Chapter thirty-three ___________

When the waiter had taken their orders, Lalia ignored Paul's attempt at conversation. She was staring at Kryn with a worried look on her face. "You are aware that this is the third day in a row you've skipped breakfast?" Lalia shot a glance at Paul and he forgot what he'd been about to say. Kryn skipping meals was never a good sign.

"I'm just not hungry." Kryn drank some coffee and smiled. Then she shifted in her seat under their stare, which wasn't letting up anytime soon. "Stop it. What?"

"Kryn?" Lalia frowned at her and furrowed her eyebrows. "When is the last time you had a full meal?"

Kryn looked away and shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't really been hungry lately."

"You haven't been hungry lately." Lalia ran her tongue over her teeth. "Ok, well, you're going to eat now, and I don't really care if I have to force feed you. And don't try to fight me, you know damn well that I'm stronger than you are." She hailed the waiter who came over with another menu. Lalia put it in front of Kryn.

"You will pick something yourself, or I will pick the most fat-laden, high cholesterol, sugary thing on the menu."

Kryn bit her lip. "I'm really fine, guys. I'm just not hungry."

Paul opened the menu in front of her and started counting down. "Twenty, nineteen, eighteen....Kryn, if I reach one and you haven't picked something you're having the blintzes with sour cream and powdered sugar. Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen..."

"Fine!" Kryn took the menu from him, and when the waiter came back she ordered toast and eggs. "Are you happy now?" She handed the menu to the waiter and he left.

Lalia shook her head. "But I will be when I see you actually eat."

"You're both just overprotective." Kryn was pouting.

"Agreed. But I don't really have a great need to see you in a hospital. You have to eat. I won't watch you do this to yourself again. And stop pouting, you're over four hundred years old and you look like a child."

Kryn just glared at her, but Lalia wasn't looking anymore.

"So, Paul, what brings you to the caverns?"

Then she laughed. Now they were both glaring at her.

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

Chapter thirty-four (really, really short) ___________

"Damn!"

Berkoff got down on his knees and started picking up the stack of pads he'd knocked over. Madeline wasn't here, and he was in her office looking for a computer program he'd left.

He put the stack on her desk and went through making sure they were all facing the same way. And stopped.

Berkoff stared down at the pad. The data wasn't intact, but that was his name there at the top.

The pad had been deleted. Berkoff tried to retrieve the information, but it was too garbled.

He stared at it, and then he put it in his pocket.

Madeline would never even notice it was gone, not with that stack on her desk.

Berkoff picked up the disk with the program he'd come for and left.

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

Chapter thirty-five ___________

"Ok, so why *are* you here, Paul?" Lalia dropped onto the couch in her office, and Paul stayed in the doorway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, studying her desk.

"Lalia, even you can keep your desk cleaner than that." He walked over and picked up the top page. "How do you even know where anything is?"

"I just know. And you're avoiding the question."

"You sent me a letter telling me that the woman I love is a Savior. An *Inner Circle* savior. You also tell me in that letter that she can't find out who or what I am. You give good reasons, and it makes sense. I can live with it well, even. I've been hiding it from her all this time, I can hide it some more. I know I need to talk to you, but it isn't so pressing I go running out the door that second." Paul sat down, dropped his elbows to his knees and glared at her.

"*Then* I find out from Michael that *he* is also an Inner Circle Savior, and I start to wonder how many of my operatives *aren't*! So, I'm here."

"Oh." Lalia crossed her legs. "Well, you only have two other Saviors in Section."

"Besides Berkoff?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Right. Berkoff isn't in the count at the moment." Lalia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The Savior watching Berkoff is Walter."

Paul nodded. "Ok, well I thought that might be. And I knew you had someone watching him. So, that's fine. Who's the other, Lalia?"

"Nikita." She winced.

Here it comes....

"NIKITA!?" He stood up, and came very close to hitting her, but they both knew that he was way too out of practice to fight her. So he clenched his fist and sat back down.

"Nikita. Ok. Nikita." He stood back up and started pacing. "Nikita!?"

"Paul..." Lalia started to get up but he stopped her.

"No. No, I'm ok. I just needed a minute." He sat back down and closed his eyes. "Nikita?"

"We recruited her when she was thirteen. She, um..." Lalia stopped, but Paul nodded, so she kept going. "She lived in my rooms until she was twenty. She's...well, she's almost a daughter."

"A daughter." Paul stood back up and paced again. "I used mind control on the closest thing I'm ever likely to have to a niece. Wonderful. Great."

"Paul."

"Lalia, don't. It isn't your fault, it isn't mine. But I need just a little time." He left the room, but came back a minute later.

"I'll see you at dinner, ok?" He smiled. It was forced, but it was a smile.

"Ok."

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

Chapter thirty-six (S - HR) ___________

"He isn't taking it well." Nikita was standing in the doorway to Operation's office.

Michael looked up from the window. "Taking what well?"

"My being a Savior, and practically Lalia's daughter. She just sent me this." Nikita handed him a message.

"'Freaked out.' There's a phrase you don't expect to hear in Section." Michael skimmed the rest of the message.

"I'm guessing he'll be there a while." Nikita reached around him and pushed the dimmer button for the windows. Michael caught her hand.

"What are you doing?"

Her mouth was right on his ear. "Just giving us a little more privacy."

Michael's face softened a fraction and he put the pad down. "And why would we need privacy?" He turned to face her.

"Well..." Nikita ran her hands down his shirt "I was thinking that I might need to relax a little before the mission."

Michael smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "The mission isn't for two days."

"You never know, though." Nikita was talking into his mouth. "And I've been very jumpy since the abeyance mission. I think I need some help to calm down."

"I see." His hands slid down her skirt. "You need help to relax."

"If you don't mind too much." Her hands were working with his jacket buttons.

"Not in the least."

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

Chapter thirty-seven ___________

"Kryn?"

Lalia knocked again, and the door opened.

"What?" Kryn's hair was in her face, and she was out of breath. She did *not* look angry.

"Heh. Hi!" Lalia glanced behind Kryn and leered. Niscia was sitting on the couch, drinking wine. She raise her glass to Lalia.

"I'm gonna go with 'You aren't mad at me'. Sound right?" Lalia grinned at Niscia, who smiled back and took a sip from her glass.

"No, I'm not mad. Mad? Oh!" Kryn closed her eyes. "You mean breakfast. No, I'm not mad. I didn't even realize I was doing it until I got some food in me.

"Good. Will you be...um...done by dinner? Because I'm going to need your help to talk to Paul. He's having some trouble with the concept of Nikita being a Savior...especially.."

"That she's like a daughter to you? Yes, I'll be at dinner. Emotional support, thy name is me." Kryn smiled "However, if I could go now..."

Lalia snickered. "Yes, of course. See you tonight." She winked at Niscia and Kryn closed the door.

Lalia mock saluted the door and did an about face...right into Jack.

"There's a problem with Berkoff?" Jack's face was covered in worry. Those eyes of his...

Hey! Stop it.

