Chapter thirty-four ___________

Nikita stared at the Inner Circle uniform laying on her bed. It was exactly like the lower levels, only the top was a light blue-gray, and the Crest was done in silver thread, not black. The jacket was hung over the back of a chair, and was the same color as the top.

As she'd explained to Michael before he put his on and went for some last minute training with Meren, who just got back from wherever the hell he'd been, it wasn't that she didn't like the uniform. The uniform was fine. It was comfortable, even. Usually it was worn during any time spent in-house, but during a lull like they'd been having everything was much more casual.

No, it really wasn't the uniform.

It was everything attached to it.

This wasn't the uniform of a simple soldier, or of a Section operative. It wasn't even somewhere in between.

It was the uniform of a nation of warriors. She couldn't be the 'sweet Nikita' she was so comfortable as in this uniform. She was an Inner Circle Savior in it. A leader in battle and an elite soldier-at-arms. Part of a larger family. Attached to nothing but the Circle.

Which she was perfectly comfortable being. In fact, that feeling was just a bit *more* comfortable. It didn't require half as much effort, it just came naturally.

Which was what was making her nervous.

What if I can't come back from it this time?

**

"So, you're Michael." Meren looked over the young man in front of him. From what Lalia'd told him, Michael had stolen their little girl away.

Ok, so she's not *our* little girl, but still....

"Meren. Nice to meet you." Michael held out his hand and Meren shook it.

"Ok Michael, let's see what you've got.

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

Chapter thirty-five ___________

"Ok. We're out of Section. Operations is asleep. We're over 'uncharted waters'. Give, Walter!"

Walter sighed and turned to look at Berkoff. After debate, Operations had decided on the simple truth, and Lalia could yell at them both later. None of them were really willing to let him die just so he wouldn't know.

"Ok. We're going to an island off the coast of Ireland. It's an independent nation, centuries old. I can't tell you anything more than that besides the fact that we're going to war."

Berkoff stared. "I'm here, because?"

"You might be a target. We don't want you to get...dead. It's pretty much a given that you wouldn't really be safe. Remember when I told you that I'm supposed to take care of you?"

Berkoff eyed him warily. "Yeah."

"That's what I'm doing. So, just be quiet and try to stay out of everyone's way, ok?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

**

Jack sat down at breakfast and jumped right back into the conversation from the night before. "What are they telling him?"

Lalia looked up from her menu. "Who? What?"

"Berkoff. Paul. Here. Today? Telling him what?"

"Oh." She frowned. "I have no idea. Not clue one." Her eyes widened and the corner of her mouth twitched. "I forgot how good you look in that uniform."

Jack grinned back. "I never forgot how good *you* look." He glanced around the room. Six A.M. and the dining room was full, showing just how serious the situation was. Every Inner Circle member was here, all in full combat uniform. "Nice crowd."

"Almost makes me nostalgic."

Jack nodded. "Almost?"

"Yeah." She closed her eyes. "I was really enjoying the peace. You know what a conflict like this does to the Circle. Especially the Inner Circle."

"Sure. Everyone gets upset. We go out and remind the world that, just because they don't know us, doesn't mean we aren't here. Then, when it's all over...." He stopped and winced. "Oh."

"Yeah. We never get back to that nice, relaxed way of life do we? We're back to being a militant nation. Which is good. We need to be right now, but...I'll miss the quiet."

"Yeah?" Jack looked around again before his eyes caught Lalia's. "I'll miss Niscia."

Her expression turned hard. "Yes. There is that."

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

Chapter thirty-six ___________

J'net shrugged her jacket on over her uniform and jogged onto the field, but stopped about ten meters out and took a deep breath. This would be her first time leading a full attack squad.

Hell, this would be her first time actually leading, other than simple drills. She wasn't really sure if she was ready.

But she was Inner Circle. And Inner Circle Saviors lead. They never follow. So, she leads.

Right. Because you're just such a natural-born leader.

She took another deep breath, finished buttoning up her jacket and headed towards her squad.

One step at a time. Just take it one step at a time

**

Berkoff couldn't remember ever being quiet this confused, or quite this left out. He looked around the office, and almost wanted to pinch himself, just to make sure he was awake.

It was a large....well, it was a cave! But, not cold or damp...the plush carpet was a deep burgundy, the furniture was heavy wood and glass, the couches and chairs were overstuffed and comfortable, and there was plenty of light from a diffused source above them that he couldn't see. Everything was very expensive.

But what really got him wasn't the expense. Everything in Section was pretty damn expensive, too. But here...everything was comfortable.

It was a new experience.

Berkoff looked back to where Operations and Lalia were. They were arguing over a large map laid out on a light-table.

She was ...different. Berkoff remembered meeting her before, during the Red Cell Directory scare. She'd yelled at Walter....who'd seemed genuinely scared of her. That was odd in itself. But here she was again, arguing with Operations. With *Operations*.

The strangest thing about the whole situation, though, was that she seemed to be winning.

**

"You're leading a Recon Squad under Paul." Jack handed Michael a disk. "Everything is on there. Nikita will be under Lalia, so you two will have to make sure your movements aren't contradictory. Make sure you know where she is, and she knows where you are, got it?"

Michael nodded and slipped the disk into his Circle issue computer. They were set up differently than the Section computers, and he was still getting used to them, but he'd found that the programming was...easier. Simpler. More user friendly.

That *did* seem to be the norm around here.

"Where will Nikita be working?"

Jack consulted his own screen for a moment. "Paul's main people will be in the fourth common room, and Lalia's in the second, but all Recon for both halves will be in the third, where Lalia and Paul are setting themselves up, so that shouldn't be a problem. Recon and Strategies will both be there, actually." He smiled. "That'll start looking like an oversized situation room in about five hours, when we're all set up." His face darkened, and he gave Michael a long, hard look. "You understand what we're doing, right?"

"We're going to war."

"No."

Michael's brow furrowed. "No?"

"No." Jack looked back at his screen. "We're killing them all."

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

Chapter thirty-seven ___________

"The twenty-third is handling the distraction for the drop, but we need Freedom League's main stronghold to make the package worth delivering."

"We only need half the twenty-*second* for that! You're wasting resources that could be diverted to France."

"It has to go as smooth as silk. It can't be done by the seat of our pants! We need those people right where I have them."

"There aren't enough Saviors for us to pad stages like that. We need those people in France to take out the Contrium. If Freedom League gets their help before we get them *out*, this whole war is lost before it's started."

"Oh, please. Like the Contrium is any threat to us at all."

