, they stunned him.

"I have to live life in my own way. Until the second I die. If I change who I am, how I love and care, I'll start dying a slow death right now." Nikita's eyes filled with tears. Michael's anger melted and he listened, really listened to her words.

"I know you think I jeopardized my life to save the dog. I took a calculated risk, believe it or not. I'd like you to/ believe that I wouldn't have stupidly sacrificed myself for her." Nikita took a deep breath and continued, "But, this is me, Michael. Who I am. I care for children, innocents, even helpless animals. I cry at sad movies. I cry during happy ones. I love my friends and worry about them constantly. I even love you too, even though I think you still don't believe you're worthy of love." Michael's eyes closed briefly. Nikita had scored a small hit with that one.

"But, for your peace of mind, I'll promise you this: I'll be careful when it's possible. You promise me the same." The corners of Michael's mouth turned up slightly. His eyes relaxed. Nikita knew his crisis had passed. Whatever else Michael was, he was a thoughtful man who knew how to listen with his heart. He had heard her. He understood what she was saying.

Michael's hands left her shoulders and moved to her face in one of his favorite gestures; he cupped her face between his hands and his thumbs caressed her cheekbones, as if memorizing the feel of her soft skin.

In a hushed voice, "I promise." And his head fell forward, his eyes closed, and their foreheads touched. Nikita's hands moved up to Michael's chest. They held this pose for long moments, savoring the moment and the emotions that had led up to it.

When he lifted his head, Michael told Nikita, "But, if that dog puts your life in danger again, she will answer to me." Nikita giggled at his words.

"Ooh, brave words. Think you can take her, big guy? I don't know. She may be short, pudgy, and ridiculous looking, but maybe she has some secret skill. Hey, I know! Section can recruit her. She can be taught to trip up the bad guys. She's so short, she can sneak into warehouses and chew up their computer equipment. Think of what she could accomplish if we could teach her to pee on command." Michael took her hand and started walking. Nikita laughed all the way back to camp imagining the possibilities of Tashie, Section One operative.

Close to camp, they grew quiet, so as not to disturb the others, possibly sleeping around the fire. Michael doubted that they were actually asleep. He was right. When they walked into the perimeter of the firelight, the other men noted Nikita's smile and the possessive way that Michael was holding her hand. It was okay between the two of them. They all smiled and nodded and then went to sleep. Nikita saw Tashie inside Walter's jacket, on top of his chest. She seemed content to stay where she was.

Good. While she and Michael would have liked to consummate their emotional catharsis with lovemaking, they would have to be content with hugs and lying together on the ground. It would be enough. What mattered was savoring each other's closeness. Together they laid down, Nikita's back to Michael's front in a spoon fashion, his hand around her body on her waist, her hand lying on top of his, their fingers intertwined. Michael nuzzled his face into Nikita's hair and together they drifted off to sleep. Before she fell asleep completely, Nikita carried Michael's hand to her mouth and softly kissed his fingers, then returned his hand to its original position. Michael leaned forward and gently kissed her ear and whispered, "Bon nuit, ma chere." Nikita whispered back, almost asleep, "I love it when you talk French."

**********

During a breakfast of berries and nuts the next morning, everybody's mood was lighter. Nikita was back to normal, it seemed, and Michael was enjoying the sight of her as she laughed and joked with the others. He left momentarily to walk into the woods.

Tashie noticed his passing and wandered up to Nikita's legs and leaned against them, as she sat cross legged on the ground. Nikita scratched behind the dog's ears and stroked her smooth head. Tashie's big eyes seemed to indicate her pleasure and she settled herself in for a good petting session.

Walter laughed at the dog, "Looks like she's in heaven. Reminds me of this senorita I knew in Barcelona..." His eyes gleamed as he prepared to launch into another risque story. Michael returned in that moment and moved to Nikita's side. She felt the dog tense under her hand.

With a quiet "move" to the dog, an order that was instantly obeyed, Michael sat down next to Nikita and reached for some more of the berries sitting on the large leaves acting as plates in front of him. Cameron snapped his fingers, as if just remembering something.