"No. He's just being...he's being like his father." She flashed an evil smile.

"Ah. Ok. I was worried." A relieved smile slid across his face.

"Who told you, anyway?" Lalia's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't remember saying anything."

The two started walking down the hall towards the training rooms.

"No, no, I got a communiqué from Walter. He mentioned sending you a message about Berkoff. The language made me nervous." They were in front of the training room ops. Jack tweaked her shoulder and angled his chin inside. Lalia followed him in.

"I have something to show you." He was positively beaming. Lalia sat down and he ducked behind a large gun rack. He called to her over his shoulder.

"This is going to solve all your communication problems. Remember Dick Tracy?"

Lalia rolled her eyes. "If you've come up with a watch that transmits pictures and words, I may have to kill myself before I'm actually seen using it."

"No, no." Jack came out holding a large locket. "This is one step beyond, and out of the 'geek' world. Into the real world. Also, it's much more practical. Open the locket."

Lalia snapped open the lid and stared at the plain-looking mirror inside. "Ok, so it's a mirror. So I can adjust the makeup I don't wear. So what?"

Jack smirked at her. "It's like a one way window, only so much more advanced. Hold it with your thumb on top and forefinger on the bottom."

Lalia did, and the mirror swung away. Underneath was another mirror, but the back of the one that swung away was a com-pad, like the kind Paul had described from Section.

"Ok, so 'Q', where did you get the idea for this?" Lalia was mocking him with her voice, but not with her face. She was still studying the gadget in her hand.

"Your brother, when he was here last. I had this technology sitting in the back, thinking it was obsolete, because we tend to do the more intricate things with magic, but I get this idea when Paul told me about the 'screens' he uses for briefing his operatives." He came over behind her and took the locket. "It's voice activated. You say a persons code, and it calls them up. Works unit to unit and also unit to stand alone."

Lalia smiled. "This is beautiful." She stood up and kissed his cheek. "I love you!"

Jack beamed. "Why, thank you, madam." He handed her the locket back. "This one is yours. I was thinking, one for each Savior in Section, plus Paul? It's a simple, plain locket, the kind even a man might wear under his shirt."

Lalia nodded and put the locket on. "Perfect." She gave Jack a hug. "Thank you."

Jack watched her walk out of the room, and for the millionth time, thought about what it would have been like if she'd said yes.

Then he shook his head and pulled out a fried circuit board. Time for work. Let the past lie.

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

Chapter thirty-eight ___________

"Hey, Jack?" Paul sat down in the training room ops and waited for an answer. Nothing

"Jack?!"

"Yeah!" Jack came out from the back carrying a large piece of non-descript circuitry and put it down. "What's up?"

"You knew about Nikita, didn't you?"

Jack nodded but didn't look the least bit sorry. "You know, you left. You can't expect us to keep treating you like you're still in and still one of us when you jump ship like that."

Paul closed his eyes. "I know." He sighed and opened his eyes. "However, when I started playing with her mind, it would have been nice if someone had mentioned that my sister looks at her like a daughter."

Jack shrugged one shoulder. "Well, until then, it had almost looked like you were seeing her as a daughter yourself. No one saw that coming."

"I do see her as a daughter. At least, I did at the time. The niece concept is growing on me." Paul sighed again and glared at Jack's surprised glance. "Playing with her mind was, at the time, a last ditch resort to keep her alive. I really should have just canceled her. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

Jack nodded. "I get it. A controlled Nikita is still a breathing Nikita."

Paul nodded back. "If I had known, I just would have talked to her and explained the situation. But I didn't know."

"No one here holds it against you, though not one of us knows why." Jack grinned. "We should be mad enough at you to kill you with our thoughts. But somehow..."

Paul stood up and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't suppose it helps at all that I'm sorry."

Jack looked right back, but his face softened. "Paul, son of Rayne and Seiren, that does help, because it's from you."

Paul smiled at him and nodded. Jack watched him leave, just as he'd watched Lalia only an hour ago.

And suddenly noticed that they *both* had that same self assured walk

He'd never realized that it was a shared trait.

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

Chapter thirty-nine ___________

"The mission goes up tomorrow. Are you ready?"

After the common pleasantries, Madeline had dropped onto Nikita's couch and gotten right to the point.

"I wasn't aware that the mission tomorrow was special." Nikita sat down next to Madeline and handed her a cup of green tea.

Madeline glanced sideways at her before taking a sip of her tea. "Is it?"

"I assumed, since you're wondering if I'm ready." Nikita smiled at her. "Otherwise, why would you ask?"

Madeline closed her eyes and grinned. "I keep forgetting how perceptive you are. Yes, it's special." She crossed her legs and took another sip of tea.

Nikita grinned. "Were you going to tell me why, or are you just here to make my nights sleep uncomfortable?"

Madeline finished her small cup of tea and stood up to get some more. Nikita followed her into the kitchen.

"Madeline?" She handed Madeline the potholder. "The suspense is killing me."

Madeline finished pouring her tea. "The man who gave Red Cell the formula works in the target building. We want you to bring him out. Alive, preferably. We want him to work for us."

Nikita frowned. "Why wasn't this brought up at the meeting?"

"Because no one is to know that we have him, including our own people. I'm telling you, and only you. Michael was *going* to do it, but with Operations gone, he can't lead the mission. So, *you* will retrieve him, using any means necessary." Madeline turned her head and met Nikita's eyes. "Michael and I have had a discussion about this, and we have decided that this takes precedence over all. So, 'any means necessary' does mean *any* means necessary."

Nikita nodded. Madeline's message was coming through loud and clear, clearer than most people would expect or even guess.

She took a sip of her own tea and ran the thought through her head.

She'd never used magic on a Section mission before. This could be interesting.

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

Chapter forty ___________

"Lalia, can I talk to you?"

She looked up. Serge was standing just insider her door, holding a long, sleek butcher knife, sheathed.

"Uh huh. What's up with the very large weapon?" Lalia eyed it. As they were her personal favorite, she was amazing with knives, and had a large collection of both antique and custom-made pieces. This one was no antique, but Serge's taste in cutlery was always, in Lalia's opinion, flawless.

Serge smiled. "It's old and dead. I need a new set, and I was going to head over to Enniscrone to buy some, but all the boats are out, and you know how I feel about planes."

Lalia grinned. "'If you aren't flying them yourself, no go'. You want to take my boat, is that it?"

Serge flashed another of his killer smiles, and Lalia reflected one more time that it almost seemed impossible that this man was not a model. Tall, dark and handsome was literally the perfect description for him.

And muscled. Though not to that point where it was too much...just right.

Lalia closed her eyes and shook it.

You never dated him because you didn't want to lost the friendship, remember? So *stop* this right now!

"May I?" Serge was standing over her desk and Lalia jumped to realize that she'd lost almost a full minute.

That's what happens when you let your mind wander. Knock it off.

"Of course." Lalia handed him the keys to her boat and smiled. "Let me know when you get back, ok?"

