Disclaimer: The characters from La Femme Nikita don't belong to me. Don't sue. All you'll get is this computer, and it's obsolete anyway. All of the other characters are my own. I don't steal...my stuff's better than what you'd come up with anyway. :-)

Note: Fourth in the "Circle of the Gifted" Series. Sequel to "Elemental, My dear Section", "Twisted Shakespeare" and "Don't Look Down". The first was set during the time Michael and Nikita are together, compliments of Michael's leverage over Operations with Adrian. It splits off from there. You might want to read the first three before reading this.

*italics*

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Chapter one (Kinda short - Mission) ___________

A loud explosion sounded.

Michael looked up and glanced to his right into the dark, but no expression crossed his face. He waited a few seconds and then turned back to his panel.

A second explosion was heard, and the concrete tunnel shook.

Michael's panel blinked green twice, and the bare light bulb above his head dimmed, then died. A voice came from the small metal dot behind his ear.

"You're clear!"

Michael hit a glow rod, and headed down the tunnel to his left. Shouts and gunfire were heard behind him.

The door at the end of the passage was locked by a voltage-charged keypad, but that was the point of blowing the power. Michael blew the handle off with a plastic explosive and hit the inside wall. Shots went past his head, fired by the automatic security system in place. Michael slipped his "members" card into a slot, and the shots ceased. A gate opened to an inner room.

The little girl was balled up in the corner, covered in dirt and crying for her mommy.

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

Chapter two ___________

"Her name is Naomi."

Operations thumbed his remote, and a child appeared on the briefing "screen". She was in a Section cell, playing with a doll.

"We retrieved her last night from a Red Cell detention center. She was only there for three hours, so we are hoping that she was not contaminated during her stay."

"She is an orphan. Her parents were killed in a car accident, and she was kidnapped by Red Cell from the foster home. She is five years old."

Operations changed the view, and now a young boy was on the screen, bouncing a tennis ball against a cell wall.

"This is Trent. His parents were killed in a skiing accident. Red Cell only had him for two hours."

"Naomi and Trent are part of a Red Cell initiative, to see if children's IQ's are affected by their upbringing. If they were, that was to be used in...other ways. As opposed to other concepts we've seen before, this time the plan was to raise them in nurturing homes, and see if they could not be made, eventually, to be both brilliant, and yet still do whatever they were told."

Nikita looked up from her pad. "Did we take them to stop the project?"

"No, we took them to steal the project."

Nikita's eyes narrowed.

"With one large difference. We are not going to raise them to adulthood. We are going to see if we can't improve their IQ's within a few months. The children will not be harmed, they are for study only." Operations smiled at her. "We already have permanent parents ready and waiting to take these children in when we are through."

"Through using them, you mean." Nikita dropped her pad in her lap and looked away.

"Yes." Operations caught her eye. "And Nikita, I'm sure you'll make a fine mother."

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

Chapter three ___________

Operations turned the screen off. "There will be two couples, one for each child. We don't believe that either is ready for an emotional bond yet with a "brother" or "sister". The couples will appear to be in love, for a show of stability. Also, there is a chance that if all goes well, in nine months, the children will go to their permanent homes, and as they are so young, they may never remember that this happened."

"As I said, there will be two couples. Both will continue to function regularly inside Section, though all overly dangerous missions will be assigned to others." He smiled. "Where applicable, anyway. Michael, you will be with Madeline. Nikita...you will be with me. The children will be going home with us tonight, after individual briefings. Berkoff has your pads. That's all."

Nikita didn't move. She was being teamed with Operations?? She couldn't quite get her head wrapped around that...

She finally stood when Michael took her hand, and they followed Operations into his office. He motioned for them to wait while he tinted the windows.

"I thought you two would like to know the reasoning behind the pairings." He paused and glanced at Nikita. She just stared back.

"I cannot be teamed with Madeline for this project for the simple reason that we must all be able to reach the Island. Since Madeline cannot know about my involvement with the Circle, we certainly can't be sharing a home." He didn't add that he wanted time to work with Nikita.

Michael nodded. "That is the best solution." He walked to the window and watched Berkoff at com. Abruptly changing subjects, Michael gestured towards the tec. "What does he remember?"

Operations joined him at the window. "He remembers the cave with Walter, and, according to Lalia, a visit from her. But it seems that he believes the story she gave that morning, and still thinks that he and Walter got around Section rules. He doesn't remember any of his discoveries about the Island or 'Section 11'. So, we seem to be safe there."

Nikita leaned against the back wall and watched the two men talking. Her next comment was so quiet neither heard her.

"For now."

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

Chapter four ___________

"Naomi, you have to get up now. We're here."

Nikita smiled at the little girl in her lap and shook her again. Slowly Naomi's eyes opened, and she blinked.

"We're here? Here where?"

Nikita smiled again. "Home." She looked up at Paul who picked the child up and carried her into the house. Slowly, Nikita got out of the car and stretched, subtly taking stock of her surroundings. Quiet neighborhood, tree lined divider running down the middle of the street which blocked the view of the opposite side. Gates around each front yard, and large privacy bushes, reaching just below the roofs. Spacious plots of land. Very private, secluded and expensive.

And a pain in the ass to defend. From inside, you wouldn't be able to see a damn thing.

Nikita mentally scowled at the street and went inside, still paying close attention.

They had a smaller yard than the other houses, almost cramped in comparison. One tree set up with a porch swing. The front doors were oak with small stained glass windows. The door was standing open, waiting for her, her bags left just inside by the driver who'd brought them. Nikita could see right through from foyer and living room to the backyard, which made up for what the front lacked. The French doors leading out to the back porch were standing open as well, and lantern-like lamps stood up out of the grass. She hung her coat up on the rack by the front door and glanced to her right, taking note of the study. Just before the entrance to the living room was the door to the kitchen, off the foyer, opposite the stairs leading to the second and third floors.

Very subtle and cultured, perfect for Mozart and Shakespeare...and raising a child's IQ.

Sighing, Nikita followed the sound of voices up the stairs and stopped outside a child's bedroom.

The walls were done in a subtle cloud design and the room was filled with stuffed animals, a computer, books (though not children's) and educational toys. Toys designed, Nikita noted, for kids a few years older than Naomi.

She watched Paul tuck the little girl into bed and smooth the dark hair off her face. He really looked like a father. Then he turned to Nikita and followed her out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind them.

"So. Now what?"

"It's eight p.m., and neither of us has eaten since we left. How about dinner?"

Nikita nodded and followed him downstairs, stopping to glance into her bedroom. Apparently, being married didn't mean sleeping together.

Thank god.

Checking her watch as she went, Nikita started to relax. In fifteen hours she'd be heading for the Caverns.

Not soon enough, if you ask me.

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

Chapter five ___________

Michael watched Madeline as she read to the small boy. He was snuggled into the covers, his head just peeping above the thick comforter.

It was uncomfortably familiar.

Trent looked up at him and smiled. Michael smiled back and then headed downstairs. He wasn't sure what he needed downstairs, but he knew that another minute in that room, and he wouldn't be objective.