"Michael's the dominant dog of our group!" Michael looked up at this absurd statement.

Quietly and in his low monotone, "What?" Everybody looked interested in what Cameron had to say next.

He complied with their unspoken request, "You see, dogs are pack animals. And pack animals establish a hierarchy of command within their pack. A pecking order, so to speak, down to the lowliest of them. An alpha male will be the leader of the group and all the others will defer to him in all matters. Well, Michael here is the dominant dog to our Tashie. Did you notice how she instantly obeys his quietest command? The rest of us have to repeat our orders or get sterner... if she even listens to us at all. Makes me think that our little Weiner dog has accepted Michael as the leader, but that the rest of us are below her."

Nikita was smiling broadly, as was Walter. Birkoff looked with interest at the dog, who was now sitting in his lap staring across at Michael. Michael looked disinterested in the whole topic and kept eating his food. Conversation ebbed and flowed amongst the rest of his group until he finally stood up and extended his hand to Nikita. He pulled her to her feet.

"We need to get going. Everybody clean up the area." Softly spoken as usual, but everybody moved quickly to obey. Tashie followed closely on Birkoff's heels as he buried the fire pit.

Midday.....

"Whew! It's muggy today." Nikita removed her cap and wiped her forehead with Cameron's t-shirt piece. She was sitting on a small outcropping of rock, only about three feet high and six to seven feet across. Most of the rocks were in the sun, but a small tree provided a little bit of shade where Nikita had chosen to rest. Walter was investigating some bushes to her left, examining the leaves, and Michael was standing to her right, studying the sky. Cameron was attending to some personal business and Birkoff was just returning with Tashie trotting along in front of him.

"I'm hungry, Walter. See anything good to eat around here?" Walter looked over and gave him an exasperated look.

"I should tell you to find something yourself, but you'd probably end up poisoning yourself." Birkoff smiled broadly at him.

"Why should I look for anything myself? I have chef Walter here." An unholy gleam entered Walter's eyes.

He addressed his comments to Michael, "You know, Michael? I found a great stash of slugs and worms here. What say we have a real feast tonight?" Birkoff's face started to pale.

Walter wasn't done. "Boiled with herbs. Ummm. Reeeaaaal delicious." Michael didn't respond, but that didn't matter to Walter. Birkoff started breathing deeply, in an attempt to control his stomach.

Walter snapped his fingers. "Darn, I wish we had time to dry them. Crispy worms make a great snack. You got to dry them real good or they can be kind of moist inside..." Birkoff ran for the bushes. Walter smiled and said to Nikita, "Shoot, I didn't even have time to start telling him about fish eyes and all the ways to eat them. I'll have to save that one for later."

Nikita playfully told Walter, "You are so bad. You know that?" Walter leered at Nikita.

"You'd be surprised at how bad I can be.... Or how good." Walter looked on the ground ten feet from Nikita, "Dang, what's wrong with that dog?" Nikita looked down at Tashie.

She was slowly crawling in the direction of Nikita, on her belly, her body as low as it could be. The hair was fully bristled along her back. As Walter and Nikita watched, she started growling. Not loudly or violently; more in the manner of a low warning growl. She kept creeping on forward. Michael stayed where he was, not moving, but his attention was captured by this strange sight as well.

Quietly to Nikita, "Don't move a muscle. Until we know what is wrong, stay motionless." Nikita didn't even nod her understanding. In a low tone to Walter, "Walter, from your viewpoint, can you see anything?"

Walter didn't move closer to Nikita, but his eyes scanned the area directly around her. "No, nothing that I can see. But, there could be something in the rocks, out of view."

He had to risk it. They had to know what the threat was. First though, "Dog..." Tashie obviously understood that this word applied to her. She stopped and gave Michael her attention. When he had it, "Stay." And then, "Be quiet." All words that a dog could possibly have been trained to understand. Seemed that Tashie had. Although she quivered with the effort to investigate what she had detected, she stayed in her place and her growling subsided to occasional little outbursts, as if she couldn't help herself. Michael's mouth grimaced. Have to be good enough.