Serge nodded and smiled. "Do you want this?" He held up the old knife. "I know you have a thing for them. This is the only one any good. The rest I threw out."

"Thank you!" Lalia took the knife from him and pulled it from it's sheath. As usual with the knives Serge rejected, there was nothing actually wrong with it. It just no longer had the shine and shape of a perfectly new knife. And with all the gourmet cooking he did, he needed all his knives to be perfect.

She looked up and smiled at Serge. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." He turned around a left. Lalia watched him go and tried to catch her breath.

That accent of his got her every time.

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

Chapter forty-one ___________

Berkoff slipped the pad into the computer.

This was the first moment he'd gotten alone in Section since finding the pad in Madeline's office. With that mission coming up, it seemed like everyone had been here twenty-four, seven.

But now, no one at all. Just Berkoff.

He hit a few keys and waited. The computer tried to restore the information on the pad, but it was finding problems. The system kept hitting a glitch and having to start over.

Berkoff searched through the data he had looking for the cause.

And blinked. Twice.

A completely incompatible computer system had sent the information. It had been converted to Section system requirements, but only enough so that the data was readable. It couldn't be restored, because the data was too foreign in origin for the system to know where to put the pieces.

So, it couldn't have come from another Section.

Berkoff swiveled his chair around and looked for the computer transmission to the main terminal. Wherever the signal came from...

The signal came from Section Eleven.

Berkoff stared and rubbed his eyes in frustration. It *couldn't* have come from Section Eleven, because all Section computers used the same OS.

Berkoff stopped.

Why didn't I check that before?

He went through the other transmissions from the same place. They were all from that odd OS.

So, the 'Circle Island' *wasn't* Section Eleven. But that's what all the messages were logged as, and Operations, Walter and Nikita had all received messages from it.

So, what the hell *was* on that island??

And why where the messages coming from it talking about *him?*

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

Chapter forty-two ___________

"Walter?" Nikita sat down at his workbench. "What's the last thing you sent to Lalia?"

"I sent her a report on Berkoff. Why?" He wasn't really looking at her, but at the circuit board in front of him.

Wow. Operations really copied the Circle post for post. That's exactly what Jack was doing last time I saw him.

But thinking about Jack almost made Nikita feel guilty, what with Michael's position these days, not that she understood it, at all....

Still...

She hurried on, and pushed it out of her mind.

"Well, I just got something from Kryn. She said you've got Lalia worried. So much that she went off for a night to her mystery lover." Nikita was careful not to look at Walter when she said it. Everyone knew that Walter was completely aware of who Lalia was sleeping with, and he wasn't telling a soul.

Walter glanced up, but didn't hold the gaze. "Oh yeah?" He threw the electronic mess on a scrap heap. Dead, dead, dead. "I didn't really mean to worry her. Although, now I think maybe she should be. We all should."

Nikita's eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you think that?"

Walter pulled a laptop computer from behind the counter. He swiveled it to show Nikita the screen. "Berkoff had assumed that Circle Island was Section Eleven, which was what Lalia had set up, with her login and such. But yesterday, when we were all out of Section, he got hold of a message Lalia sent to Madeline, about Berkoff." Walter changed the screen to show all the computer activity for the day before. Nikita started scrolling down the page as Walter talked. "The pad was partially deleted, but he must have seen his name, because he was trying to retrieve the information."

Walter hit another button, and Nikita pulled her hand from the keyboard. There was an analysis of the data flow on the screen.

Walter sighed. "He saw the differences in systems. He knows it isn't a Section. Sine then, he's been tracking everything, both in and out."

Nikita closed her eyes. "Is there any way to get around his tracking?"

"Sure. Lalia can easily write something to get around it. And since Operations knows about Michael now..." Walter stopped. Nikita had winced at Michael's name.

"Hey, sugar, you ok?"

Nikita nodded and forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just don't seem to be getting a lot of sleep lately."

Walter winked. "Well, I know I saw those windows dim the other day when you were in there talking to Michael. That can't be helping the sleep."

Nikita smiled. "None of your business."

Walter grinned back at her. "Whatever you say, sugar."

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

Chapter forty-three ___________

"So, I'm not ok, but I'm on the road to wellness." Paul dropped into the chair opposite Lalia and shook his head at the menu the waiter offered. Not ok, and nowhere near ready to eat.

"Well, at least you're starting to sound like yourself again. However you speak at Section, it ain't the guy I grew up with." Lalia made a face at the menu. Serge was still on the mainland, and he had left an assistant to do the cooking. Nothing looked good, though she wasn't sure if it was the food choices themselves, or the knowledge that someone else was in the kitchen.

"Never fear, I is here." Kryn sat down and leaned over to kiss Paul's cheek. "Hey. How are you doing?"

He almost glared at her, but the look on her face was of genuine concern.

So he went with sarcasm instead.

"Gee, I just found out today that the woman I think of as a daughter was raised by my sister and is Gifted. Therefore, I didn't need to use any king of mind control on her to save her life, I *could* have just talked to her. Not to mention that all my best operatives are Saviors. Ok, that last bit I can deal with, it might even come in handy. But still..."

He dropped his head into his hands, and Kryn ran her hand up and down his back.

"If it will make you feel better, no one's mad at you. And you'll be fine. It'll all be fine eventually."

"Is that your professional opinion?" He was mumbling into his hands, but the sarcastic tone came through just fine.

"Well..." Lalia handed her menu to Kryn, because she couldn't seem to grab a waiters attention. Everyone in here got moody when Serge wasn't cooking. "Look at is this way. In twenty years, none of this will matter."

This time Paul gave in to the temptation. He shot her a glare that would have wilted a perfect rose.

Lalia's eyes got very wide and she looked away. "Wow, Paul. If looks could kill..."

Kryn excused herself.

She didn't want to laugh at Paul in his face.

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

Chapter forty-four ___________

Nikita pulled her black hood off and ducked into the women's room. Berkoff's voice crackled in her ear.

"Clear. Change quickly. You have fifteen minutes to get him out of there."

Telling Berkoff had been Nikita's idea. She knew that he was trustworthy, but she also knew that she'd need the intel he would have in order for her get the subject out of the building unseen.

"Check." Nikita closed the stall door and slid out of her black sweater. Her pants were black, but business quality, so she just had to put a blouse on. She slipped a cream silk shell on, and put a jacket over it, to cover the gun she was wearing.

"Subject on floor twelve. Go."

Nikita stuffed her sweater and hood into her briefcase and left the washroom. She caught the elevator and smiled coyly at the man who'd held the door. He smiled back.

On the way up, Nikita reflected that this was the second mission in as many weeks that she'd been responsible for bringing a person back to Section alive and well.

It seemed odd. Not that she was getting the missions, but that they existed, and were coming so close together.

The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and took on a few more people. Nikita moved closer to the back of the lift to allow room.

Giavani was the first. What was his use to Section? He was good with explosives, but better with intricate weaponry...

And now they were kidnapping man who created a formula for lacing ammunition with explosives.

They'd need someone to put it together, without it going off, and who better than Giavani, who had done this kind of thing a million times before?