Fifteen minutes later, Madeline joined him in the living room.

"How is he?"

"Sleeping."

Michael nodded. "Sleeping arrangements?"

"You want the far room or the master?"

"You take the master, it's closer to Trent's room. Operations and Nikita...?"

"Same deal." Michael smiled slightly. "Your jealousy didn't used to be this transparent, Michael."

"The Caverns change us all in different ways. Speaking of...when is your next trip to the caverns?"

Madeline closed her eyes. "Tomorrow morning. Nikita and I are going together. Lalia has something she wants to talk about."

"You're going with Nikita?"

"Yes."

He turned to face her. "I need a favor."

She just nodded, waiting.

"Keep Jack away from Nikita."

Madeline turned and stared into Michael's eyes for a minute. Then she nodded.

"Consider it done."

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

Chapter six ___________

"What??" Lalia finally dropped the report she'd been reading and stared at Nikita. "Say that again."

"I'm supposed to pretend to be Paul's wife."

The corners of Lalia's mouth quirked and she closed her eyes. Her face started to turn red and suddenly she collapsed in a fit of giggles, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, that's precious. Just think how uncomfortable that'll be for him!"

"Him? What about me?" Nikita frowned and crossed her arms.

"No, no. It...it makes sense, but..." Lalia took a deep breath and tried to stop laughing. "But, see, he thinks of you more as a protector would. Obviously, this was set up so he could try and make everything up to you, but if this was the only way he could think of to do it..." She started to laugh again.

"Wait.." Nikita's mouth turned to a small, amused smile. "He assigned me to be his wife, so he could show me that he thinks of me as a daughter?"

"You see why *I* got this job?"

"Well, it makes some sense, I suppose."

"He wants to spend some time with you, uninterrupted. To explain and, I'm guessing, to heal some old wounds. He probably could have picked a better way, but, as I understand it, this mission was there anyway. He was gonna have to have two couples. So..." Lalia frowned. "What exactly *is* this mission?"

Nikita's face darkened, and her voice held a sarcastically cheerful quality to it. "We're running an experiment to see if we can't increase a child's IQ by manipulating their environment."

"What. Did. You. Say?"

Nikita jumped and her eyes snapped to Lalia's face.

Which held pure anger.

She continued in a slightly less hostile tone. "Two couples will each raise a child for a few months and try to increase their IQ's."

"Using what means?" Her tone didn't change one iota.

"I'm not sure. So far I've noticed the obvious things laying around the house. Classical music, educational toys, books set just above the normal reading level..." Her voice trailed off at Lalia's expression.

"Nikita, could you please excuse me? I have some work to do."

Nikita nodded and left.

Lalia waited until the door had closed before she pulled out her keys and called down for someone to pull out her boat.

I'm going to kill him.

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

Chapter seven ___________

"Jack?" Madeline set her bag down on a chair and started wandering around the training room. "Jack? You here?"

There was a crash from the back of the storage area and Jack came out, hands covered in grease.

"What can I do for you, Madeline?"

"Nothing. I just thought we ought to get to know each other better." She smiled and sank into a chair. "Nikita says she's known you all her life."

"Since she first came to the Caverns, yeah."

"So, you taught her how to use her magic?"

Ok. Moment of truth. Lets see what he's got.

Jack smiled and shook his head. "No. No, Nikita had special training. Lalia taught her most of her magic. I only trained Nikita for the first few years."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Lalia set aside a lot of other stuff to train Nikita. She was...kind of obsessive about it. Nikita was going to learn everything about magic, and Lalia didn't want programmed lessons to get in the way of that. After Nikita's sixteenth birthday, she never saw the inside of this training room. Lalia had her working in her private gym upstairs."

Madeline's brow wrinkled. "Lalia has a private gym?"

"Yeah, it's up two levels. Her Father, the Founder of the Circle, taught her magic up there. Not so much a gym as a specialty training room, I guess. I've never been in there. Only Lalia and her brother were trained in it before Nikita. No one else is even permitted on that floor. The stairs and elevators don't go there. It's kind of a halfway floor? Stuck between, and off to the side." Jack smiled. "So, why did you want to know? If you want to know how to do something...well, I don't know what they can do. That's kinda the point, I guess. Nikita was trained, I think, to take over in case something happens to Lalia."

"Wait, but...you said a brother?"

"Oh. Him." Jack stood up and headed for the work table, shifting things around. Madeline raised an eyebrow at that.

"He...left the circle when the Founders were killed and Lalia was left command. Didn't take it too well. They hadn't really talked since then, not until recently."

"Why was Lalia left command and not him? What happened recently?"

"One question at a time, little girl." Jack turned around and smiled, perching on the end of the table. "She was left in charge because her brother was purposely a disappointment. Until Lalia was born, anyway. He liked to pretend that he didn't care. Then Lalia was born and....the two were really close. I mean, *really* close. When he left after their parents died, she took it really hard."

"So, what happened recently?"

"That's a story I really don't have time to tell you." Jack smiled again. "I have way too much to do, and I've stalled long enough by chatting with you." He glanced at the clock. "Besides, don't you want lunch? Serge will stop serving it soon."

Madeline smiled at Jack and left, heading for the dinning room.

That was an obvious evasion. He's hundreds of years old...you'd think he'd be better at that.

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

Chapter eight ___________

"Paul! PAUL!"

Operations came through the French doors in back holding Naomi who was wearing a swimsuit. They'd been in the pool out back and were both dripping wet.

The banging on the front door had been loud enough to hear underwater.

"Paul, you have two minutes to open this door or I'm going to remove it, ENTIRELY!"

Operations stopped halfway across the living room when he recognized the voice. He set Naomi down and told her to run upstairs and wait in her bedroom.

The last thing he needed was to give Lalia more ammunition.

"Lalia. What brings you here?"

"*What brings me here*?!"

He winced at her voice , suddenly remembering how much like their father she could sound. He started to say something, but she wasn't done.

"Gee, I don't know. Perhaps it was the idea that you're manipulating little children. Or, it might be the concept of you experimenting on human beings too young to give consent. Not that you bothered to ask in the first place. How about the idea that you might be destroying these kids for life? Take your pick." She brushed past him and closed the door behind her. Walking over to the doorway separating the stud from the Foyer she leaned against the jamb and glared at him. "Please note," she raised both eyebrows "that I haven't even mentioned the fact that this is against every ethical rule. *Every* ethical rule." Lalia waited for Paul to face her before finishing. "I think we need to talk. What do you think, *dear brother*?"

Paul met her gaze for a minute before turning and starting up the stairs. "I'll be right down. I have to change and check on the child." He stopped mid step and looked down at her. "You don't want me to just leave her up there, alone, without checking on her?"

Lalia glared at him but nodded imperceptibly. He flashed a cold smile back and ran the rest of the way up. Lalia watched him disappear before she pushed off the door jamb and walked to the kitchen. She set the coffee maker for a full pot and plugged it in. This was going to be a long night.