"They are if they can convince Jerardi to help, and we have no idea how sympathetic he is to their cause!"

"We can take *care* of Jerardi. That is not even an issue."

"Oh, right, like you took care of Mealiana?"

"Damnit, Paul, this is serious!"

"Yes, thank you for bringing that to my attention. It would never have crossed my mind before, but now that you've *said* it...! Lalia, this is a war! You are going to have to lose some people."

"This is not Section, Paul. Saviors are not expendable."

"I never said they were."

"Really? Coulda' fooled me."

"Look, if we divert the sixteenth over from Walkway...."

And on, and on, and on.....

Nikita was getting a headache. The buzz of the "war room" alone was really enough to cause that, but for some reason, she and Michael were set up right next to Lalia and Paul's area. Their arguments came in loud and clear, and never really stopped, even when they both agreed.

It was starting to make her eyes cross.

She glanced at Michael and wrinkled her nose. He was completely unaffected by the bickering. Hell, it was possible that if a gun went off in his ear, he wouldn't bat an eye. Whatever he was doing had his complete attention.

Nikita snuck a glance at his screen and her eyes widened. Michael was planning a Recon mission for the Contrium. She stifled a giggle.

The whole damn argument was for show. For the lower level Saviors still in the room.

Michael's mission was ordered by both Lalia and Paul.

The decision had been made last night.

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

Chapter thirty-eight ___________

"Walter, is anyone ever going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Berkoff shifted in his chair and watched them blow up yet another plastic explosive with what had to be some kind of hidden device. They'd been doing it for hours. Then one of the two men with Walter would go over and pick it up, examine the hole left behind it in the wooden prop and measure. Then they'd do it again.

And again.

And again.

Berkoff's head was beginning to pound from the noise.

"No."

Berkoff started at Walter's answer and turned to face him. "No? Do I even get to know how long I'll be here?"

The man Walter had called Jack looked at him strangely. "I suppose that all depends on how well you handle what happens in the next few days."

"Why?"

Jack frowned. "Well...if you take it well, don't ask any questions and stay out of everyone's way, you'll go back to Section with Walter and Paul, no questions asked."

Berkoff stared for a minute, slightly thrown by hearing Operations referred to as Paul, but managed to calm enough to ask another question. "If I don't?"

"We'll deal with that if it comes up."

Something in his voice prompted Berkoff to resist the urge to push and change the subject.

"What happens in the next few days?"

Jack just turned around and headed into the gun racks. Meren waited a beat in case Jack came back out before he decided to answer the question. He turned to Berkoff and shrugged.

"We remind the world that we're here."

**

J'net led the fifth un-armed squad through a series of simple drills and then sent them to the head of the field for hand-to-hand. The minute they were out of site she flopped onto a bench and dropped her head into her hands, her elbows on her knees.

Come on. This is *your squad*! You've had this command for six years. What is *wrong* with you?

She almost giggled at herself. The answer to that was simple. She'd never led during an actual assault, and she was scared as hell that she'd screw up.

Lifting her head, J'net squinted out at the field to see her first column coming over the hill doing two-man pursuits.

Ok. When in doubt, use Section training.

She stood up and cleared her head of everything but the job, and jogged to meet the first wave.

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

Chapter thirty-nine ___________

"So, how exactly does this work?" Madeline dropped into a chair in what was usually the main lounge and now resembled a very large think-tank. The woman in front of her had red hair and wore black wire-rim glasses. She sank into the chair across from Madeline and flipped a curl out of her face.

"You do all the psych-ops for Section?"

Madeline nodded. "Among other things."

"Ahhh... well, I suppose I'm your counterpart here." She smiled and Madeline smiled back. "My name is Faith. I'll be your partner for this war."

Madeline's brow furrowed. "Partner?"

"Yep. We run what's jokingly referred to as the 'Mental Room'." She made a sweeping gesture to the rest of the room and leaned back in her chair. "This is our staff. We are supposed to...do what we do. When they send a workup down to Mental, we send it back and tell them whether it'll work or not." She smiled again. "That be it."

Madeline looked around the room. "This is our staff?" She shot a look at Faith. "Aren't there a lot of people down here?"

Faith shrugged. "We're important. No operation goes up without our say-so."

"Really?"

Faith grinned. "Yep."

"Who's idea was that?"

Faith ran a hand through her hair and looked around the room. "I don't know. It's just always been that way. Nothing goes out without our approval. The idea being, though I'm sure I don't have to tell you, that only twenty percent of any given mission is the actual operation. Eighty percent is how it will affect how they think. I know that Lalia believes in it completely...I don't know about Paul, you'd have to tell me that. It's been a while since I saw him. He's...what?" Faith caught Madeline's expression and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Paul Wolfe?"

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

Chapter forty (Circle record of the Contrium Mission) ___________

"Main One, signal."

"Signal check. Main One gone. Main Two back One."

"Check. Maintain position."

"Lalia, it's all yours. Good luck."

"Thanks, Mat." Pause. "Nikita, position."

"West gate, south building in sight. Michael?"

"I'm at the north corner. Fourteen guards. Non-Contrium personnel."

"Nikita, hold there. Michael, give me armaments."

"Ten M-16 assault rifles, two forty-five autos, and two twenty-twos on the guards. Three AK-47s against the outer wall, within reach. Mine as well. No knives plain to sight."

"Take care of them."

"Wait."

"Ok. Michael, hold. Nikita, *what*?"

"Non-Contrium? Michael, do they have any insignia on them?"

"Ugh. I hate being in the van during these things. It throws me off. Michael, answer her."

"No insignia. Lalia, they look familiar... I think they're Red Cell."

"Shit."

"Who was that?"

"Sorry, that was my right hand. Kilen! Keep quiet. We're off enough as it is."

"Sorry, Nikita."

"Michael, if they're Red Cell, keep three alive and we'll send a truck, but knock them out now. We have thirty seconds to their shift change."

Sounds of shooting and bodies falling. Several shouts.

"Done."

"Nikita go."

A short silence, then several shots. An alarm. More silence.

"Main One in."

"We got it from here."

"Michael, good luck. Nikita, get out."

A long silence.

Miscellaneous babble from the lower level Saviors on Nikita's team as they extract. More shots. Nothing from Michael's team as they insert.

"Main One out."

Silence.

Explosion.

Silence.

"Insertion complete. Main Two extracting."

Silence.

"Extraction complete."

"Main One, come back."

"Main One, coming."