Nikita closed her eyes and smiled to herself. They were certainly being clever, weren't they? No trusting inexperienced in-house people when you could just as easily kidnap the ones who *really* know what they're doing. Not that Walter wouldn't be able to pull it off, but if he made a mistake and something blew, he's gone. And loosing Walter wasn't an option. So they grab people they can afford to lose and replace.

The elevator opened on the twelfth floor. Nikita excused herself and pushed past an elderly man.

Berkoff's voice came into her ear once more.

"Stop. New intel coming through."

Nikita laid her briefcase down on a nearby glass-topped table and pulled a compact out of he pocket. She started reapplying her lipstick.

"Subject has left the building. Abort. Nikita, get back to the van. We're going to try to follow him. Demolition team is on it's way. Get out now!" Berkoff's voice was a tad urgent. Nikita hit the stairs.

She was just barely clear of the building when a loud explosion was heard and the top floor went up in flames.

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

Chapter forty-five ___________

"You lost him." Madeline wasn't asking.

"Yes." Nikita dropped into the chair in front of Madeline's desk and handed her the mission record. "They saw us coming a mile away, and got him out."

Madeline nodded. "Well, this isn't anyone's fault, but we have to get him."

Nikita snickered quietly. "Of course we do. Otherwise, grabbing Giavani was a waste."

Madeline looked up, but she was smiling. "Like I said, you're very perceptive." She turned around and handed Nikita a different pad. "This is where we're going to make out next attempt. There will be no briefing. Talk to Michael or Berkoff if you have any questions."

Nikita nodded and stood to leave. "So, what do you have Giavani doing right now?"

Madeline just smiled and went back to her computer. Nikita gave a half smile, nodded again and left.

** "Berkoff?" Nikita came up behind him and he jumped.

"What? I'm busy." He didn't even glance up from the computer.

"I just have a quick question." She waived the pad in front of his face and he looked up at her and then at it.

"Ok." He went back to the computer, but with less intensity. "Talk. I'm listening."

"How am I supposed to get him out? There aren't any windows in the security system for that warehouse."

Berkoff frowned and turned back to her. "What?" He took the mission disk and put it in the computer. The sim showed up on the screen.

"Ok, see that?" Berkoff pointed to the screen, and Nikita followed his hand. "That's where you get out. We're creating the window."

Nikita nodded. "Ok." She smiled at him and turned to leave, but her eyes caught the screen on his laptop.

"What are you working on?" She resisted the impulse to snatch the computer.

"Oh." Berkoff glanced at his computer and closed the lid. "Nothing, really. I have other stuff to do, though.."

"Right." Nikita forced herself to walk away.

Berkoff had his computer in the main system. It was decoding the original message from Lalia.

Nikita headed right for Michael's office. This was a definite problem.

Walter was right. The time for panicking was at hand.

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

Chapter forty-six ___________

"How long are you staying?" She just walked in. Lalia never knocked on Paul's door unless it was locked.

"I have no idea. A day. A week. A month. Until I can think about what I did to Nikita without feeling sick to my stomach." He put down the book he'd been reading and covered his face. "You know, when you saw me doing that, you might have said something."

"Like what? 'Paul, I know you don't want anything to do with me or the Circle, but the woman you're trying to brainwash is not only a Savior we planted in your organization, but also the woman I look at as a daughter.' Yeah, that would have worked really well. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself." Lalia rolled her eyes and sat down on the floor at his feet.

"Ok. Point taken." Paul stood up and went for the kitchen but he kept talking over his shoulder. "*Everyone* seems to be on that 'we aren't mad at you' kick." He came back out with a bottle of water. "Bullshit. You all just don't want me to feel bad. There is not one person in these caverns who *actually* isn't mad at me."

Lalia raised her hand. "I'm not."

Paul raised the water to her in a toast. "That's one." He took a long drink.

"Nikita isn't. Though, don't ask me why."

Paul sat back down. "She really isn't? I find that hard to believe."

"She really isn't. We've had this conversation, she and I. According to her, you should have canceled her, and you did this instead. That's also Michael's position." She turned around and lay flat on the floor, with her legs on the couch. "So, the three of us, not mad. Kryn either. That makes four. Walter told me the same thing when it was happening, so that makes five." She leered up at him. "Any questions?"

"She'll never trust me now." He closed his eyes and finished the water.

"Au contraire. She would and does trust you with her life." Lalia closed her eyes. "And I trust you with her."

Paul winced without noticing that he had.

And Lalia still had her eyes closed, so she didn't see it.

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

Chapter forty-seven ___________

Berkoff resisted the urge to hit his computer, but just barely.

First, it *refused* to decode that original message. Someone had gotten into the system as he'd been doing it and cut him off, and he'd ended up with no more than what he'd *started* with! Then, he'd just missed some message coming in to Nikita. The program he'd written hadn't been up in time. Missed it by exactly three minutes. It had even had a different login, but it was from the same place. Nikita had erased it immediately, and Berkoff hadn't gotten to it fast enough.

So now he'd spent the last three hours searching the computer for signs of another transmission from that island, and it hadn't shown a thing. *Now*, it was showing that one had happened, *while he'd been watching*, had in fact gone right past his program.

So, someone knew he was watching the system, and was blocking him.

Someone who knew computers.

Berkoff happened to know that no one in Section knew computers the way he did. But no one had sent anything out, so how would someone outside Section know to avoid his program?

There were only three possibilities. Berkoff sat back and went over each one in his head.

One: Someone inside Section really *was* as good as he was, and had gotten around the program without him seeing it. But that was no good, because he'd have at least seen them log on. So, that was a no.

Two: Someone inside had sent a warning message out without using the main Section computers. A distinct possibility, since there were plenty of com pads flying around. Walter wasn't fussy about handing them out, as long as you got it back to him before it was missed. They weren't good for incoming, but just fine for outgoing.

Three: The person sending in had seen the program. There were undoubtedly people *outside* of Section as good as Berkoff. Obviously, someone was, because they *had* gotten past him. So, this person could have *seen*, and avoided, the program. But they'd have had to log on first, and he'd have seen them, for a second at the very least. So that was out.

Which meant that the second was the only answer. Someone inside knew he was tracking messages and had warned the outside sender to avoid the program.

Now, who knew he was tracking the com lines? Berkoff closed his eyes and searched his memory. It was in there...

Nikita.

Nikita had seen his computer screen, had even asked about it. *And*, she was on the list of people who'd received messages from that island.

So, it had to be her.

Berkoff opened his eyes and swiveled around to face the main console. He had a lot of work to do.

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

Chapter forty-eight (mission) ___________

The van was parked three streets over. It wasn't visible from the lower floors of the office building, but Nikita could see it as she rose in the transparent elevator.

She was dressed as she had been before, but this time she'd been able to walk into the building straight and normal, due to a "glitch" in the security system that failed to record her face. She'd even flashed the security guard a bright smile before getting on the elevator. The camera *there* had been having problems all day.