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

Chapter nine ___________

Meren stumbled on a protruding tree root but recovered quickly. He didn't glance behind him as machine gun fire whipped past his head. After centuries of warfare, he knew better.

Plus, he could simply feel them. They were following. No need to look.

There's the river. Three meters, maybe four. You can make it.

He smiled to himself as he ran.

Nice vacation, wasn't it?

Yeah, right.

Two meters.

A bomb went off under his feet, but the ballistics expert just rolled with it, flipping back up and sprinting the last few steps to the water.

He leapt in, relaxed his body and focused, forcing his weight to sink the sixty-odd meters down. He hit bottom and opened his eyes, looking up.

Nothing.

Maybe they're gone. Right. And pigs fly.

If he wasn't underwater he'd have laughed. The founders used to do just that as an orientation for the newer Saviors. He'd seen it.

Meren blinked twice and slowly turned until he was facing the opposite shore.

With the distortion, that's six kilometers. I can make that.

He focused again, forcing the water in front of him to separate into oxygen particles, creating an air bubble in front of his face.

And you thought all those underwater survival training sessions would never come in handy, since I 'so rarely leave the caverns'. Ha! Take that, Kryn, you bitch!

The thought was accompanied by a wry smile. At this point, he'd have just as soon not been proven right.

When I get back, I'm going to kill Jack!

Meren continued to dodge bullets until he was halfway across the river.

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

Chapter ten ___________

"Niscia, I'm tired of cleaning up your messes! Learn to wash a dish!"

Nikita closed her eyes and shook the laughter off before knocking. They could probably hear Kryn three floors up.

Same old temper.

The door swung open to reveal a truly pissed-looking Niscia. She glared at Nikita, shot an obscenity at back at Kryn and stormed past.

"Trouble in hell?"

Kryn glared at Nikita and slammed to door behind her as she walked in. The room was spotless except for the stack of unwashed dishes in the kitchen that, presumably, started the fight.

Kryn flashed an evil smile as she flopped onto the couch. "She'll be back in less than an hour. And she'll do the dishes."

"I don't want to know." Nikita sank into an overstuffed chair, her back to the kitchen.

"Then what *do* you want?"

Nikita gave her a wounded look. "I'm not welcome? Fine, I'll leave." She made a move to get up.

"No." Kryn sighed. "Ok. Sorry. Give me a minute." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She sighed again and opened her eyes. "So. What's up?"

"Just wanted to talk." Nikita looked down and started fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. Suddenly she stopped and closed her eyes.

Just do it.

"Do you know why Michael wants me to avoid Jack?"

Kryn's eyes shot up. "What?!"

** "Madeline." Michael smiled at the face in the locket. "What's up?"

Madeline shifted on the couch in her living room in the caverns, tucking her legs underneath her. "Do you know who trained Nikita?"

Michael's face darkened and he nodded. "Yes."

"When did she tell you?"

"Why?"

Madeline's eyebrows lifted. "I think it's important. Where and when?"

He frowned at her. "Ok, we were in her room. It was just after I first noticed Jack avoiding me. She told me that she'd known him since she first got to the caverns, that he trained her, and that's why they're so close. Why?"

"Oh." Madeline pursed her lips. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this...this isn't Section. Something tells me that I'm really not even supposed to know."

"Madeline." He raised his eyebrows.

"Right." Madeline took a deep breath. "Ok. Jack stopped training Nikita when she turned sixteen. After that, Lalia trained her." She closed her eyes. "She was trained to be a backup for Lalia...to take over the Circle."

At that moment, Trent came into the living room rubbing his eyes and asking for water, and Michael dropped the locket.

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

Chapter eleven ___________

Paul came back downstairs to find Lalia sitting cross-legged on the coffee table in the living room holding a cup of coffee. A tray with another mug and a full pot along with all the accessories sat next to her.

He sat down on the couch opposite her and took the mug she held out. The coffee was just the way he liked it.

"So."

He looked at her and closed his eyes. This was not a conversation he'd been looking forward to.

"So."

"Ok. Let's just start at the beginning. I'll ask the first question. 'Paul, what exactly is it that you're doing?'" The sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"We are attempting, using outside stimulation, to raise these children's IQ levels." He kept his voice clinical and steady. Passion and excitement for the project would only get him into trouble at this point.

"'Outside stimulation.'" Lalia studied his face. "And what, exactly, does that entail? Straight answer, Paul."

Straight answer. Right. Shit.

Paul grimaced. "We bombard the child with anything advanced. Books, music, ideas, mathematics. We take wherever the child's understanding is, and start a level higher. Then we simply increase the rate of input."

"Try again. In simple, everyday, 'I'm talking to a really dumb five year old' terms."

"We play classical music, read Shakespeare, force algebra, and talk politics until the kid understands what we're talking about. Then we move a level up and start over." He risked a glance at her face, then wished he hadn't. It was *definitely* times like these that he remembered how much like their father Lalia could be.

"I see." She continued to look at him while he looked into his coffee cup.

They sat there for a few minutes. When she didn't say anything, Paul started playing with the handle to his mug. And then he suddenly felt the need to fill the silence.

"Ok." Simple. Non-committal.

At least, that's what he thought.

"No, Paul. Right now, you wouldn't believe how ok I'm not."

He closed his eyes.

"But I really can't stop you, can I?"

Paul's eyes popped open and he raised his head to look at her, but she was gone. He turned around to see Lalia grabbing her coat off the rack. She opened the front door and stopped in the doorway too look back.

"Don't call me until this is over. I can't trust myself to be civil."

He winced when the door slammed, rattling the windows.

"Daddy?"

Paul glanced through the foyer at the stairs. Naomi was at the bottom step in her footie pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

"Who was that?"

Already calling me 'daddy'.

Paul closed his eyes again.

I hate it when she's right.

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

Chapter twelve ___________

"Where to, Senior?" The heavily accented driver stumbled over the English, obviously not used to using it.

I hate Brazil.

Meren decided to do them both a favor and gave him directions to his hotel in Spanish, though he was fairly certain that his Spanish was worse than the driver's English.

When they got there, Meren made a mad dash for his room, packing in record time. He wanted out of there, *now*.

Packed, he slammed the room door and took the stairs down, not willing to wait for the elevator. He tossed the room key on the front desk as he passed and jumped back into the waiting cab, already giving instructions to head for the airport.

Time to go. Hell, it was time to go three weeks ago, but *no*, I have to be the idiot and just hang around, *waiting* for someone to figure out who took their precious timer. What the hell is wrong with me? I could be home, right now, in my bed, J'net rubbing my feet....

He was literally slammed out of his reverie by the car behind them. Meren turned and swore when he saw who was driving the other car.

I thought I lost him!

Without waiting for his own driver, Meren kicked his door open and started running, duffel over his shoulder. Weaving in and out of traffic, he grabbed the back of a passing pickup truck and heaved himself into the cargo area, dropping flat so he wouldn't be seen.

It didn't work.