Sounds of an engine, presumably the van leaving the extraction point with the teams. A door is slid open between compartments.

"Kilen?? Where the hell is Nikita?!"

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

Chapter forty-one ___________

"What is Circle protocol for this?"

Lalia looked up from her screen and stared at Michael. He looked completely calm, but she knew better.

The marks on Kilen's neck proved it.

"We go back in after her. That is what the Circle does in normal cases." She met his eyes. "Circle Saviors are *not* expendable."

Michael nodded, but didn't break their stare. "Is this not a normal case?"

"No. Nikita is special. We have to be careful...more so than normal."

"Why?"

"She's the only successor I have."

**

Faith jogged over to Madeline's desk. "Nikita didn't extract. We have to provide a fool-proof work-up of the Contrium and another of Red Cell."

Madeline looked up and frowned. "Why Red Cell?"

"They were on-site when Nikita went missing."

"On site at the drop point?"

"Yes."

Madeline nodded and looked at the ceiling. "How is Paul taking it?"

**

"What do you mean, 'she didn't come back'?!"

"What did it sound like?"

"Damnit, Lalia..."

"No. Stop. We're going to get her out, but right now, I'm upset, and you're upset. Let's not do this now, when we will both say things we don't mean."

"Fine." Paul sat down at his 'desk', really just a very big conference table, and promptly stood back up again. "Who was her right hand?"

"Kilen, but I'd ask you not to do whatever you're thinking of doing."

"What? Why? He was there. He can tell me. I'm just going to go *ask*."

"Oh yeah?" Lalia stood up and put her hands on her hips. Every head in the room turned to stare, but at Paul's threatening look, they all went back to work.

Lalia waited a beat until she knew everyone was focusing elsewhere before speaking, and she consciously lowered her voice. "The last person to 'ask' him what happened left finger marks on his neck. He's in the infirmary, and I guarantee he doesn't know anything more than we already have."

"Michael." It wasn't a question. Paul sat back down.

"Ya' think?"

He nodded, then looked back up at her. "You trained her to replace you if something happens, didn't you? She's your successor if you die."

Lalia sat back down and started reading a report. "What makes you say that?"

Paul smiled. "She has mother's mark tattooed on the back of her neck, just above her hairline. I noticed it only recently, I'm rather embarrassed to admit."

Lalia's eyes shot up and held his for a minute. Then she grinned. "Took you all this time to see that? It's not *that* well hidden."

"Subtle, little girl. Real subtle."

"What??"

Paul made a face at his sister. Such innocence her voice did not deserve.

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

Chapter forty-two ___________

"Who do you work for?"

Nikita spit out a tooth and looked her interrogator in the eye. "Don't you guys ever come up with anything new? They *all* ask that. It's getting boring."

"Boring? I'm so sorry our hospitality doesn't meet with your approval." He hit her again. "But that will not stop us from getting our answers."

Nikita nodded. "You're right. It won't. That'll be your weak-ass interrogation techniques."

The blond man in front of her growled, but didn't hit her again. He wasn't used to subjects that talked back.

Nikita wracked her brain for another come-back as he stood there. Circle Saviors had a specific way of handling interrogation, and, having been operating under Section rules for so long, she was rusty. But just as his hand came down for another blow, a nice line clicked into place.

Her head whipped to the side under the force of the blow and he smirked. "Not laughing now, are we? Where's the snappy retort?"

Nikita smiled and lifted her head. "It's gone. You bored it to death." Ok, so it wasn't that clever, but she hadn't done this in a while.

The man growled and stormed out, slamming the heavy door behind him.

On the other hand, maybe it was better than I thought.

**

"Ok, I know I'm not supposed to ask questions or get in the way, but there's a faster way to do that."

The tec looked up and glared at Berkoff. "Look, I'm busy. Go bother someone else, ok?"

Berkoff nodded, then cringed as the girl started to, one by one, search several databases for a mention of a specific agent.

By hand.

"Really. There's an easier way to do that."

She looked up again, then smirked. "Oh, then, by all means. Do my work for me." She stood and moved behind the chair, motioning for Berkoff to take her place. He smiled, sat down, and set up a script to search the remaining databases automatically. Then he stood. It hadn't taken him five minutes. He smiled again.

"It should be done in about fifteen minutes." Smiling, he went back to his own laptop and picked up his game of Doom. The tec just stared at her computer, openmouthed.

"Jeez. I've never seen anyone but Lalia do anything that fast."

Berkoff's hand slipped, and he watched the screen as he lost a life.

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

Chapter forty-three ___________

Madeline frowned at her screen and closed the lid on her laptop. "I need coffee."

Faith looked up from across the table. "I can have someone bring you some."

"No." Madeline shook her head. "I'm going to stretch my legs." She stood, they paused and turned back around. "Is Serge still running the dining room, or did it shut down?"

Faith giggled. "The day Lalia lets that kitchen shut down is the day The Circle starts canceling Saviors."

Madeline gave a half smile. "In that case, I'm going to go bother him for some cheesecake and a latte."

Faith looked up. "Bring me some?"

"Sure."

**

"Ok, Michael is going in after her, and he's taking his team. I want to send J'net in too...."

"Wait...J'net? Why?"

Lalia didn't look up. "Because we need to get her out there. She needs to get some actual experience, and this is, really, the safest way. We already know the layout, and we've been there before. Also, they won't be expecting a retrieval."

"Why not."

Lalia made a face. "They're used to dealing with you, Paul." She looked up. "When was the last time you actually made an attempt to retrieve a fallen operative?"

Paul raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Start in on my conscience." He smiled wryly. "And here, I thought I'd managed to ditch the thing years ago."

She smiled. "You did. I'm just good about returning lost property."

Paul looked at her strangely. "You know, Lalia, sometimes I worry about you."

She just smiled.

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

Chapter forty-four (uhhh...there's a swear word...) ___________

Michael slid into his uniform jacket and covered the crest with a Velcro flap. "Who's taking care of the interrogation of the Red Cell operatives?"

"I'm thinking of having Madeline do it." Lalia leaned against a locker and stretched her legs out in front of her along the bench. "She does it at Section, yes?"

Michael nodded. "But I thought she was doing the psyche workups."

"She can't do both? I think she can do five times as much without breaking a sweat."

"So do I. But isn't it against policy? It was my impression that you normally have each person only doing one thing."

"Now what on *earth* gave you that idea?" Lalia smiled and stood up. "Good luck. And Michael?"

He turned to her and slung a bag over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"If she's been interrogated, you bring him in. Alive."