She stepped of at the twenty-third floor and smiled at the security guard, who nodded hurriedly. The camera's had just gone out on the entire floor, and he was in a hurry to get to the control room.

The door to the main office was open. Nikita walked in and smiled at the receptionist who didn't look up. Then Nikita shot a tranquilizer into the back of the receptionist's neck. His head dropped onto the desk.

Nikita pushed past the large double doors into the main conference room.

"Is there a Mr. Jimin here?"

One man stood and smiled. "I'm Kraig Jimin."

Nikita's eyes narrowed and everyone else in the room slipped to the floor, unconscious.

"Mr. Jimin, I'm looking for a Fen Leonard." She pulled a gun from her purse. "And you are going to tell me where he is."

Kraig shook his head resolutely. Nikita slid her hand down his arm seductively and stopped at his hand.

Little red veins appeared at her fingertips and started to spread under hear touch. The polished business man screamed into the gag Nikita barely got over his mouth.

"You *will* tell me where he is."

Kraig nodded vigorously, tears leaking from behind his closed eyes.

Three hours later, Fen Leonard was in containment at Section.

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

Chapter forty-nine ___________

"Do you want to tell us what happened to his hand?" The female torture twin lifted Kraig Jimin's hand and inspected it.

Madeline shook her head and smiled. "Just find out what he knows about the Red Cell project." She left the white room, and the door slammed shut behind her.

Nikita was waiting outside the room. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing. And they won't ask questions." Madeline gave Nikita an half smile. "Was that really *necessary*? Something tells me that he would have cracked without that particular type of persuasion."

Nikita pretended to frown. "I'm insulted."

"Then I retract the question." Madeline was resisting the urge to laugh, and the two headed down the hall towards Madeline's office.

Nikita noted the guards reaction as they passed a containment room. She guessed it was odd to see the two of them so comfortable together.

But then, that's what comes of shared secrets, as Lalia always taught.

Madeline finally managed to swallow her laughter. "I got a message from Lalia, along with a small program. She said that it would avoid Berkoff's tracking program?"

Nikita nodded. "I got the same message. It changes slightly each time it's used, so he shouldn't be able to track it. Emphasis on the *shouldn't*. The changes are random, but based on an algorithm, and Berkoff will figure it out eventually. It's a temporary fix." She made a face. "At least, according to Lalia. I wouldn't know an algorithm if it jumped up and bit me."

They got to her office and Madeline frowned. She stopped outside the door and turned back to Nikita. "What would be a permanent fix?"

Nikita shrugged. "I don't know. But we have to start watching what we do with communiqué's from the caverns." Nikita's voice had a slightly reproaching tone which Madeline chose to ignore for the moment. She just nodded and walked into her office. Nikita followed.

"I think, " Nikita sat down "that Lalia has an idea how to fix this. She hinted about it in her last message to me. I guess I'll find out next time I go, though that may be a while, what with the workload around here lately."

Madeline nodded again. "Ok." She smiled. "By the way, Jimin's hand? That was a very nice technique. How did you do that?"

This time, Nikita just smiled. She got up and walked out, throwing "Goodbye, Madeline" over her shoulder.

Madeline closed her eyes and shook her head, laughing to herself.

Something tells me I'll never be as good at that kind of magic as she is.

She turned to her computer. Work. Section. That was something *she* was better at.

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

Chapter fifty ___________

George Jr., Greg to his friends, called three more times before he gave up. His father was simply *not* going to answer his phone tonight.

He stood up and stretched, gazing around his apartment. His eyes fell on a woman's light-blue button-down cashmere sweater, carefully folded on a chair. Not that Lalia ever carefully folded anything, but when Greg had noticed that she'd left it, he hadn't wanted it to get wrinkled.

Not, of course, that she'd have ever noticed if it had been. And he smiled to remember that the sweater hadn't really covered a whole lot to begin with.

Lalia wasn't one for modesty.

Greg sighed and reached for his night stand. He pulled the ring out one more time and looked at it.

All talk and no action. Weak, man. So weak.

Yet one more time, Lalia had been right here in his bed, and he hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask her.

Greg had no idea whether it was the idea of her rejecting him that stopped him, or the idea of facing Jack when and if she accepted. Either way, he just couldn't seem to do it. Four simple words, and he couldn't get them past that lump in his throat.

He considered calling her, and had actually picked up the cordless phone when it rang in his hand.

"Hello." Greg dropped the ring back in the drawer as he said.

"I don't suppose you've been trying to call me?"

Greg grinned and shook his head.

"What gave it away dad? The phone messages or the fact that I'm the only one with this number?"

George Sr. managed a smile, half a continent away. "The phone messages. What do you need?"

Greg sighed and closed his eyes, bracing himself.

If you can't talk to *him*, how will you ask *her*? Just do it.

"Dad, how would you feel about me getting married?"

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

Chapter fifty-one ___________

"Why Nikita?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why Nikita, and not someone else? Anyone else."

"Too many reasons to count."

Paul sighed at his sister, running his hands through his hair. This was getting to be a longer trip than he'd planned, but it couldn't be helped.

"Try." He looked her straight in the eye as he said it.

"Ok. One, I raised her, so she knew, better than anyone, how important Berkoff was. Two, she didn't know Walter, so there wasn't any chance of a slip. Three, she knew about you, how I felt about you, how you felt about me, and she knew what to do in an emergency for you." On the last, Lalia raised one eyebrow at Paul and he smiled.

"Ok." He smiled. "And? That's three. You said 'too many to count'. That would *have* to be more than three."

She smirked at him. "You can't guess the rest?" She laughed at herself and closed her eyes. "Did I just rhyme?"

"Slightly. But that's not important. And yeah, I could guess the rest, but I'd rather hear it from you."

Lalia opened her mouth to answer him, but a knock on the door managed stopped her.

"Yeah?"

Serge came in, triumphantly holding a large flat square box. "Best knives in Ireland. I had to order them and have them express shipped, but here they are. Are they not beautiful?"

He opened the box on Lalia's desk and smiled expectantly at her while she struggled to remember to close her mouth. The knives were pure steel, with hand-carved wooden handles.

"They are indeed." She smiled, then wrinkled her nose in thought. She looked up at him and squinted, frowning slightly. "And just how much did we spend on these?"

Serge's smile broadened. "Nothing. I traded something I didn't need anymore to the merchant."

Paul leaned forward to look at the knives. He knew Lalia pretty well, or at least he thought he did, and she didn't get quite that engrossed by knives, no matter how nice.

They *are* beautiful. He looked at the expression on his sisters face.

Ok, but not *that* beautiful.

Paul glanced at Serge's face.

Aha!

He sighed, and thought about the night he'd gotten to the caves. She hadn't been there. From the looks of things, she hadn't been with Serge, either, because they were still on the flirting stage of things. Which meant, if Paul knew Lalia at *all*, there was going to be yet one more broken heart out there soon.

Lalia didn't handle the idea of commitment well, or at least, commitment to a man. When she felt it coming, that's when she ran.

Whoever he is, he must be getting just a little too close for comfort.