Three minutes later Meren rolled out of the wrecked vehicle and ran again, not bothering to look back and see if anyone was hurt in the broadside collision.

And ten minutes later he was arguing with an attendant at the small village airport who spoke some dialect he'd never even *heard* of.

I really, really hate Brazil.

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

Chapter thirteen ___________

"I still say it's weapon envy."

Three hours later and most of a bottle of tequila, Nikita and Kryn were sitting on the floor playing poker. Neither had come up with any reason Michael would be angry at Jack. At least, not any serious reasons.

"That's ridiculous." Nikita picked up the deck and dealt Kryn two cards, taking three for herself. "Michael has guns. He has knives. He has at least one of every weapon possible, including, I'm sure, a rocket launcher."

Kryn raised an eyebrow. "Really? A rocket launcher? I'm afraid to ask."

"Then don't. Full house." Nikita put her cards down and groaned at Kryn's straight flush. She downed the shot between them and refilled it for the next game while Kryn shuffled.

"Ok, then let's look at this rationally." Kryn started to deal while Nikita gave her an odd look.

"Rationally? We've just finished a bottle of tequila, and *now* you want us to think rationally?"

Kryn shot her a deadpan look and pointed to the shot glass. "We haven't finished the bottle yet, and I have more, anyway. And yes, I do. Neither of us is drunk. We can think logically and rationally if we want to."

Nikita glowered. "What if I don't want to?" She reached out and snatched the shot, finishing it off. "I fold. And we've now finished the bottle. So, rational thought is not an option."

Kryn frowned at her and stretched over to the cabinet next to the couch, pulling out a new bottle. She thunked it down between them and re-dealt the hand. "Do you have a better idea?"

Nikita just picked up her cards.

"I didn't think so. So, what, exactly, did he say?"

"He said he didn't want me around Jack. He said to 'trust him'." Nikita shuffled her cards in her hand and put one down. "One."

Kryn dealt her one card and took two.

"That's all he said? Just to stay away from Jack and to trust him?"

"Yep."

"Nikita, he thinks Jack wants you." Kryn smiled to herself and folded her cards back together.

"What?" Nikita's mouth turned down and she glared at the other woman over her cards. "That's stupid."

"Is it?" Kryn watched as Nikita put down a flush. She smiled to herself again and put down a royal straight flush. "I still win."

Nikita stared at the cards for a minute before picking up the bottle. She took a very long drink.

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

Chapter fourteen ___________

Madeline sank into a plush chair and reflected for the thousandth time how luxurious the Caverns were, and how uncomfortable Section was in comparison. She smoothed her hands over the find silk table cloth before accepting the leather-bound menu from the waiter.

And stared at the crest.

How did I never see that before?

Madeline traced her finger over the embossed crest of the Circle, elegantly imprinted on the front of the menu. For some reason, she couldn't remember seeing it before.

Which was odd, since she knew, in the back of her mind, that it adorned almost every Circle-issue item.

Just never took the time to look, I suppose.

She knew it was usually referred to the 'Star of All Religion', but she had a feeling that if she asked, it would mean more.

Something to look into.

But not now. Now, we eat.

**

Nikita rolled over and stared at the intricate designs carved into the rock ceiling. "When did you have the rock carved?"

"Hmmm?" Kryn squinted at her from the couch and then turned on her back. "Oh, that. I don't remember."

"Interesting choice of patterns."

"Hmmm." Kryn's eyes were closed again.

"Kryn."

Nothing.

"Kryn!"

"What?!"

Nikita shifted onto her side and looked up from the floor at the woman on the couch. "I got sidetracked by the thing with Michael and didn't really ask you the main question I wanted to ask you last night."

Kryn rolled to face her. "You mean there's more?"

Nikita nodded and Kryn stood up. "Ok, we'll need more booze. C'mon, let's something off Serge."

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

Chapter fifteen ___________

"Well, what exactly does he want?"

Nikita bit her lip and squinted at Serge. Kryn had asked him to join them, so the three Saviors were sitting around the large table in the kitchen, drinking scotch and getting nowhere.

"That's the thing. I don't know. He...he assigned me to play his wife so we'd have time to smooth things out, I guess. But...I think he sees me more as a daughter, which..."

"Ok, but I don't think the roles are literal." Kryn frowned, and then her eyes widened. "Are they?"

"No. Separate rooms, blah, blah, blah. But, I don't know what it is he wants. I don't know what kind of relationship he's trying to create. And, while I'm not *mad* at him, I'm not sure I want to get really close."

Serge propped his head on one hand. "When you left," he raised his eyebrows and Nikita nodded. "When you left, you wanted to get to know him. I remember you said something about an uncle you never had."

Nikita nodded and held her glass to Kryn to be refilled. "Yes, but that was before he started playing God with my head."

"Wait." Kryn frowned and sent her a mock glare. "Didn't you say that the only other option was to kill you?" Nikita nodded again. "Ok, so, technically, didn't he save your life?" This time Nikita just glared. "What? He did, didn't he?"

"That isn't the point."

"Well, what *is* the point?" Serge took her hand. "If this is a purely emotional response, that's fine. There is not a person on earth that would not understand that. But if it isn't, we have to figure out what it is that's bothering you." He smiled sadly. "He's Lalia's brother, son of the founders. Normally I'd say to just write him off, but I don't think you can do that here. So..."

"Yeah." Nikita bit her lip. "I know. I have to figure out what I want to do."

"No."

Nikita moaned and dropped her head into her hands while Serge shot a flustered look at Kryn. "What?"

"No. You don't have to decide what you want to do. You have to find out what *he* wants to do, *then* decide if that's what you want *too*. But you can't make the first move. *He* hurt *you*. So, you let him move first." She smiled weakly. "Isn't that the rule anyway?"

Nikita giggled softly. " 'Never make the first move.' Yes, but I'm not sure it applies here."

Serge chuckled. "When in doubt."

" 'Read the instructions'?"

"Sounds right to me." Kryn knocked back the last of the scotch. "And we have now officially solved the problem."

This time Nikita chuckled.

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

Chapter sixteen ___________

(setting some scenes...)

Ok. Just do it. This is something you can do. You are *not* this sad!

Greg suppressed a laugh. He *was* this sad. Three times he'd stood in front of this door, ready to ask her, and three times he'd backed out and run from the building.

Fifteen minutes later he actually knocked. It might have had something to do with the fact that he now, after all this stalling, needed to use her restroom.

"Greg!"

Lalia's tired smile faded entirely a minute later when he still hadn't come in.

"You waiting for a formal invitation?"

"Sorry." He flashed a weak smile and followed her into the living room, then gestured into the bathroom beyond. She nodded and he disappeared after dropping his coat over a chair.

Lalia picked up the coat to put it on a hook and a small jewelry box fell out of the pocket. She took one look and closed her eyes before picking it up.

Then she opened it.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!"

**

"You have to get up. The lady from Westwood will be here soon. Don't you want to look nice for her?"

Michael tried not to think about what he was doing and just focus on getting Trent out of bed. The evaluator for the 'Gifted' school would be there soon, and the kid at lest had to be awake. Even if the visit was just for show.

