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"It's a Start"
by Sonya
The Walter Challenge



He still couldn't believe it had happened. Every time he replayed the scene in his mind, he couldn't believe what he saw. Michael had knowingly sent his Sugar to her death. She died in an explosion of bombs Walter had made himself. "That's Nikita in there!" he cried at Michael again and again in his mind. Again and again Michael pulled the gun on him. Walter felt useless and old knowing that he couldn't fight Section's Top Op and win. Worse, he felt that his failure to save his friend moved him squarely out of the 5% club. He had saved his ass, but lost his soul.

Walter looked up and saw the man in black stalking through the halls of Section. He looked stoic as always, as though nothing had happened. The seeds of hatred started sprouting, choking off 15 years of admiration for the younger man's prowess in the field. Walter knew he couldn't take on Michael directly and obtain justice for Nikita. To do so would mean certain cancellation and he wasn't yet ready for that. However, thoughts of minor equipment failures started dancing through his head. He might not be able to kill the bastard, but at least he could make him uncomfortable as hell.

"Senator Monica Thomas. Suspected of working with the Russian government on a secret plan to dump nuclear waste in Great Britain in exchange for large soft-money campaign contributions. Her motivation appears strictly financial. Her last re-election campaign was heavily fought and required her to go to extraordinary fund-raising efforts. She was widowed two years ago and is rumored to be an alcoholic. So far, she has managed to stay clean publicly. It is our job to expose her and stop the dumping. Profiles are on your panels. Michael, see Walter for your equipment." Operations clicked his laser pointer and the image of the distinguished gentlewoman disappeared.

Walter had created an exact duplicate of the Senator's 2-carat diamond engagement ring. Like many widows, she had chosen to continue wearing her wedding set. Madeline admired Walter's handiwork. "You could have been a jeweler, Walter. This is a very nice reproduction." Walter handed the box over to Michael, barely disguising a look of distaste for contact with the younger man.

Under the ring compartment were concealed several white pills which appeared to be aspirin. "You're familiar with Rohypnol, I assume, Michael. Just slip a couple of these into her drink and she'll be asleep within minutes. She will have no memory of the evening's events. The tracker will allow us to obtain proof of her treason. She will then be forced to reveal her contacts within the Russian government and resign her seat." Madeline had authorized the use of the "date rape" drug in deference to Michael. He had never formally requested a cessation of his Valentine duties, but it was clear after Nikita's death that he had no taste for them.

In his Armani tuxedo, Michael blended in with the crowd of lawyers, lobbyists and other Washington insiders gathered for a fund-raising event at the Mayflower Hotel. His hair had been conservatively styled and the standard elegant mission spectacles adorned his nose. He discreetly checked his inside pocket for the jewelry box. Assured, he moved deeper into the party looking for the Senator.

"She's at the front of the Grand Ballroom. Johnson just spotted her from the balcony" sounded Birkhoff through his comm unit. Michael located the target and moved toward her. Ninety minutes later with the aid of his considerable charm and several glasses of champagne, Michael was in the sitting room of the VIP suite reserved for the Senator.

"Would you care for a drink over negotiations, Senator?" offered Michael. "The bar is fully stocked."

"Vodka tonic, please, though God knows I don't need another after that lot," laughed the Senator, leaning back into the pink overstuffed sofa. "And please call me Monica, Michael."

Michael mixed her drink and poured in the knockout drops, thanking God that for once the profile didn't call for him to actually carry through seduction. He had some unpleasant encounters in the past, but the sixty-something alcoholic senator would have posed a challenge even to the best of his Valentine training.

The senator took the crystal glass and drained half the contents. "They use the good stuff up here, not like the watered down crap they had downstairs. You'd think for $500 a plate you could get a decent drink at one of these things!" She finished the drink and asked for another.

Michael was irritated. "She should have gone out five minutes ago. What gives?" he muttered to Birkhoff.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a tolerance for the drug because of her alcoholism" theorized Birkhoff.

"I don't think so", declared Michael, "What's my option?"

"Madeline says carry out as a Valentine mission and switch the rings when she's asleep."

Michael steeled himself and returned to the sitting room with fresh drinks.

An hour later, the sated Senator rolled over on the Egyptian cotton sheets. Michael slid over to his clothes and removed the jewelry box from his pocket. He carefully slipped her engagement ring off her finger and placed it in his pocket. As he slid the copy onto her finger he heard a low growl.

"What's that, Birkhoff?"

"The Senator has a pet miniature poodle that she brings with her everywhere. It must be in the room somewhere." Out of nowhere, a ball of wool on springs leaped into the air and bit Michael squarely on his Armani covered ass.

As Walter watched Michael limp into Section at the conclusion of the mission, he smothered a smile. "What happened to the Rohypnol, Walter?" the wounded operative demanded.

"Madeline had me check after you called in with the problem. Turns out that our bottles were mislabeled. That really was aspirin that you gave the Senator. Lucky for us nobody had a headache around here last night."

As Michael limped off to Medlab for a tetanus shot, Walter smirked again. It was a far cry from the justice that his Sugar's death demanded, but it was a start.

The End



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