"Yes." Michael headed for the door.

"He's mine, Michael."

Michael stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I mean it."

He nodded, then left. Lalia kept her eyes on the now empty door.

"He's mine."

**

"Where's Berkoff?"

"What?" Jack looked up and glanced around the room. "Not here. Why?"

Walter cringed. "I think he's into something...actually, that's wrong."

"Hmm?"

"I think he's into *someone*."

It took Jack a minute, but when he finally looked up he was frowning. "Say again?"

"I saw Berkoff with a cute girl...I think she's a tec. Two hours ago they were in the library. Now they're not."

Jack nodded. "Oh." He went back to the machine he was re-wiring for a minute before his hands froze. Slowly, he looked up again.

"Oh....shit."

"That about covers it."

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

Chapter forty-five ___________

"Madeline?" Lalia ran a hand along the large glass table Madeline had been given for a desk. She looked up and caught Faith's eye.

"Where's Madeline?"

"She went for cheesecake and coffee." Faith pouted. "She was supposed to bring me back some, but nada so far."

"I'm sure she'll be down as soon as she's done." Lalia glanced at the computer on the desk. "You think she's done with...whichever workup she's doing?"

"I don't know...why?"

"I need her somewhere else for a while."

Faith frowned. "We need her here. Badly. She's four or five times better than anyone else...including me, and I really hate having to admit that."

Lalia smiled. "I know, and I'm not taking her...I'm just adding to her duties." She slumped into Madeline's leather chair and turned it to face Faith. "Unless *you'd* like to take care of the interrogations."

Faith turned pale. "You know, I think we can spare her for a few hours."

Lalia smirked. "So glad to hear it."

**

"Do you think she's Section?"

"Yes. She matches the description of one of their top level operatives: Nikita. She is Section One."

A man with dark hair, thick black glasses and a goatee smiled. "So. We have an upper-level Section Operative. And if Section's past is any indication, they will never, no matter how high up she is, come after her." His smile turned feral. "That is so beautiful, I cannot begin to describe it."

"Yes, sir."

The blond behind them kept his mouth shut. Having worked her over for over an hour, he knew that she wasn't acting as Section operatives usually did during interrogation...but once Devon Mealiana decided something, it was final. You contradicted him, you died. Simple as that.

So the blond man held his tongue.

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

Chapter forty-six (Circle record of retrieval for Savior Alpha-Two) ___________

"J'net, take first point."

"I'm in."

"All yours."

"In. Group one, lead off."

"J'net, I need an entry point at the south gate."

"Got it. Point two, make way. South breaker. Go."

Sounds of shots.

"Done."

"Check. Michael, you're in. Point two, back out, make way for Rec Team Two."

"Out."

"Michael, let me know."

"J'net, keep the front tunnel clear. I'll need extraction for at least one live hostile."

"Got it. Point five, take the tunnel."

"We're in."

"Ok, good. And for the record, when you say 'check', we sound like some kind of bad military movie. Knock it off."

"Yes, J'net. Sorry." Chuckling.

"Hey! No laughing on the open line. If they hear us, they'll think we're pranksters."

"No one will think that, Ger. I promise. Pranksters do not blow things up as they leave."

"Sure they do. Didn't you ever see 'Mind Games'?"

"Ok, could we stop now? This is a mission."

"Yes ma'am."

Silence.

"Oh, yeah, this is so-o-o-o much better."

"Quiet!"

More silence. Sounds of shots.

"Point two, we're out."

"Ger, go get Michael. Ling, follow and take the prisoners."

"Coming."

"Nikita?"

"I have her."

"Make for the van. You're clear."

"Check."

"Ger!"

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

Chapter forty-seven ___________

"Madeline's going to do the interrogation on the guys we picked up this morning tomorrow. Something about letting them sit."

"She knows what she's doing Lalia. Trust me."

Lalia sank into the couch in the Library and smiled tiredly. "I do. And I trust her. I wasn't trying to put her down, I just didn't feel like repeating what she said word for word."

Paul grinned from his seat at a table. "Said the girl with the photographic memory."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Did the retrieval go off ok?"

Lalia nodded. "They checked in at midnight."

"Any prisoners?"

"Just one."

"Is Madeline doing him tomorrow as well?"

Lalia's expression turned dark and she shook her head.

"No. Mine."

Paul met her eyes for a minute, but before he turned away he was reminded, again, just how much like his sister Madeline was. He'd seen that look before.

It wasn't an expression he was happy he remembered.

**

Faith took a bite of cheesecake and spoke around it.

"So, what did Lalia want?"

"She wanted me to interrogate the Red Cell operatives they brought in this morning."

Faith frowned and wiped her mouth. "Why you?"

Madeline caught her eye and held it. She didn't say a word.

After about a minute Faith looked away nervously.

"That's why."

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

Chapter forty-eight ___________

"Hey." Michael tried again to wake Nikita. She'd been out since they'd picked her up, and they were now flying over The Andes on the way back to the Island.

"Nikita." He ran a finger down her face, tracing the contours of her cheekbone and rested on her chin. "Nikita."

She moaned quietly and her eyes managed to open. Michael's own eyes darkened at the sight of hers so bloodshot and swollen.

The idiot who'd hit her might not make it back to Lalia....

"Michael. Hey." Nikita smiled up at him and rubbed a hand over her forehead. "Did you get the number on the truck that hit me?"

Michael smiled at her. "Better than that."

"Hmm?"

He motioned to the chained and hooded prisoner in the back of the airplane. "We got the truck."

**

"Lalia!" Walter jogged to catch up to her, breathing hard.

Lalia stopped walking and waited for him.

When he caught up with her, Walter leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling for a minute, still panting. He gave a weak smile and waved. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's up?"

"Oh...uhh...ok, you get that I can't watch Berkoff every minute, right?"

Lalia straightened from where she'd been leaning next to him and put her hands on either side of his head, tilting her body in until they were face to face, almost literally.

"Walter. What. Happened."

"He's in a lower-level Savior's room. Her name's Rene. She's a tec, mostly a trouble-shooter for one of the middle station teams. I stuck him down there while I was working with Meren on the Key because I didn't think you wanted Berkoff to *see* the Key, and we're pretty sure now that they aren't just sitting there talking, because she has a roommate who says their signal is out."

Lalia didn't move out of her threatening stance. "Signal?"

"A scarf on the door. It's supposed to mean 'do not disturb'. Which means..."