"Trent!"

"I don't wanna." The voice was muffled by the layer of blankets he'd pulled over his head.

"Please?"

"No!"

Michael sighed. He didn't want to do this....

Quietly he reached under the blankets and to the boys abdomen.

And started tickling.

Five minutes later Trent was still rolling around on the bed, giggling.

"Ok, ok! I'll get up!"

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

Chapter seventeen ___________

Meren got off the plane and took a quick look round him. No familiar faces. At least that meant he wasn't still being followed.

He jogged towards the parking lot to reclaim his car but stopped halfway there. Cringing and reaching into his pocket, the old war horse pulled out his wallet and opened it.

Crap. Might as well have those little butterflies come flying out.

He sighed and went back to the building to find an ATM. After almost a year away, that car was going to cost a fortune to get back.

**

Why do they always have to *do* this?

Lalia dropped into a chair, the coat forgotten, and stared at the large diamond in her hand.

Just when it was going so well....

She sighed and, closing the box, set it on the coffee table, never taking her eyes off it. As if it was a snake and would bite her and she didn't want to give it a chance to sneak up.

I really hate engagement rings.

**

"Nikita?" Madeline knocked twice more before she gave up and headed to the training room.

Where the hell is she at nine thirty in the morning? I never even saw her at breakfast.

In an oversized black sweater and loose black sweatpants, Madeline blended perfectly with the rest of the Circle. Comfortable, but stylish. She got more than a few glances in the hallways. After the fifth man she'd never met smiled at her like she was family, Madeline reflected that she really ought to meet more of the Inner Circle.

Not knowing any names at all put her at a disadvantage, and if there was anything Madeline hated, it was being at a disadvantage.

** "Naomi." Paul knocked again and this time the little girl opened the door. She was wearing the pink sundress with white sandals he'd laid out for her, and her hair was pulled into a simple pony tail.

"You look very nice."

She smiled at him.

"Why don't you go downstairs and eat? Breakfast is on the table, and the man from the school will be here soon, ok?"

Naomi nodded and headed for the stairs, but when she got to the top she stopped and turned around.

"Aren't you coming, daddy?"

Paul winced. Then he sighed and nodded, following the child down the stairs.

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

Chapter eighteen ___________

Jack couldn't keep quiet anymore. He'd watched her for fifteen minutes now, and every time she connected she made him wince.

"Nikita, you tryin' to kill that thing?"

Nikita hit the punching bag with a left hook. "Why (punch) would (punch, punch, jab) you (spin kick) care? (punch, jab, kick, kick, kick, spin kick)"

Nikita's last kick unhooked the bag and sent it flying across the room. It hit the rock wall with a loud 'thud'.

"I'm less concerned about the bag and more about you. Though, if you keep this up, I'll have to re-do this room, and you know how much Lalia hates new equipment."

"Sorry."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Nikita glared at him. "I already talked about it. Now I have to burn off the booze."

Jack gave a light laugh. "Talked to Kryn, did you?"

"Yeah. About everything."

Nikita was on the treadmill jogging. Jack found himself making a very conscious effort to keep his eyes on her face and not other parts of her bouncing anatomy. "And...?"

"And, we are sticking with the 'rock rule'*."

"Can't say I blame you. What makes you think he'll move?"

Nikita glared at him again. "You mean, what makes me think he'll move *again*, right? I mean, putting us into a house together, this doesn't strike you as a move?"

"Good point." Jack hesitated, then decided finish. He looked down at his hands as he spoke. "But, I doubt that that situation will last all that long."

The movement on the treadmill stopped. Jack could hear her walking over. It was confirmed a minute later when she knelt in front of him, much as he had her on her last visit. The difference was, she wasn't reassuring.

In fact, she looked pissed.

"Explain that. Now."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed.

Wrong choice.

"Lalia went to see Paul. I think...." He cleared his throat. "Walter got the impression in Operations' last checkin that the mission may be going down in flames. Soon." He looked up. "By choice."

Nikita stared at him for a minute, then stood up. Without one word, she grabbed her towel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Jack winced when the swords by the door fell off their hooks.

Note to self: Never, ever, forget that Lalia raised that girl.

___________________

* 'rock rule' is the rule that no Savior can make the first move. It's refereed to as such, the way we refer to the 'golden rule'

Cavern, rock...get it?

:p

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

Chapter nineteen ___________

Michael sat through the interview with the school and tried to remain impassive, but he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the woman drive away and finally got Trent back into the house. The boy immediately took off for his bedroom, and Michael collapsed on the couch.

This mission was starting to hurt more than his heart. Sitting in that interview had hurt his head.

The answering machine had been set to silent answer during the interview and the blinking light finally worked it's way into Michael's head. He hit the play button on his way to the kitchen.

~ Beeep! ~ *Mike, it's me. The meeting at ten on Monday is being changed to tomorrow at three. Boss says you're required. Sorry, man!* ~ Beep! ~

'Mike, it's me.' That was Walter's call sign, but Michael would have recognized his voice anyway. The 'meeting' was the operative's next scheduled check-in to Section. They were supposed to check-in every Monday. The message told him to go in tomorrow.

Something was up.

**

"So. You found it." Greg sat down opposite Lalia and watched her stare at the ring. Not really the reaction he'd been hoping for.

"Yeah."

"Uhm...not the way I wanted to do this....but..."

"Don't."

Greg closed his eyes when she interrupted him. Trying to calm his breathing, he didn't speak. Just waited.

And with his eyes closed, the door slamming shut was rather unexpected.

**

"Where's Nikita? We go back today."

"I know. And I think she knows. She was just in here, pummeling out her problems."

Madeline stared at the punching bag Jack was loading onto a cart. It'd been hit so hard the seams burst.

"Nikita did that." It wasn't a question.

"Yep, that's our Nikki. She was upset about somthin', but I don't think even she knew what." Jack carted the bust bag away, calling back to Madeline over his shoulder. "There's a message for you on the main floor, by the way. Nikita already went to get hers. And your transport should be here in about three hours."

Madeline nodded at his back, but wasn't really paying attention. She just frowned at the floor where the stuffing from the bag still hadn't been cleaned up.

She had a pretty good idea what was bothering Nikita.

And she was talking to Jack about it.

Madeline raised n eyebrow at the empty room.

Michael won't like that.

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

Chapter twenty ___________

*"Paul."

Paul groaned and managed to pry his eyes open. He blinked a few times. She was still there.

"What?" He looked around. This *was* his room, so he hadn't fallen asleep in the common room or anything...

"Lalia, what are you doing in my bedroom at..." He glanced at his clock. "Six AM! God, Lalia! Don't you ever sleep?"

She giggled. "Nope. Come on. You promised to take me somewhere today, remember?"

Paul grinned up at his eight year old sister. He remembered the promise very well.

"Ok, let me just get up."

"No."

Paul glared. "Lalia..."

"No. You can't get up until you tell me where we're going. I mean it."