To Nikita, "Look around slowly and carefully. Do you see any danger?" Nikita followed his orders and when she had looked to her left and then to her right, her gaze froze on one spot amongst the rocks.

She whispered, "Rattlesnake. Big one. I can't see all of it."

Walter cursed low and under his breath. Michael looked around and thought of his options.

Then, "Move slightly, as if to rise." Nikita leaned forward as if to rise. Then they all heard it. The rattle. Nikita froze in her position. She wasn't going anywhere until they figured out what to do.

Michael, ever the master strategist, "Walter, back away. Then find a strong, forked branch." With a glance at Walter, "Do you understand what I want it for?" Walter was already moving and looking into the bushes and foliage directly behind himself.

"Already one step ahead of you, Michael. Hang on, this one will do." Walter had found a small, recently deceased tree. He examined the tree, chose a branch approximately two inches in diameter. With all the adrenalin rushing through his body, he easily snapped the branch off the tree. Cursing luridly about wishing he had Nikita's knife instead of his piece of glass, he worked on one end of the branch, peeling and cutting away wood until he had fashioned the forked branch that he knew Michael wanted. Realizing that he had no time to work with it longer, he came back to the area where Nikita was still sitting frozen, staring at the spot where the snake was.

She whispered, "I think it's head is pointing in the same direction that I am sitting."

Michael murmured, "Okay, stay silent now." He looked over at Walter. "Ready?" Walter nodded. "Then, move closer."

They both moved cautiously in closer to Nikita's position. Twice, Michael quietly had to tell Tashie to stay in her place. She had crept forward during their hunt for supplies and was about five feet from Nikita's feet. When Walter and Michael had drawn even with the dog, they both stopped. ‘Now what?', Walter's look said to Michael.

Michael looked at the chunky dachshund quivering with suppressed excitement on the ground. "Dog." She looked up at him. "Speak." Tashie understood this command, too. She was also grateful for the permission to finally verbalize her pent up emotions. She barked. Repeatedly, coming to her short little feet to punctuate her deep throated barks. Thankfully, this close to Michael and waiting for his every move and order, she didn't budge from her location.

The snake, disturbed by the sudden racket, began shaking it's rattles. With Nikita sitting so still and above it, if it started to glide out from the rocks, right next to her feet. Walter and Michael watched as the snake's head cleared the rocks. Walter was worried that the snake would strike at the dog. She was still barking wildly and her movement was attracting the snake.

"Now, Michael?," he urgently whispered. Michael didn't answer for a few more seconds, to make sure the snake's head was well clear of the rocks.

"Now, Walter!" And with that command, Walter swiftly and accurately jammed the forked end of the stick over rattlesnake's head, just behind it's jaws. Putting his weight on the stick, he pinned the snake to the ground. It's body, leaving the rocks, started flailing wildly. Nikita had started moving the second she saw that the snake was truly imprisoned under the stick. She pulled her knife from its sheath and gave it to Michael. In one clean cut, he severed the snake's head from its body. As a group, all three of them let out a collective breath. The danger was past.

Dropping the knife on the ground, Michael stood and opened his arms to Nikita. She launched herself into them. She wasn't hysterical or crying, but at that moment needed to feel his arms around her. They clung together, Michael's head buried in Nikita's hair, murmuring loving assurances to her. Walter knelt and examined the carcass of the snake. Tashie ceased her barking and came to sniff at the corpse. Walter scratched her favorite spot behind her ears and told her what a good dog she had been. Birkoff came back into their vicinity in time to see this scene.

Looking over at Michael and Nikita, he told them, "Geez, can't you two do that stuff in private?" To Walter, "I need to talk to you, old man." An evil gleam entered Walter's eyes, Nikita noticed. Picking up the body, sans head, of the snake and the bloody knife, he stood and turned with both of them in his hands.