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

Chapter fifty-two ___________

"Hey, Nikita!" Berkoff jogged to catch up with her and she smiled at him.

"What's up, Berkoff?"

"I have something for you." He grinned at her and handed her a small jewelry box.

Nikita opened it and her eyes widened. "This is beautiful!" She pulled out the bracelet and ran it through her hands, looking at it.

Simple silver, no jewels or ornaments, just one of those little name tag deals. It had her name written across the name plate in script.

"Thank you, but what is this *for*?"

Berkoff grinned wider. "I'm glad you like it, but actually, it's a computer." He reached over and put it on her wrist and then pressed at one of the links. Small green writing started to flow across the metal.

Nikita's eyebrows raised. "Where did you get this?"

Berkoff shook his head. "I didn't, I made it. I wanted to know if you'd be willing to try it out for a while?" He took her hand again and pulled a small wire out of the side of the 'screen'. "It connects to a laptop here. Just try it, see if it works? I don't want to take it to Operations without testing it at least once, and I can't really test it for user ease myself."

Nikita nodded and grinned back at him. "I'd love to."

She kissed his cheek and walked away.

Berkoff watched her go, and then sprinted back to com. He sat down and turned on his laptop and connected to the wireless transmitter next to him.

There she was. He had a clear picture of whatever she put her hand on.

Ok. So, do something interesting already!

Chapter fifty-three ___________

Nikita frowned at the unmarked package in her hands. She bit her lip. Anonymous packages were never good in her world. She closed her eyes and narrowed them in concentration, trying to feel around in the box, just in case.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Whatever it was, it wasn't dangerous.

Tearing open the box, she found a note from Lalia along with three lockets. Nikita put the lockets on the counter and opened the letter.

*"Dear Nikita,

These are a new idea from Jack. There are instructions on how to use them attached. Make sure Michael and Walter get theirs, but keep in mind that Madeline *doesn't* get one, and she can't know what they're for because Paul will be wearing one.

Paul won't be back for a few more days, if not a week or so. He's still dealing. He really does think of you as a daughter. I'm almost jealous."

*Nikita smiled there.*

"Keep an eye on Berkoff, ok? And talk to Walter about not sending messages to Jack that'll worry him. The last thing Jack needs is to worry about Berkoff. I mean it.

Kryn sends her love and Serge says, and I quote, 'make sure to eat'.

Also, I love you. Be careful. I know you can take care of yourself, but just for my own piece of mind, be careful.

And take a look at the picture in your locket.

~ Lalia."*

Nikita put the letter down and opened the locket with the letter "N" on it in script.

Inside was a picture of Nikita at thirteen when she'd just gotten to the caverns. She was wearing an oversized black sweater and *braces*, for gods sake. She was proudly holding a large piece of charred wood that she'd just burned with her mind.

Nikita smiled and closed the locket, putting the chain around her neck. She slipped it under her shirt and put the rest of them in her pocket. Then she closed up her apartment and headed for Section to give Walter and Michael their lockets.

**

Berkoff stared at his screen.

Interesting picture.

He scrolled back up. There was the letter, but it was fuzzy because of the way she'd been holding it to read.

He swiveled around and grabbed a small black box from the computer behind him, unplugging it.

Attaching it to his own laptop, Berkoff started to clear the image on his screen.

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

Chapter fifty-four ___________

"Hey Sugar!" Walter put down the soldering iron and smiled.

"Walter. I have a gift for you!" Nikita hugged him, with the locket in her hand. When she let go, it was in his back pocket.

"Watch it, Sugar. I could get used to your hand there." He leered at her and felt his pocket. "What is it?"

"New idea from Jack. Lalia sent instructions, I folded them inside the lid."

"New idea." Walter made a face. "And I always love new ideas from Jack oh, so very much."

Nikita gave a mock frown. "Walter!"

"What?"

"When are you two going to realize that this isn't a contest?"

Walter raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. "When I win."

Laughing, Nikita shook her head and turned her back on him, heading towards Berkoff.

"Nikita, what happened here?" Berkoff pulled up a recording of the torture twins at work and zeroed in on Jimin's hand.

Nikita didn't even bat an eye. "Oh. It's the reaction to a new drug."

He looked at her oddly, but he nodded. "OK."

Nikita stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. She needed to talk to Michael and give him his locket.

Berkoff watched her go and noticed Walter pulling something out of his back pocket. It was the locket. Berkoff had watched on his screen when she hugged Walter. One of the lockets in the package she got.

He frowned.

Operations wasn't here, so she shouldn't have had to sneak it, with just Madeline here. But she did, so Madeline couldn't have known about it. But Madeline had gotten at least two messages from that island.

Berkoff shook his head and went back to work.

Not enough information yet. But time would solve that.

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

Chapter fifty-five ___________

Lalia handed the bag across onto the Circle boat and smiled. "Ok. When will you be back *this* time?"

"One week. Exactly. To the day." Paul smiled and leaned back over to kiss her cheek. "Sure you won't ride to the mainland with me?"

Lalia shook her head, causing her braids to swirl. Paul almost laughed at her. She only wore braids when she'd forgotten to comb her hair straight when it dried, but she always said it was for 'fun' because she couldn't admit to having forgotten to do something.

"I have too much work to do. But if you're just dying for a chat, use the locket. You should practice anyway. Kinda tricky."

Paul nodded. The locket was under his shirt, and barely made a bump. When he slipped his jacket on you'd never even notice it.

The boat pulled away and Lalia waived for a minute before turning back to the hills and starting back up the path.

When Lalia got to the gardens, Nikita was walking towards the entrance from the other direction and a helicopter was just lifting off.

"Hey! What are you doing here already? You weren't supposed to be here 'till tomorrow!"

They ducked inside so they didn't have to shout.

"I know, but I needed to get here now, before something else comes up, and I wanted to beat Madeline in."

Lalia frowned. "You wanted to beat Madeline in? Why on earth..."

"She had me use my powers on a mission." Nikita wouldn't meet her eyes.

"OK...and?"

"Wait. That's it? No lecture on safe magic, no reprimand?"

"Wha-?" Lalia tried very hard not to laugh. "God, Nikita, you're not a child anymore! You can make your own decisions. So you used magic on a mission! Did anyone who can out you see it?" Nikita's head shook. "Did you kill someone?" Again a no. "Then what's the problem?"

Nikita just stared straight ahead. "I thought that..."

"That magic wasn't to be used aggressively. But that's for children who don't know how to control their Gifts. Not for grown Saviors, and certainly not for *Inner Circle* Saviors. I trust you. You don't need to check in with me on these things anymore."

"There's one more thing, though."

"Yes?" Lalia was reading through a report she'd pulled from her pocket.

"I think Berkoff has feelings for me."

Lalia's head snapped up. "What?!"

"He gave me this." Nikita held up her arm and Lalia took her wrist, turning the bracelet so she could see it.

**

Berkoff stared at the image on his screen and cursed himself for not having had the time to add audio to the image.