"Little girl, get off me." She was sitting sideways on his chest with her legs hanging off the side of the bed. Lalia shook her head.

"No. Not 'till you give."

"Uh huh, fine then. We won't go. I'm going back to sleep."

"PAUL!!" Lalia stood up and started shaking his shoulders. "Paul!"

One eyes opened. "Ha! Got you up, didn't I?"

Lalia stuck her hands on her hips, affecting a petulant child's pose. "That was sneaky!"

"Yeah, well, I'm a sneaky guy."*

**

"Hey Walter!"

"Sugar! When'd you get back?"

Nikita smiled and leaned forward on the table, resting on her elbows. She peered at the circuitry he was working on while she talked.

"Just now. I heard there was a meeting about the mission?"

Come on, Walter. If Lalia's being overprotective, you'd know, right?

"Yep." Walter put down the soldering iron. "I think we're scrubbing the mission."

Nikita stood back up and crossed her arms. "What? Why? Not that I'm upset...but, why?"

"Official version, or real?"

Now we're getting somewhere.

She raised her eyebrows. "Both."

"Right. Official version is that it turns out we don't have the manpower to spare you four for so long, and Operations doesn't want to trust this to lower level operatives."

"And the real reason is?"

"I hear Paul, son of Rayne and Seiren, got a visit from his sister who read him the riot act. Something about morals and children and free choice...oh, yes, and manipulating children's minds, I believe. She told him not to even talk to her until the mission is over."

"Oh...." Nikita dropped her arms and cocked her head. "Lalia yelled at Operations? Really?"

About the kids. Not me. Ok, I might have overreacted.

"Yep."

Suddenly it hit her. Lalia yelled. At Operations. Nikita looked up at the Aerie and frowned. "And he's still breathing?"

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

Chapter twenty-one ___________

Nikita flopped into a chair in Michael's office. "So, what happens to the kids?"

"Trent is going to a good home in Paris."

Nikita frowned. "Trent? What about Naomi?"

**

Paul glanced down at the little girl in his arms and smiled.

Fast asleep.

With no desire to get stuck in the snow, he started to walk faster. The cobblestones sounded hollow under his boots, and Paul kept checking Naomi to make sure he wasn't waking her up.

"Almost there, little one."

He looked ahead and couldn't stop the smile from coming when the large stone house came into view.

"There it is, Naomi." Then he glanced down again. She was still dead to the world. Paul chuckled.

Climbing the steps, he stared at the door for a minute before knocking.

"Who is it?"

"A nephew you haven't seen in a very long time."

The door opened.

"PAUL!" Christabel, sister of Seiren, moved to hug him, but stopped when she saw the bundle in his arms. "And who is this young lady?"

Paul smiled. "This is my daughter Naomi." He caught his aunt's eye. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take care of her for a while?"

Christabel looked back at him for a moment and then at Naomi.

Paul held his breath.

Finally, she smiled.

"Paul, there is nothing I would love more."

Just then Naomi woke up and blinked up at Paul.

"Daddy, are we there yet?"

Paul smiled. "Yes. We're here."

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

Chapter twenty-two ___________

"He hasn't sent a damn thing in weeks!"

Kryn sat with her elbow on her desk and her head propped on her hand, watching passively as Lalia paced the large cluttered office. She walked around the stacks of papers and books piled on the floor, hitting the back of every chair she passed.

"I want to know what the hell is going on with my son!"

Kryn wrinkled her nose as Lalia's foot came very close to a particularly large pile of file folders.

"I'm sure Walter would have sent something if there was something to tell you about. Or he would've used the lockets. What's that old saying? 'No news is good news'?"

Lalia shook her head but didn't stop pacing. "Oh no. Last I heard, Paul was going to do something about the way Berkoff was prying. We had a discussion, and I said he could do whatever it was he was going to do. Something Section-like. I haven't heard a word on him since." Lalia finally stopped moving and dropped into a chair in front of Kryn's desk. Propping her elbows on her knees, she put her hands over her face.

"I just know he's done something that he knows I'll hate. We had this discussion, but....I at least expected Walter to message me and tell me what happened!"

**

"Jack!!"

Meren dropped his bag just inside the door of the training room and glared daggers into the weapons racks.

"JACK!"

Jack came around a corner smiling. "Hey man, you're back! So, how'd...." He stopped walking when he looked up. Meren was dressed in torn fatigues with spots of dried blood on his arms and legs. Three or four days stubble was evident, along with a definite lack of showering.

"Uh...never mind. I don't think I want to know how it went."

Meren crossed his arms. "A year gone, and you don't even ask? Jack, old buddy, old pal, I'm hurt."

Jack tried to hide his smiled but it didn't work. "So sorry. But, as I recall, you did lose the bet..."

"Jack!"

"Well, you did. Did it never occur to you to ask *why* I didn't want to go myself *before* you took that bet?"

Meren glared for a minute, then, without one word, picked up his bag and stormed out.

The minute he was gone, Jack was on the floor laughing.

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

Chapter twenty-three ___________

Numb. I believe the word for how I feel right now is numb.

Lalia closed her eyes to clear her head, then opened them again.

The report was still there.

And it still said the same thing.

The conference in Jamaica was bombed by Freedom League fighters.

The conference in Jamaica with sixty-three Saviors in attendance.

Including one Inner Circle Savior.

Niscia.

Lalia put the report down and dropped her head into her hands.

The tears running down her cheeks didn't make a sound.

**

"Oh, Look. Home. I really, really missed you." Meren spoke to the door as he let himself into his apartment. Dropping his bag, he toed off his boots and headed straight for the master bedroom. He grabbed clean shorts from the dresser and went for the shower.

Fifteen minutes later he was still in the shower when his wife came back. He was totally out of it when she got into the shower behind him, and jumped a mile when she wrapped her arms around him.

"Jeez, J'net!" He turned and looked down at her. Then Meren raised an eyebrow. She was fully clothed.

"So sue me. You've been gone for a year. I couldn't wait."

**

"Ok. Today seems to be a sandwich day."

Jack raised an eyebrow in agreement at Kryn. There was indeed nothing on the lunch menu but sandwiches.

"Supposing someone wanted to keep kosher? All these sandwiches are meat and cheese."

Jack frowned. "Kryn, if there are Saviors keeping kosher, they aren't eating out of Serge's kitchen to begin with. He doesn't keep a kosher kitchen."

"What's that got to do with it?"

Jack sighed. "Never mind." He shook his head and put his menu down. Scanning for a waiter, he spotted Lalia standing in the doorway, staring at the back of Kryn's head in pain. He frowned at her and lifted her eyebrows. She shook her head and motioned him to follow her.

"Kryn, I'll be right back. Do me a favor and order me a meatloaf special, ok? On a hard roll."

"Got it."

Jack stood up and followed Lalia into the hall. Once there she handed him the report. Jack read it and closed his eyes.

"I'll be right back." He handed the report back to Lalia.

"Where are you going?"

"To cancel my lunch. I'm suddenly not hungry."