"Yes, thank you Walter. I know what it means." Lalia finally backed off only to slump against the opposite wall and cover her face. She stood there for a full minute before looking up.

"Well, there's not much we can do about it now, is there? He'll see hers, or she'll see his. He'll probably ask her. She'll probably tell him. And that'll be that."

Walter didn't say a word, and eventually Lalia straightened and headed back down the hall. When she was actually out of sight Walter let out the breath he'd been holding.

He'd really been expecting her to kill him.

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

Chapter forty-nine ___________

"So. Guess where Berkoff is?"

Paul didn't look up from the map on the table. "Where?"

"In a lower-level tec's room."

*Now* he looked up. "What?!"

Lalia perched on the edge of the table and smiled a saccharine-sweet smile. "Walter sent Berkoff down to a middle station prep area so he could work on the Key with Meren. While there, Berkoff met a young tec named Rene, and as of right now, they are in her bedroom, with a 'do not disturb' signal out for her roommate."

"Shit."

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

Paul sat down and closed his eyes.

Lalia sat down across from him.

Neither said another word.

**

"So. I've let it sit for almost two days, but now I gotta ask."

Madeline squinted up at Faith, letting her eyes readjust after hours staring at a screen. "What?"

"You really didn't know that Paul was here?"

Madeline consciously kept a neutral expression and moved her eyes back to the computer. "No."

Faith nodded. "So, you know there was probably a reason no one told you. In fact, I can't think of a single scenario where they were not purposely withholding the knowledge."

"Mm hmm." She didn't look back up.

"So, my question is, what are you going to do about it, and how can I help?"

Madeline still didn't look up, but she did smile.

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

Chapter fifty (Ok, let's go with R for this one.) ___________

"Wow."

"I'll second that." Berkoff rolled over to face Rene and smiled. She grinned back and tweaked his nose.

"So...where did you learn that?"

His brow furrowed, but his eyes gleamed. "Learn what?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" She reached down and pinched something sensitive. He yelped, then rolled over her, pinning her arms above her head.

"Just for that, I'm not telling you."

Rene giggle. "Fine then. Be that way." She squirmed, trying to get away, but didn't really want to, so managed to fail miserably. Berkoff grinned down at her.

"Going somewhere?"

"Obviously not." She giggled again. "Though, I suppose even if I tried I couldn't. Not with a founding son on top of me."

Berkoff let go of her arms and sat up, kneeling between her legs. "A what?"

Rene rolled her eyes. "You think I don't know a founders mark when I see one?" She sat up under him, raising her knees to cradle him and and ran a finger up his back, searching for and finding the tattoo on his right shoulder blade. She traced it as she talked, kissing his chest between words. "I didn't even realize it when I asked you in here, but I have to say... you certainly lived up to the reputation."

Berkoff was about to ask something but was distracted when her other hand moved between them. She rolled them over and started kissing him again.

Then her hand started pumping and he forgot the question completely.

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

Chapter fifty-one ___________

Michael rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow. He looked down at Nikita who mumbled something in her sleep. He smiled and brushed a piece of hair out of her face.

It turned out that the Circle doctors wouldn't make you stay in the infirmary if you had a 'loved one' willing and able to take care of you, so Nikita had been moved to Michael's Circle apartment after she'd been checked over. Now she was asleep in his bed, apparently dreaming.

Judging by the moaning earlier, she wasn't having a nightmare.

"Nikita." He traced her collarbone with one finger, carefully avoiding the growing bruise along her right shoulder. "Wake up. You have to see the doctor again."

She mumbled again and rolled over. Michael chuckled.

"Nikita."

"Five more minutes."

"No. I'm worried about the wound on your head. I want them to look at it again. So you have to get up."

Nikita groaned but opened her eyes and looked up. Michael was hovering over her, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Morning."

He smiled. "Good morning."

**

Rene glanced at Berkoff before sliding away from him as quietly as she could. She didn't want to get up, but she had to be at her station in an hour. As she moved her head off his chest he reached for her. When he didn't make contact he rolled over onto his stomach, giving Rene a clear view of his tattoo.

She reached out and traced it again. It was beautiful... the symbol of the founders bloodline. The thought that he was lying here, in her bed, was overwhelming. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to lie in his strong arms and let him protect her.

Ok, so it was corny. But she was a level two Savior. The only time she even *saw* and Inner Circle Savior was for a lecture, or the one time she'd gotten promoted. The very concept that he would be there in her bed was so unthinkable...

But he was.

Rene bit her lip and looked at the clock again, then looked at her phone. She could call Fera and have her take over the shift...

Berkoff mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over again, throwing one arm over his eyes and the other across her pillow invitingly.

She grabbed the phone and started dialing.

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

Chapter fifty-two ___________

"So, what level is Rene?"

"Two."

"Ugh. She had to be less than four, didn't she? She's going to have that humble attitude around him. And if this turns out to be more than a one night stand, she'll end up being up here a lot, walking around with that awed look they all get, and...."

"Jack, stop." Lalia sighed and dropped her menu back onto the table. She wasn't hungry.

"What? I'm just saying..."

"You aren't comfortable around lower levels. I get that. I know that. I've known it for centuries. I'm really not worried about her so much today, ok? I'm more worried about him."

"Berkoff?"

"No, Arafat. *Yes, Berkoff*. As of right now, he is either asking about her tattoo... or she's fawning over his. He has no idea what that mark means. All he knows is that it's a tattoo... and that he's always had it. I doubt he even remembers he has it most of the time... but now..."

"Well...I can think of worse ways for him to find out."

Lalia glared at him over her coffee. "Do tell."

Jack shrugged. "The Ordem could have grabbed him and explained it while they slowly tortured him to death."

Lalia thumped the coffee cup down and stared at him. "You really know how to make a girl feel better, don't you?"

He shrugged again. "Just putting it in perspective."

She glared and sipped her coffee. Looking around, she spotted a waiter and called him over, thinking she should at least try to eat some toast.

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

Chapter fifty-three ___________

Madeline smiled at the guard and waited for him to open the cell door. As she walked in, her smile took on a tone that made the guard very glad he wasn't the one she was aiming it at.

Then he did a double-take. He knew her....

Hell, he'd been there when they brought her in. Byron frowned. What was her name?

Madeline, that's right.

He thought about her smile as he closed the door behind her.

Well...they'd said she was powerful...

**

"Good morning." Madeline gave the man her patented smile and stood in front of him. He was sitting on the cell floor, his back against the back wall with his legs stretched in front of him. Unlike the cell Madeline had been held in when she first came in, this one was dimly lit and uncomfortably cold.