"Sure, we can talk, but first I need to gut our dinner. Look what Nikita found!" Birkoff took one look at the blood dripping from the huge snake body and bolted back for the bushes. He passed by Cameron, who was finally returning from his walk. He took in the whole scene in one glance and looked at the direction that Birkoff had taken. Retching sounds could be clearly heard.

"What did I miss?"

*****

"I tell you, Michael, she saved my life." Nikita had been trying, unsuccessfully to convince Michael that Tashie had played some role in her dramatic and narrow escape from death by rattlesnake venom. Okay, so she was exaggerating a little bit. Maybe a lot, but Tashie had alerted them all to the presence of the snake originally. If Nikita had gone ahead and stood or if she had moved her position on the rocks, she could have been bitten before she even knew the snake was there.

Michael didn't buy it. "Walter saved your life. The dog only made the situation more difficult."

"She also barked and drew the snake from the rocks." Nikita used a dramatic tone to try to make it sound more plausible.

"We could have drawn the snake from the rocks without her." Michael pulled another piece of snake from the spit over the fire and with a lift of his eyebrows to Nikita, asked silently if she wanted another piece. She held out her leaf plate. He gave her another chunk of cooked snake and took one for himself.

The snake was delicious. Birkoff initially hadn't wanted any dinner. He was still feeling some anger at Walter for teasing him and his stomach hurt from tossing his lunch in the bushes. After Walter made him a conciliatory can of peppermint tea, he perked up when he smelled the aroma of the cooking snake. Smelled like barbecuing chicken. He decided to try to small piece only after Walter cajoled him into it, making his apologies known by giving the kid some sympathetic attention. Birkoff was mollified and then delighted by the taste and uniqueness of the snake. He told Walter, "Wait until the guys hear I ate rattlesnake."

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

The next morning, Michael informed the group that they would reach their pick up point that day, probably mid-afternoon. The reaction from everybody was the same. Mixed. While the hike had its tense moments, all in all it had been strangely enjoyable. Food had been plentiful. The weather had been gorgeous. The different personalities of their group had melded well, just like Michael had predicted. The addition of the dachshund had been a unique experience. For a few days, they had all enjoyed having a dog around. They would always remember her joy at chasing sticks, her impromptu swim with Cameron, her affectionate cuddling around the campfire at night. She was such a silly little dog, but her sweet disposition would make them always remember her fondly.

It was a more subdued company that hiked through the forest that morning. Michael held his hand up and stopped, close to noon. Everybody came up to his position and looked in the direction that he was pointing.

A rangers station. Occupied, from the looks of the open door and the suggestion of movement that they could see inside. Because they were all intelligent people, they knew what this station meant. Tashie would be leaving their group right now. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. The rangers would see that she was returned to her family.

Walter was carrying her at this point. "Well, girl, here's where you get off. It's been fun." He petted her head and passed her to Birkoff. Michael rolled his eyes slightly at this slightly emotional scene.

Birkoff buried his face in her hair on her side. "I'll miss you, Tashie." When he lifted his head, she gave him a lick on his nose. He looked at Nikita, "Think Madeline would let me have a dog?" At her skeptical look, "No, I guess not." Cameron stroked Tashie's head and murmured his goodbyes.

Michael asked, with just a hint of impatience, "Are you all through?" They nodded. "Nikita, you and I will take the dog down to the cabin. The rest of you wait here. We'll be right back." Birkoff passed the little dog over to Nikita's arms and she and Michael made their way to the rangers cabin.

Up on the porch, Nikita called out to the inhabitants of the station, "Hello, anybody here?" With her words, a pleasant looking young man, dressed in the forest service uniform, came out to meet them.

"Hi. Can I help you folks?" A nice man, Nikita felt. Tashie would be okay with him.

Nikita kept on being their spokeswoman. Michael was silent at her side. "I hope so. We found this little dog on our hike. She must have wandered off from her family. Anybody report a missing dog?" The ranger's eyes had grown excited as she finished her speech.