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

Chapter twenty-four ___________

Operations met Madeline as she got to bay doors and rode down with her into Section.

"How was your trip?"

Operations smiled. "It was fine." He turned her head to meet her eyes. "What have you heard about the Freedom League attack?"

"Not much. I thought we'd get more today."

The doors opened into Section and the two stepped out.

"We don't know what the target was?"

"No. It was just a conference. Nothing remarkable."

The entered comm and Madeline headed for her office. "I'll send it up as soon as we have it."

Operations smiled and looked up at his office.

He immediately lost his smile.

The emergency line Lalia had made him hook up was blinking red.

**

Berkoff looked back up at the Aerie. Operations had been pacing for fifteen minutes now and talking to someone on an independent unit around his neck. That was weird enough, but he kept shooting strange glances at Berkoff through the window.

Berkoff swiveled around and, ostentatiously, looked at his computer screen, while his eyes wandered over to Walter. *He'd* been packing up his equipment for the last ten minutes, as if he were planning on being gone for a while. He was clearing his area of all his personal projects, and closing all the 'renovations' he'd been working on.

There was something going on.

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

Chapter twenty-five ___________

"So, what will you tell George, hmm? That you'll just be gone for a month or so, no big deal?"

Paul frowned. The sarcasm was dripping from Lalia's voice. "No. We just won't tell him that the mission with the kids was scrubbed until I get back. He'll think I'm there."

On the small screen, Lalia raised her eyebrows. "And you'll explain this to Madeline, how? Oh, how about when you accidentally run into her in the caverns? Do you know how hard it'll be to keep her from knowing you're there? It's not like we can just not call her in. She's Inner Circle. We need her."

"So what's your idea? Just have me lead half the Circle from Section? You don't think that'll be slightly suspicious? Not to mention incredibly awkward. You try leading several hundred Gifted soldiers from a screen." Paul's face scrunched up. "Unless you don't need me to lead. In which case, this is all a moot point."

Lalia sighed. "You know as well as I do that I don't *need* you to lead. We handled this kind of stuff before without you when you were gone, just like you did when you were on your own before I was born. But it never works as well as it should. It's sloppy. There are too many Saviors for one person to handle, that's why it was Dad *and* Mom, that's why they had two kids. Two of us. Equals in battle. And...." She gave small smile, "It'd be nice to have my brother back as my equal, and me as his. Not to mention that if I have to do this by myself..."

"Right. Which brings us back to the original point. I guess we'll just have to make sure Madeline doesn't know I'm there." He smiled wryly. "So, I think it's safe to say she'll be in your half."

**

"Michael, you have to get up."

He didn't move. Nikita glared at his back. She walked over to her packed bag (essentials only) and picked it up. Then she walked back to the bed and dropped it on the floor next to his head.

That worked.

"What?" Michael rolled on his back and blinked, taking in her plain jeans, black T-shirt and packed bag. He sat up, suddenly awake. "What?"

"We've been recalled. We're moving in-house indefinitely."

Michael stood up and started dressing. "Section." It wasn't a question.

Nikita shook her head. "No. The Circle."

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

Chapter twenty-six ___________

"J'net!" Lalia jogged a bit to catch up with the younger woman. "Wait."

J'net stopped mid stride and turned around, never taking her eyes off what she was reading. "Yes?"

Lalia stopped in front of her and waited for her attention. After a minute, J'net got the message and looked up.

"Yes?"

Lalia raised an eyebrow. "Thank you." She smiled. "Ok, we should sit for this."

J'net eyed her warily. "That bad?"

"Yeah."

J'net followed Lalia to one of the numerous overstuffed couches lining the hallways. Lalia waited for the redhead to sit.

"Ok....you don't remember much before Section, do you?"

J'net shook her head. "No. Just...the hospital, then Section, then Paul sent me here." She bit her lip. "I haven't seen him since. I heard he was back....is he..."

Lalia smiled. "No, he's just been busy. He was planning on seeing you his next trip."

"'Was'."

"Yeah. Do you remember your sister at all?"

J'net frowned. "Not really. I remember I *have* a sister. Do I get bonus points for that?" They both chuckled.

Then Lalia sighed. "I'm going to say this, and you need to not jump up and run away."

"Ha ha. I haven't done that since my first year here. Just say it."

"You asked for it." Lalia took a deep breath. "Ok. Your sister is an Inner Circle Savior, and I need you not to tell her who you are when you see her." She glanced at J'net's face nd winced. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have had to bring it up normally, since you two would never meet, but everyone's being recalled, and you'll have to. And I know you'll recognize her aura....but for now, I need you to not tell her."

"Why not?"

Lalia made a face. "Because, really, she can't know that Paul knew you were here."

"Because...?"

Lalia leaned back and crossed her legs. "Because we need her focused. This would....no one has *that* much control over their emotions. We're kind of afraid of a nervous breakdown."

"Why would seeing me cause a breakdown?"

"Because Madeline thinks she killed you."

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

Chapter twenty-seven ___________

"We're being recalled to The Circle?" Michael finished packing his bag and joined Nikita in the kitchen. She handed him a cup of coffee.

"Yes. An Inner Circle Savior was killed."

"So we're being recalled?" Michael wrinkled his brow. It wasn't really that big a deal, was it?

Nikita sat down and stared into her coffee cup. "There hasn't been an Inner Circle who was killed for over a century."

"I see." Michael reached out a finger and lifted Nikita's chin. "You knew them?"

Nikita nodded. "So did you. It was Niscia."

Michael closed his eyes.

**

"What do we do bout Berkoff?"

Lalia frowned into her locket. She was walking down some hallway, Paul could see, but he wasn't sure which one. They all looked alike in the caverns.

"What do you mean, 'what do we do about Berkoff'?"

"I mean, we can't just leave him there. You're calling Walter in. There won't be anyone to watch him, and he could become a target."

"So what do you suggest? You wanna bring him with?"

"Yes."

"'YES'?!?"

**

"Meren? Honey? You in here?"

No answer.

Thank god.

J'net sank into the couch and dropped her head into her hands. She loved her husband, but right now, she needed time alone.

She was finally going to meet her sister.

Who thought she'd killed her.

And she couldn't say a thing.

On second thought, perhaps what I need is a drink.

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

Chapter twenty-eight ___________

"Ok, so at the very least, did you get it? Because with what's going on now, I'm going to need it."

Meren glared at Jack and dropped a small leather pouch onto the table. "I got it. Thank you, by the way, for the warning that there would be a nice tribe of priests waiting to kill me when I got outside."

Jack picked up the bag. "Oh, didn't I mention that?" He raised his eyebrows at his friend then opened the bag.

"Ah. Thank you."

Jack pulled out two simple-looking stone disks, one on top of the other, roped together through small holes in the middle.

"Oh. Good. I was wondering if those words would ever leave your mouth."

Jack glared, but Meren just smiled. "What?"

"Never mind. So, have you tested it?"

"No, that seemed like a bad idea since I was, at the time, being chased by several dozen men with guns."