"I will tell you nothing."

**

"Ugh. They all need a new script." Lalia turned the volume up on the screen and took another sip of her coffee as she flopped into the chair behind her desk.

"Ok, Maddy. Let's see what you've got."

**

"You work for Red Cell." It wasn't a question. The man on the floor just stared at her.

"Do you have a name?"

"Pablo." He spat the word like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

"Pablo. Spanish. Yet you work with Red Cell? Why? Their causes are completely contradictory to yours."

"They only think I work for them. I work for no one but myself."

Madeline smiled.

**

Lalia stared at the screen.

"Wow. Ok.....how they hell did she do *that*?"

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

Chapter fifty-four ___________

Berkoff pried his eyes open and turned his head to look at the clock.

However, he wasn't in his bed, and the clock here was on the other side. He tried to roll over, and that's when he noticed the brunette sleeping in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest.

He lifted his free arm and stroked her hair, thinking back on the night before. She'd said something about his tattoo...what was it she called him?

Founding son. She'd called him a founding son.

Founder of what?

**

"He up yet?"

Walter smirked. "He's young. I'm sure he's managing."

Jack closed his eyes as if in pain. "Walter, that *is* my son you're talking about. Must you do that?"

Walter stood for a minute and put his hand to his chin as if in thought.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I must."

Jack glared and Walter grinned unrepentantly.

"I'd think you'd be happy about this! I mean, he'll find out who he is from..."

"Someone who'll worship the ground he walks on, inflate his ego, fawn over him, and generally make him impossible to train? Is that what you were about to say, Walter?"

Walter cringed. "Uhh...no. I was gonna say that he'll find out from someone who'll just give him the bare facts since she doesn't know anymore, and therefore, he won't start his life in the circle being scared shitless, because he has to save the world with a jewel embedded in his hand at birth."

Jack glared again. "Yeah, that makes it worthwhile."

"I'm just saying..."

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

Chapter fifty-five ___________

"Well, it's healing fine, but I'd take a few days off. No active training, no missions. I'll make sure Lalia knows."

Nikita grimaced. "No missions? We're at war!"

The doctor shot an odd look at Michael before replying. "I don't see the problem. You're one soldier. You can sit a few days out. There are plenty of people to fight the war."

Nikita shook her head. "I lead Recon one. I have to be active." She turned to Michael. "We still have France, and I need to go over the Iran mission with Strategies..."

"Stop. Two days will not kill you. I'll lead Recon one in France, and by the time we get to Iran, you'll be cleared." Michael glared at the doctor. "Right?"

The doctor nodded. "Right. Not a problem."

"Good."

The doctor quickly excused himself and left the room. Michael was making him decidedly nervous.

**

"Ok, I've been around for a while, and while I don't pretend to know everything, I must admit that I find it depressing that I can't figure out how you did that."

Madeline smiled at Lalia as she sat down and took her menu from the waitress, noting that it was the first waitress she'd seen so far down here.

"How I did what?"

Lalia didn't answer, just raised her eyebrows.

"What?" Madeline's tone of voice was coy. She was curious about Paul, but of all people, fond herself trusting Lalia. Oh, she'd get her back...there was no question there. But Madeline couldn't help but listen to the voice in the back of her head telling her that if Lalia hid this, it was for a reason.

"What do you mean, 'what'? Were you not there? Was I watching a clone run that interrogation?"

"Oh, that!" Madeline smiled sweetly. "I suppose you just have to know how to push the right buttons."

Lalia started for a minute, then shrugged. "Fine. You don't want to tell me, don't tell me." She picked up her menu. "We all have our secrets."

Madeline frowned at her menu.

Yes, we do, don't we?

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

Chapter fifty-six ___________

Greg finally caught up with Lalia in the library and sank into a chair across the research table from her.

"Hey."

She didn't look up. "Hey."

"Lalia..."

"Not now, Greg. I don't have time."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Really? No time for coffee? And yet, I can almost guarantee that you've had at *least* four cups today."

Lalia raised her head and caught his eye. He cringed. It was obvious that she both hadn't slept last night and had spent it worrying.

Greg stood and took her arm, urging her out of the chair. "You need sleep. Really. And there aren't any missions going out until tonight. You can take a few hours." He started to lead her out of the library, and she let him for about a minute until she snapped back into focus.

Shaking off his arm she went back to the table. "I can't. I'll sleep after tonight." She ran a hand through her hair before picking the report she'd been reading back up.

Greg frowned at her from the doorway. "Are you planning on killing yourself? How about the squad tonight? Because you're hardly in a state to lead."

Lalia shrugged. "I have to wait for Berkoff."

Greg stared for a minute before walking back over and re-taking his seat.

"Why is that?"

"He spent the night in some lower level tec's room. I don't know what she knows, so I don't know what he knows. So, I don't know if he's going to spend the day just sitting around again, or if he's going to spend the day finding out more of his personal history than is safe for him to know, learning to hate his abandoning parents, and hearing about how he is the only one who, when the time comes, can save the world, due to a little jewel we embedded in his hand when he was born." She glared at Greg. "So, I'm not going to sleep."

"Ok. That's cool."

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

Chapter fifty-seven ___________

Ok, it's almost nine-thirty. How late do people sleep here, and how do I sign up?

Berkoff brushed another piece of hair out of Rene's face. She was cuddled up to his side, and though his arm was falling asleep, he really didn't notice. He was trying to work everything out.

She'd been...impressed. That was the only word for it. By his *tattoo* of all things. He'd had that tattoo...god, since before he could even remember. It'd always been there. He used to look at it in the mirror, but these days, it might as well have not been there for all the thought he gave it.

But...she'd been impressed. Said it was the mark of a founding son.

Berkoff reached his free arm over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, looking for random clues.

And hit paydirt.

"The Circle of the Gifted - A History"

**

"Walter. What are you working on?" Madeline smiled and leaned over his shoulder, peering at the electronics strewn over the table.

"Ehh...nothing you're interested in." Walter smiled turned to face her. "So, how goes it up in the lofty tower of the mental ward?"

Madeline sighed. "The names they come up with around here." She smiled. "But fine, thank you. Though, I did learn something interesting, and I was wondering if you could help me understand something?"

"What's that?"

Madeline leaned in and rested her hands on the table behind him, one on each side, effectivley pinning him in.

"Why was I lied to?"

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

Chapter fifty-eight ___________

"He's still not out." Lalia grimaced and flopped into a chair. Paul squinted at her across the table.