Staring back at him was that woman from the cave who'd ordered Walter to take care of him and protect him.

Walter had said she worked for George.

Why do these things always have to be so complicated?

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

Chapter fifty-six ___________

"Did you get there alright?" Michael's concern radiated from the small screen of the locket. He was in her apartment in bed, where Nikita had left him. She'd left in the middle of the night, and had barely woken him to tell him she was leaving.

"Yes, I got here just fine. I really *am* sorry I just left like that, but I needed to talk to Lalia. In person. Now."

Nikita saw Michael nod, though with these little things it was kind of hard to tell. "Alright, well, let me know when you're coming back, ok?"

Nikita smiled. "Ok. I'll do that."

The said their good-byes and Nikita closed her locket. The minute she heard the snap, her face crumbled. Only here, in the caverns would she let herself cry. And she wasn't even sure why she was crying!

She shook her head to clear it and headed to her own room. Lalia would have to wait. There was no way Nikita could face the calm, un-fazable Savior right now. She just couldn't.

There were fifteen messages tacked to her doorpost. She smiled and gathered them before pushing into her room. The Circle, with all it's technology and magic still couldn't come up with a better way of sending personal notes to missing Saviors than tacking them to the person's door.

Lalia said it felt "college-y".

One note was from Serge. Something about a new wine in. Seven from people who wanted to know how Berkoff was doing. Four from housekeeping, wanting to know if there was going to be any cleanup with the magic use in Section. Two from Lalia - one asking her something dumb, and the other telling her that she didn't have to answer, because Lalia had figured it out. One from Jack. And one from Operations.

Operations?

Nikita dropped her bag on the floor while she sorted the messages. The only long ones were from Lalia, Jack and Operations. The rest were short notes and went in the trash.

When she pulled her hand back from the waste basket, her bracelet got caught on the edge of the table and a link broke. Nikita frowned and picked it up, dropping it in her bag. She'd have Jack take a look at it later. A twinge of guilt went through her at the thought of Jack, but she ignored it.

Michael just wanted her not to train with him. Nikita wasn't going to drop a lifelong friend on a whim.

**

Berkoff stared at the screen, and it took all his self control not to swear out loud.

Damn, damn, damn! She had to break it! Why the hell can't she take care of her equipment?

He screwed his eyes shut and counted to ten to calm down, and then looked back at the screen. Black. She'd dropped it in her carryall, and he couldn't see a damn thing.

Berkoff called down and ordered a pizza. If he had to sit here for days, he was going to see the very next thing that bracelet saw.

No matter what.

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

Chapter fifty-seven ___________

*"Nikita.

I don't know if you hold it against me, all I did to you in Section. I don't know how you view what happened, or how you see what I put you through as. And much as I want to clear the air between us, I can't do that in a letter.

So, I just want you to know that I have, since the day you entered Section, and will always, love you as I would my own daughter. I have thought before that if I could release you from Section, I would. Now that I know why you're there, I don't feel better about it. You, of all people, deserve more, and I hope one day we will find a way to get you out.

Please, when you get back to Section. We need to talk.

Paul*

"Paul". Not Operations. Paul.

Nikita put the letter down and went to her fridge for some water. She downed it in one swallow and came back to the couch.

She read the letter again.

And again.

She put the letter down and pulled her locket out from under her shirt.

Staring at it, Nikita bit her lip. Did she really want to do this?

She took the locket off and put it on the table. She needed time to think.

Pulling her bag off the floor, Nikita opened it and got the broken bracelet out. She stood up and left her room, slipping the jewelry into her pocket.

I'll talk to Jack. He always has advice. I just need time to think. God, I wish Walter was here!

** Berkoff almost crowed with delight. She'd taken out the bracelet!

Then he got depressed again when it went in her pocket.

The woman is just not co-operating!

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

Chapter fifty-eight (S - TR) ___________

"Madeline! What're you doing in here?" Paul winced even as the words came out.

Smooth. That was really smooth.

"I'm waiting for you." Madeline's smile faded a bit, but the professional in her didn't let it fall.

"I didn't mean that. It was just a long flight." He frowned. "Ok, if you're here, who's watching Section?"

"Michael." She left her seat on the couch and picked up her coat from a chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be so tired. I'll leave." Still the professional, her smile never wavered.

An arm shot out and caught her just before she reached the door. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Section. I wasn't aware I'd be intruding."

"You are never intruding." His arm swiveled her around, and he held her there until he caught her eyes. Paul dropped his bags and coat, but didn't let go. The minute both arms were free he pulled her into a kiss.

"You are *never* intruding." It was barely a whisper, his breath tickling her lips.

Madeline's eyes closed. "You know I would never want to..."

"You. Are. Never. Intruding." Each word was punctuated by a kiss as he traced her jaw line to her neck. Madeline smiled and closed her eyes.

"You know that we have to be back in three hours?"

Paul's mouth never left her neck. "I doubt the world will end if we're late."

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

Chapter fifty-nine ___________

"Hey, Jack?" Nikita flopped into a chair and waited for a reply. When she didn't get one, she yelled louder.

"Hey, Jack!"

Jack's head popped over a gun rack. Nikita squinted up at him.

"So, Jack, when did you grow four feet?"

"Very funny." He disappeared for a minute and then he came around the side. "Ever hear of a step ladder?"

Nikita smiled. "No one appreciates my sense of humor."

Jack shook his head. "Not if we can help it. What can I do for you?"

She pulled the bracelet out and held it up in front of her. "Can you fix this?"

Jack took it and put it under a light. "Of course I can fix it." He gave her an odd look. "Who gave it to you?"

"What makes you think it was a present?"

Jack just stared at her.

"Ok, fine. It was Berkoff. And I don't know why."

He put the bracelet down and walked behind a crate. "Berkoff? Berkoff gave this to you? That better not mean what I think it means."

"No." Nikita looked down at her fingers and started playing with the hem of her shirt. "At least, I hope not."

Jack came back out, holding a few tools, and glared at her. "What do you mean, you 'hope not'? Don't you think you ought to *know*?"

She bit her lip. "I ought to, but I don't."

Jack looked at her for a second, then went back to the work bench. "Ok, well, if you come back in about a half hour, I'll have this fixed."

"Would it be ok if I wait? I need some advice."

Jack turned his back to her so she couldn't see his smile. "You're always welcome here, Nikki*."

** Berkoff studied the man who was obviously supposed to fix the bracelet. The guy was in a room that looked like a odd contortion of Walters area in Section. Guns and electronics right alongside swords and knives.

Interesting.

Berkoff ran the picture through the computer. Nothing came up. The guy wasn't in the system at all.

Berkoff leaned back finished his coffee.

This is making less and less sense.

__________________ * Nikki: Affectionate term for Nikita - Jack's use only.

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

Chapter sixty ___________

"There are three missions underway, all going as predicted." Michael handed a sim pad to Operations and waited.

"Yes, you did very well. Madeline?" He turned and smiled. "Where are we in Sima?"

Madeline shook her head. "I'm not sure. Let me check." She left the room.