"Oh." Jack held up the disks to the light a and small beams filtered through the pattern of punctures in the edges.

"Will it work?"

"One can only hope."

**

"If you bring him, you get to come up with an explanation for him." After three hours of arguing, Lalia's voice had a resigned note to it. Neither of them had been able to come up with a better solution. And they had certainly tried.

"I know." Paul bit his lip to which Lalia raised an eyebrow. "What will you tell Jack?"

"I don't know. Probably the truth. He's Inner Circle...and I owe it to him."

"You aren't worried?"

"About?"

"About how he'll react to seeing his son again."

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

Chapter twenty-nine ___________

Madeline had been trying for hours to get through to Lalia, but her locket was busy.

Leave it to Jack to use an actual 'busy signal' for these things.

She tapped her fingers on her desk and the re-read the message.

Still said the same thing. She sighed.

All Saviors, of all levels, were being re-called and moved in-house.

Of course, that didn't take into consideration that Section was bound to notice if she just took off for a few months.

Not to mention it's two best operatives.

And didn't she hear something about Walter being a Savior?

This was not good.

Madeline tried Lalia's locket again.

Still busy. Damn.

**

"Nikita, she's not going to answer. Get on the plane."

Nikita looked back at the door to the plane and smiled at Michael. She was standing in the middle of the runway trying to get through to Lalia on her locket.

So far, no luck.

"Just let me try one more time, ok?"

Michael nodded and disappeared into the plane.

Nikita opened her locket and entered Lalia into it.

Still no answer.

Damnit!

Sighing, Nikita put the chain back round her neck and headed back to the plane.

I'll try again when we land in Ireland.

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

Chapter thirty ___________

Greg rolled over and covered his face with a pillow, trying to ignore the pounding headache that was, apparently, still there.

Well, that's what you get when you drink an entire bottle of scotch.

Suddenly it registered that the pounding wasn't in his head but at his door.

He sat up and looked around his Circle apartment. He hadn't had the energy to go home, so he'd stayed here.

And someone was *still* pounding on his door.

Groaning, he got up and headed towards the front room. Reaching for the doorknob, he looked down to make sure he was indeed wearing boxer shorts, then opened the door.

"Lalia?"

"Hey." She squinted up at him. "I figured, when you weren't there when I got back, that you'd have gone home?"

Greg shook his head.

"You going to invite me in?"

He raised an eyebrow but stepped back so Lalia could enter. She walked past him then turned back around to face him and waited for him to close the door.

She took a deep breath. "Is that offer still open?"

Greg was immediately awake.

**

Michael took Nikita's hand when he got off the helicopter at the island.

He was immediately knocked off balance by a messenger running towards the other side of the field.

Nikita raised an eyebrow and looked around. The place resembled a military base more than an island retreat.

Which, really, it is. We just tend to forget that, don't we?

Michael pulled on her hand and she came back to attention.

"Right. Let's find Lalia."

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

Chapter thirty-one ___________

"Madeline. Madeline!"

Lalia sighed and ran a hand over her eyes. She couldn't seem to interrupt the other woman's diatribe.

"*Madeline!!*"

"What?"

"Thank you. Just stop." Lalia closed her eyes against the headache budding behind her eyes then opened them to glare at Madeline on the screen. "Look, not one thing you've brought up is an actual problem. We've been here for several centuries. You think we can't cover for you?" Madeline was silent. "Good. Then get your ass on the island. I'm sending a plane."

"But..."

"No. Just get here." Lalia closed her laptop, flopped onto the couch and looked around her empty office. She closed her eyes and covered them with her hands.

And felt the engagement ring. She opened her eyes and stared at it for a second.

Her locket started buzzing.

Lalia dropped her head onto the back of the couch, covered her face with a pillow and screamed.

**

Operations met Berkoff at the bay doors and handed him an overnight bag.

The Tec shifted his computer case to the other arm and shouldered the duffel. "Where are we going?"

"Not until we get out of Section." Operations glanced at his watch and threw an annoyed glare at the empty hallway. Presently, Walter came running down it, breathing hard.

"Ok, it was close, but I got it all."

"Walter, what's..."

Walter shot a look at Operations, busy at the control panel of the lift. "Later, man. Just trust me. Later."

Berkoff nodded. When the doors opened, the three men headed for a non-descript SUV parked across the street.

Berkoff stared at it a minute before getting in.

It wasn't Section issue.

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

Chapter thirty-two ___________

Jack finished his last training session and slammed the door behind him, exhausted. With the Freedom League situation, everything was moving faster, and training had been stepped up for all unfinished Saviors.

Sixty in one day. I believe that's a new record.

He ran a hand over his eyes and almost bumped into Lalia coming to talk to him.

"Sorry." Jack's eyes dropped to her hand.

He took a deep breath. Then another. Then he closed his eyes for a second to clear his head.

I'm hallucinating. It's really the only explanation.

But when he looked again, the ring was still there.

Did Hell freeze over while I wasn't looking?!

"Jack?"

"Sorry. Congratulations."

Lalia frowned. "What?" She followed his gaze. "Oh." She smile weakly. "Thank you. But that's not what I'm here about."

"Ok. Walk with me." Jack started back down the hallway and tried not to think about the engagement. Or the man she was engaged to, since it was obvious. Or the fact that it was Lalia, engaged. Or the fact that he was trying not to think about it, since he wasn't in love with her anymore, right? Right. He was in love with Nikita. Who Lalia did or did not marry was really none of his business.....

He stopped.

Great job not thinking about it, man.

Right.

Jack suddenly realized that Lalia was talking to him.

"...so, he's bringing him."

"Sorry....who's bringing who?"

Lalia sighed. "Do you ever even listen when I talk? Paul. Bringing Berkoff. Here. Tomorrow."

"WHAT?"

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

Chapter thirty-three (kinda short) ___________

Madeline got off the plane and headed straight for the caverns, for the first time completely missing the beauty of the island on the way.

She didn't even bother picking a rose.

Which would have been something to comment on if the place wasn't crawling with recalled Saviors. But it was. Swarming. The fields looked like an Army training camp, with squads of soldiers doing drills and target practice.

If it wasn't for the fact that they weren't using weapons, it wouldn't have been anything to stare at. But they weren't.

Using weapons.

Of any kind.

And things were blowing up or being shot left and right.

Madeline took a closer look at a squad just by her plane's takeoff. They were wearing uniforms.

She'd never seen a uniform once the entire time she'd been inside. But there they were. Plain dark-gray tank-tops with black, form-fitting utility cartridge-pants. The Circle Crest was the only marking on the cloth, resting half an inch above the hemline, to the left. The female version of the uniform top was only a half-top, and had thinner straps than the men's, but both were obviously of some soft, stretchy cotton. The pants, though skin tight, seemed very flexible, not at all hindering. Every female soldier had a silver armband on her left arm, with a black throwing knife held fast along the outside of the arm.

They were all doing some kind of magic drill. And there was not one that wasn't lethal.

This was a nation going to war.

Over one woman's death.

Madeline had a sudden need to sit down.