"Who?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed her hair back from her face, gathering it into a loose ponytail. Paul sighed. The first time back that he'd seen her with her hair down, and five seconds after seeing him, up it went.

"Berkoff, dumb-dumb. He's still in that girl's room. It's lunchtime."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "It's actually an hour past, which raises the question of where you were, dear sister, that you of all people almost missed a meal." He flashed a half smile. "'Dumb-dumb'?"

"Sounded right at the time. And I've been working. *And*, that isn't the point. The point is, they aren't still having 'morning sex', ok? It's been too long. By now, they're talking. And her area said she sent down a friend to take over her shift instead of going in. She's skipping work."

"Ok." He frowned. "Do we think that's a good thing or a bad thing?"

Lalia shook her head. "We aren't sure." She rubbed a hand over her face and squinted back at him. "Is that coffee?"

Paul looked down at the cup by his elbow. "It was...about an hour ago. Right now I'd say it's closer to brown water." He made a face. "And I'm not drinking it."

"I am." Lalia reached across the tabletop and swiped it, knocking over a salt shaker and not bothering to right it. Paul didn't notice. She took a sip and made a face.

"Was this coffee when you got it, even? It doesn't taste like Serge's coffee."

"It's not. He's on the mainland today for something. I don't know what. It's Jacob's coffee." He nodded towards the kitchen. "Not a skill he's mastered yet."

Lalia groaned. "No, but I need the caffeine." She took a deep breath and downed the liquid, wrinkling her nose. Then she reached over and stole her brother's water. She finished it in two swallows, trying to get the taste of the coffee out of her mouth. Paul made frustrated motion with his hands.

"Hey! Supposing I wanted that?"

"This is the Circle, not Section. You can get more water."

He made a face at her. "That was low. You can always get water in Section. And at least in Section, the main cook doesn't just take off whenever he feels like it and leave an incompetent in his place."

She smiled wryly. "Ok. You know what?" She glanced over her shoulder and the kitchen. "I'm not going to argue that point." She ran a hand over her face and the next words were mumbled, but Paul heard them:

"Besides, you're right."

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

Chapter fifty-nine (Slightly suggestive) ___________

"Ready?"

"No."

"J'net!" Meren collapsed onto the couch and stared at his wife with wide, big-eyed annoyance. "What is the problem now?"

"You know what? Just go without me. Really. I have work to do, and a mission to plan. I should go over it with Nikita, and I know she won't be in the dining hall, since she's on sick-break, so, actually, it would probably be nicer if I made something and took it over since I'm asking for her help, plus I have to take care of the briefing reports from Lil and Andrew, not to mention..."

Meren stood up and put his hand over his wife's mouth, stopping her from pacing anymore. "Sweetheart. What's wrong?"

J'net sighed. "My sister's down there. She thinks she killed me, I'm not allowed to tell her who I am, and I don't know if I can face even seeing her to begin with."

"What?!"

**

Berkoff had slid out of bed roughly fifteen minutes after he started reading, and was now sitting at Rene's desk, completely engrossed. So much in fact that he didn't hear her finally wake up again, and didn't notice when she stood and came up behind him.

So when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Rene!" He turned around and cinched his arms around her naked waist, kissing her bellybutton. "Don't do that."

She giggled as he started to tease her stomach, tickling her with his mouth. "What'cha reading?"

Berkoff bit her stomach and she moaned. He looked up at her. "Is it important?"

Rene shook her head. He was a founding son. Hell, if he went through her diary, it wasn't like she'd complain.

Berkoff smiled and went back to her stomach, his mind trying to work out a way to sneak the book out of her apartment later.

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

Chapter sixty (one bad word) ___________

Walter raised an eyebrow at Madeline. "Lied to?"

She searched his face for guilt, but had to finally admit that with both Section and Circle training, there wasn't a lot of hope that he'd be that transparent.

"Yes, lied to. There are some important things that no one told me."

"That isn't a lie. That's withholding information." Walter smiled. "You know that Inner Circle Saviors don't lie to each other. It's a damn rule, and it's not like we have oh so many of them that we can just break them left and right."

Madeline eased off and stood back, putting her hands in her jean pockets. Walter suddenly noticed that, yes, Madeline was wearing jeans. And a simple, comfortable sweater.

Well, that was new...

"Alright. So, if I ask a question, whatever you answer is the truth?"

Walter gave her a strange look. "Well, yeah. Why?"

Madeline didn't answer. She stood there for a minute, and then just turned around and left. Walter stared after her.

**

"Nikita, down." Michael pushed her shoulders back into the bed and gave her a stern look that normally had operatives pissing their pants.

Nikita simply ignored it and sat up again.

"Nikita!"

"Michael, I can at least get the sim done. Look, it's all on the computer, I can work from bed. I'm not doing anything the doctor said I couldn't."

"The doctor said no work at all. This includes yelling at a laptop while you try to get it to work up to your speed." He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the computer out of her hands, glaring at her.

"You need sleep. Working will not help you to accomplish this."

Nikita glared right back. "Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

He shrugged. "I have no problems with that. I've done it before. But you are going to sleep if I have to drug you." He held her gaze. "Do I?"

Nikita sighed and laid back down, and Michael shut off the light. He came over and kissed her head before leaving the room.

"Sleep, sweet one."

Nikita's eyes shot open as she heard the door close.

He'd used an endearment!

Would wonders never cease?

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

Chapter sixty-one ___________

Paul dropped into a chair in the Inner Circle tec-ops area and stared at the back of his sister's fiancé for a minute before speaking. He wasn't really sure why he was even down here, other than the fact that Lalia refused to talk about it, and it would be nice if he knew how Greg had managed to do what men had been attempting for several centuries.

Paul almost laughed.

-- There's a sentence you don't hear every day...

He sighed and decided to take the plunge.

"So, you proposed, and she said yes. Yes?"

Greg looked up from his screen and turned to Paul. He made a face. "No."

"No?"

"No, I proposed and she ran away. Then, and I think this was after the attack on Jamaica, she came to my room and asked if the 'offer was still open.'" Greg's voice was sarcastic, but his face didn't give anything away, as usual.

Paul's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "And *then* she said yes?"

"No." Greg sighed and pushed away from his station, running a hand through his hair. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "No, she said she wanted to try being engaged for a while before we actually talked about getting married." He shrugged. "I figured I'd take what I could get."

Paul nodded. "Ok...well, that's...spineless of you."