Operations waited for her to leave. "We need to talk."

Michael nodded and glanced out the windows. "Where would you like to start?"

"With an apology."

Michael didn't react.

"I wish someone could have told me that the two of you were Circle, though, as I understand it, you didn't know when you came to Section."

"Nikita brought me in."

Operations nodded, though Michael couldn't see it. "I've been told. But you both were in when we...I wish someone had said something. If you didn't know, she did." He stood beside Michael and watched Birkoff decoding a message from Oversight. "But no one said anything, and as my sister is found of saying, 'If wishes were fishes then beggars would eat.' So...we have to go from here."

Michael finally turned his head. "Do you understand why Madeline can't know?"

Operations nodded. "I do. I'm not happy with it, but then, since I decided to work with the Sections, I've rarely been happy." He frowned and lowered his voice, as if he were really only talking to himself. "Sometimes I wonder if it was the right thing to do."

Michael looked back out the window. He thought for a moment, but decided against saying anything.

There really *was* nothing to say to that.

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

Chapter sixty-one ___________

"When do you leave for Oversight?"

Madeline didn't look up from her computer. "Two days."

Operations nodded. He was looking over a mission profile on a pad. He'd read it already, but, even after only a week at the caves, he was finding himself falling into old patterns.

"So, if I may ask...what do you do there?" He couldn't help it. Knowing she was at the caves for these trips was...

It was something. And Paul felt the need to tease her about it.

"Do?" Madeline looked up. Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"At Oversight. What does George have you doing?"

Madeline smiled and her face relaxed. "You know I can't tell you that."

He smiled.

Good Girl

"Had to try." Operations stood up and came around her desk. "What are you doing now?" His hands dropped unnoticed to her shoulders.

"Berkoff is doing odd things to the system lately. I'm just checking up on him."

"Odd things?"

She tilted her screen so he could see. "He's planted new monitoring programs in the main computer, and he's checking everything that goes in and out."

"He's keeping tabs on everything?"

"Yes."

"Where is that feed coming from?" Operations pointed on the screen.

"Somewhere...somewhere in the Atlantic."

Paul cringed.

The Island. He's got a feed from the island.

"I'll see you later."

Madeline didn't even look up when he left.

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

Chapter sixty-two ___________

"He has a feed from the *Island*?" Lalia's voice came through the locket, and it was a good thing it was so expressive. Paul could barely see her face in this thing.

"Apparently. Video, no audio, and I have no idea how."

He barely caught the mumbled reply. "Great, just great." Lalia turned her head to say something to an assistant then turned back. "Ok, I don't suppose you have any great ideas for getting rid of this feed?"

"I have a few, but I'm fairly certain that they don't meet with Circle approval."

Lalia raised an eyebrow. "My god, are you actually asking your little sister for permission? I think I might faint. Someone get me some water!"

"Ha ha." Paul closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. "I can only think of a few ways to stop Berkoff from doing this, and they're all Section type methods. I'm pretty sure you'd hate them a lot."

"Right." She bit her lip. "Ok, well..." Sighing, Lalia picked up a cup of something at the other end of the connection and took a sip. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? Right."

Paul knew that tone. She was having an argument with herself out loud. Dad used to do that too...

She sighed again. "Right. Ok, go for it."

Both his eyebrows shot up a that. "Are you sure?"

Lalia nodded. "But if you hurt him..."

"I wouldn't. You know that."

"Right. So...do whatever it is you think you can do. Just..."

"Be careful? Lalia, you know damn well I'd never hurt your son."

Lalia smiled. "I know."

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

Chapter sixty-three ___________

"Nikki?" Jack waved a hand in front of Nikita's face.

"Wha-? What? Jack? What?"

He smiled. "Zoned out a little, did ya?"

She grinned back. "Sorry."

"No problem. I got your bracelet fixed."

She took it and put it back on. "Thanks." She didn't move to get up.

"Still not sure, huh?"

She bit her lip. "What would you do?"

"What would I do? Interesting question. I've never been brainwashed by a man who claims to love me like a daughter...at least I hope not, being a man." He'd hoped to get a laugh from that but none came. "So...I'm probably not the person to talk to. You might ask Kryn."

"If she can tear herself away from Niscia for five minutes."

"Niscia's in Jamaica for the week."

"Why?"

"Some kind of conference. Kryn stayed. Go talk to her."

"Right. Go talk to her." She still didn't get up.

"Nikki?" Jack crouched in front of her chair and took her hand. "You have to make this decision. And you can't do it in your current state of mind."

"I know. I just haven't really talked to anyone but Lalia and you since I got back, and...and." She sighed. "And, I'm not sure....I'm nervous."

"You afraid no one missed you? I really don't remember you being this insecure."

Nikita shook her head. "No, not that. I'm just thinking that no one really needs me anymore."

"Ah." He looked down at her hands. Then he looked up at her. Reaching out, he caught her chin and made her look into his eyes.

"That, my dear, is possibly the stupidest thing you have ever said."

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

Chapter sixty-four ___________

"Berkoff." Michael didn't stop to answer questions. He simply grabbed Berkoff's arm and led the young man to Michael's office.

After sitting him in a chair and soundproofing the room, Michael knelt and stared into the tec's eyes.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"What?"

"I asked if you are trying to get yourself killed." Michael stood and walked around his desk. He called something up on his computer and swiveled the screen to face Berkoff. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Berkoff glanced at the screen and then back at Michael. "What makes you think there's something wrong with *me*?"

"This is not exactly a safe way to live." Michael gestured at the screen, showing the feed from Nikita's bracelet.

"What isn't? Her or me?" Berkoff clenched his fists around the arms of the chair in an effort to calm down. Michael ignored it.

"You."

"And why is that?"

Michael walked around and sat down behind his desk.

"Berkoff, this is Section. I think you can figure that out for yourself."

"I just want to know what's going on. I think I have a right to know." Berkoff's fists tightened around the arms of the chair.

"Do you?"

"Yes!" The shout echoed in the small room.

And the arms on the metal chair broke off

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

Chapter sixty-five ___________

Paul watched as Berkoff finally woke up.

"What happened?"

Operations looked down at a pad. "You contracted a planted virus on a mission. Do you remember anything?"

Berkoff scrunched his face and closed his eyes. "I remember the Red Cell incident." He was careful with what he said, not wanting to get Walter in trouble.

"With the directory?"

Berkoff nodded. Operations nodded back.

"That was four months ago. The doctors say that your memory may or may not come back. I'll make sure that you are updated on all current missions."

Berkoff nodded again, trying to search his memory for the missing time.

Operations stood to leave, but turned back before reaching the door. "You will need to get used to the new computer system again."

"New system?"

"Yes. In place for a few months now. Newer technology. Less susceptible to hackers."

Berkoff nodded again.

"Do you feel that you can work?"

"Yes."

"Good." Operations left.

And Berkoff sat in the bed with a new computer, familiarizing himself with the new system and hardware.

"Nice. But I wish I could remember picking out a new laptop."

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