"Is this Tashie? Man, her family has been going nuts since she was lost, a few days ago. They will be mighty pleased to see her safe and sound. I can call down to our base and they will be here within an hour to pick her up." This was getting better and better. Tashie would be back with her family soon.

Nikita looked at Tashie. "Well, Tashie girl, you are going to be fine. Your family will be here soon."

The ranger told Nikita, "The family would love to meet you, I'm sure, and thank you in person for rescuing their dog. Can you stay and see them?" Nikita shook her head regretfully.

"I'm sorry. We can't." Nikita scratched the little dog's head and made her farewells. "Bye, Tashie. I've loved being with you these last few days. Be good." Tashie licked Nikita's hand. Nikita turned and looked at Michael. His eyebrows rose in puzzlement at the question she seem to be silently asking him.

"What?" He verbalized his query.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to Tashie?" Nikita was having some fun at his expense, he reasoned. Why would he have a conversation with a dog? Has the world gone crazy around him? Even the ranger seemed to be waiting for some kind of gesture from Michael towards the dog. What the hell.

He looked at the dog. Liquid brown eyes stared back at him. "Bye, dog. Try not to kill anyone else." The ranger looked startled and Nikita cocked her head at the lameness of his effort. She handed Tashie over to the ranger.

"Uh, thanks again for helping Tashie out. Enjoy the rest of your hike." The ranger made his farewells as Nikita turned to go. Her ‘you're welcome' was tossed back over her shoulder as she went down the steps of the cabin. Michael lingered just a few moments behind her. With a look at Nikita, noting that her back was turned, he reached out a tentative hand and scratched that very favorite spot behind Tashie's ear. With a nod at the ranger, he followed Nikita back up the hill to their hidden group.

Back in Section....

Michael silently entered Madeline's office, dressed again in his standard black suit, his hair ruthlessly combed back into order. He stopped in front of her desk and watched her reading his report of their survival mission. She was almost through. When she had finished the final sentence, she turned off the monitor and turned to face him.

"Interesting reading." Michael made no comment. She studied his face. It always seemed to be a battle of wills took place whenever they were in her office like this. Every comment had a purpose, every look a study of their opponents' reactions.

"A dachshund, hmm?" Michael nodded.

Madeline told him, "Well, Michael, I consider this trip a success. I am very pleased with all of you." Michael didn't know what to make of that. He didn't even understand the purpose of the trip, so how could he evaluate the outcome?

Michael started to ask, "Madeline...?", intending to ask her what the point of this whole exercise was. He stopped himself. Did he really need to know? Did he really want to know? Suddenly needing to be out of this office, he stopped his sentence and shook his head, indicating that he didn't have a question after all.

"Then, dismissed, Michael. I'll see you in the morning." Madeline looked away and activated her monitor again. Michael left as silently as he had entered.

Michael went back to his office, intending to shut it down and find Nikita. It was time to go home.

He paused and said that again in his thoughts. Go home. Looking out his window of his office, he looked over the large room, looking for Nikita. He didn't see her. Where could she be?

"Ready to leave?" Michael saw Nikita in the doorway to his office, a gentle smile on her face. Giving her a small smile in return, he nodded. Nikita moved further into his office. Like him, she had changed clothes on their return to Section. Unlike him, she had dressed in her usual wild fashion, a brightly printed tropical blouse over white jeans. The vivid colors contrasted so sharply with the institutional greys and greens of the Section walls and equipment. Just like Nikita was a contrast from every other operative here. Michael opened a desk drawer and removed a small paper bag and offered it to Nikita.

"A present? For me?" Nikita's smile got broader, like a child excited over an unexpected gift. Taking the bag and looking inside, she had to laugh. She pulled out a huge pink bath sponge and a bottle of bubble bath. Rose scented. Michael could always surprise her.

"I love it, Michael. Want to come home with me and try it out?" Michael's answer was to close his monitor and escort Nikita from his office. Walking together, side by side as they left Section, Michael murmured thoughtfully, for Nikita's ears only.

"Yes, I want to go home."

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