Greg glared. "Hey, she offered me something she never even offered Jack, and she had a baby with *him*. I think this was a pretty good choice on my part. Besides that, this from the man who's tried to kill me twice? That wasn't a spineless act? I wasn't exactly abaence material. You were just afraid George would steal me." He didn't mention that he was undercover for Circle at the time, made up to look younger, or that George was his father. None of this was likely to win him points with Paul. He did, at some point, hope to be in the man's family, after all...

Paul raised an eyebrow, but didn't look particularly guilty. "I didn't know you were a Savior."

Greg caught his eye. "Would it have made a difference?"

Paul didn't say anything for a minute, then he smiled.

"No."

The tec nodded and swiveled in his chair to face the computer.

"But being engaged to my sister would have."

Greg whipped back around only to catch Paul's back as he walked away.

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

Chapter sixty-two ___________

"Oh. My. God. She actually fell asleep."

Faith stood over Lalia and just stared down in shock. Her assistant was the one who'd spoken, but Faith hadn't heard her.

"Did you know that she's never fallen asleep at work? I mean, *never*. Not ever."

The assistant, who's name was Kelly, raised an eyebrow. "Really? How old is she, like two-hundred?"

Faith looked at her oddly. "Uh, you did go to school, right?"

"Of course. Why?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Because she's four-hundred and sixty-three. Where do you get two?"

Kelly shrugged just as Paul came up behind them, looking through a folder for a report he was sure he had. He'd just decided to steal Lalia's and copy it when he noticed the two psychologists staring at his sister's desk.

"What are you two looking at? Shouldn't you be working?"

Faith just pointed, and Paul followed her finger to see his sister with her head pillowed on her arms on the table, fast asleep.

"Thank God. I was getting worried."

The two women stared at him and he looked at them blankly. "What?"

Faith just shook her head and handed him a few sim-pads before heading back to the stairs. Kelly followed her out, and Paul watched them go before turning back to Lalia. He smiled, then frowned. Walking over, he carefully started to slip papers out from under her arms.

"Ok, little sister. Where did you put that report?"

She'd never know it was missing.

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

Chapter sixty-three ___________

"Madeline, right?"

Madeline looked up from her computer to see a dark-haired man standing in front of her desk. She nodded and motioned for him to sit and he did, smiling.

"I'm Meren."

Madeline smiled back and held out her hand. "Very nice to meet you."

Meren just sat there, meeting her gaze for almost a full minute before speaking.

"Do you know a woman named J'net?"

**

Lalia woke up and blinked a few times before raising her head. She looked around the room in distaste.

-- I fell asleep at my desk? That's just so sad...

Sighing, she straightened up in her chair and grabbed her coffee cup. Frowning into it, she stood and headed for the dining hall for a refill.

-- And a thermos.

**

Nikita slipped out of bed and peered around the corner, checking for Michael. He wasn't there. Biting her lip in an effort to keep quiet, she slipped on her clothes and carefully bent to tie her shoes, wincing at her broken ribs. They were healing, but not really as fast at they could have.

At least, not according to her.

She stared at the bed before rolling her eyes and piling the blankets and pillows up so it looked like she was there. Really, *nothing* she did would fool Michael if he actually came in to check, but if he just looked from the doorway, this would do it.

Giving a last look around the room, Nikita turned off the light and headed out into the hallway.

Actually, she had two reasons for sneaking out. One was her medical condition, obviously, but the other was where she was going.

Nikita needed to talk to Jack.

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

Chapter sixty-four ___________

"J'net?" Madeline frowned. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

Meren shrugged and kept a straight face. "She needs some help...she's Inner Circle, and she leads a squad, but she's...she has some issues. I just...I read your record, and you seem like you're pretty good at this. Better than anyone *we* have already here, so I was wondering if you'd talk to her?"

Madeline fought the urge to raise an eyebrow. He was hiding something, and was obviously not trained for this sort of face-to-face confrontation, but for an amateur, it was well done.

-- No way to find out but to do it.

She smiled. "That would be fine. When would she like to meet?"

Meren shrugged again. "I don't know, I haven't really talked this over with her. I wanted to check with you first. Probably not 'till after this whole thing with Freedom League's blown over. Can I get back to you?"

Madeline nodded and watched him walk away. Even his back was tense. She frowned.

-- Definitely hiding something.

**

"Jack?"

He looked up and smiled at Nikita. "Hey Nikki."

She didn't return the smile. "We have to talk."

Jack nodded and put down the machinery he'd been working on. He grabbed a towel and started to wipe off his hands. "What's up?"

"I know how you feel about me."

Jack's face went a little pale but he didn't change his expression. "Oh?"

"Jack, I'm sorry." She sat down, her injuries hurting more than she'd be willing to admit. "I love you, but not like that."

He nodded. "I know. Listen Nikki, it's not a big deal..."

"It is." She leaned forward on her knees. "I can't be around you when Michael's not in the Caverns anymore. It upsets him. It took me a while to figure out why, but now I get it. And I don't want to throw this on top of everything else he has to worry about."

Jack looked down at his hands. "Well, you gotta do what you gotta do."

Nikita stood up and left. Jack stared at the door for about a minute before crossing the room to the intercom.

*Someone* would be willing to get drunk with him tonight.

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

Chapter sixty-five (END) ___________

Three weeks later:

"Wow." Lalia stared at her screen. "We did that fast, even by Circle standards."

Paul nodded. "Fifty-seven bases all purged. That doesn't include all the sub-bases and stock-piles."

"When are you leaving?"

He sat down. "Tonight. Walter and Berkoff will be coming back with Madeline, Michael and Nikita tomorrow."

Lalia nodded. "Still nothing on Berkoff?"

"No. Seems all that happened was some sex. Not really something we can complain about. He hasn't even seen the girl in a week."

"Ok. Well...let me know when you get in there, ok?"

"Ok." He stood to leave, but stopped at the door. "Do we know what's going on with the Ordem?"

She didn't look up from her screen. "They're still watching her, Paul. Constant mind reading. She can't know."

"Right." He paused and then figured it was worth it to mention. "I was thinking."

"Yeah?"

"The way we probe-proofed the caverns..."

"For Section?" Lalia looked up and he nodded. She seemed to consider it for a minute. "I suppose it's worth looking into. I don't know, though. Without constant maintenance, there'd be no guarantee the mind readers couldn't see in. It's a chance."

Paul smiled and came back in. He sat down and caught his sister's eye. "Supposing I said I wanted constant maintenance."

Lalia raised an eyebrow. "You'd have my attention."

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