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Chapter 8
Michael sat quietly on the small deck behind the cabin. He seemed to be watching a pair of rabbits frolicking in the field but was really lost in thought. One leg bent up unto the edge of the chair with his elbow resting on it, the heel of his boot dug in to keep it from slipping. Idly he twirled a pencil between his fingers. A sketch pad laid across his thigh, a half finished picture of a woman with long hair, cuddling a baby. He was dressed casually, wearing blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt. He seemed a long way from the man who worked for a organization such as Section One.
He knew he was being watched, too. He hadn't heard the vehicle approach, it must have been parked down the lane. Let Greg make his presence known when he was ready. Right now Michael wanted to focus on what was going on in his head. Nikita's words from the other day had provoked a lot of thoughts. She had talked about acceptance and letting go. About not blaming himself. About how she felt about him and them. He thought she had changed a lot in the past four years....but it was beginning to seem she had changed even more in the past 6 months. Madeline had mentioned about her becoming more emotionally mature. And she had been right. That was what was happening and he felt lost in the wake. Her time away from him had been well spent. Time away from her had not been as good for him.
She was making progress and he was not. She was trying to drag him along though. And for all the stupidest reasons in the world he was kicking and screaming the whole time. An image of L' Araigne popped into his head. It wasn't the man who had terrified him as a child. It hadn't hit him then but now he realized the scar tissue that had mortified him when he first saw Philippe was gone. Well almost gone, only fine lines had stood out on his face and neck. Section One had done a good job on him. * Making him more palatable for the masses Operations?*
In his head, he heard the bastard laugh. "Coward" rung clearly in his ears. In anger, Michael pushed at the image. It fell back. He pushed again and again. It fell back farther and farther. The laughter was fading too. He imagined an open door and pushed L' Araigne through it. Michael slammed it shut and turned the key. He didn't hold much hope of it holding for long. It never did. Breathing heavily, he pulled out the key and jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you ok? Where have you been?" Greg moved in front of him, looking concerned. Michael smiled wanly. Wouldn't he just love to know?
"Had some things to take care of. Why? Worried I took off or something?" *That had been a little too harsh. Oh well.*
"Hey, I'm not your keeper. I was worried because of what I saw here the other night when you skipped out on me and Reese. Who is he, Michael?
Frowning, Michael sat forward and grabbed the white twill shirt that laid on the decking, straightening it out as he thought. *Damn it, he saw Operations here the other night. I thought someone was there . Now I know who. How much did you overhear that I need to lie about?*
"What, who did you....who are you talking about?" Confusion seemed the appropriate reaction. Made it seem more like he was hiding something.
"As I said I came looking for you. You were kinda freaked before you split. It took you a long time to get back here. I must have been here 4 or 5 times to see you. I knew he was waiting for you. I knew the way you looked shocked him a bit. It knocked me out of my shoes. You looked like you needed a fix or something."
Michael turned his back to Greg, shrugging into the shirt. *Come on...how much did you overhear?* "I never have and I never will."
"That's sort of what I thought."
"Things were a little too much for me. I was reeling. I had been faced with something I've avoid for a long time."
"Did Reese scare you that much?"
"Yeah." He paused trying to say the words without revealing everything but couldn't find the right ones. "Yeah, he did. I've stayed away from children for a long time because of the past. Believe it or not, he looks a lot like my own did. Reese is about the age he was too. Listen I reacted badly. It won't happen again." *I can't let it happen again.*
"Thank you for that explanation but that's not everything."
Feeling that he needed to see Greg to be able to maneuver the questioning he faced him. "What are you trying to say?" He keep his voice even but cautious at the same time. Michael keep his eyes focused on Greg; he needed to step carefully here.
"Who was the guy you were fighting with? He had you pretty upset. Not that you weren't already."
"A former employer. He wants me back, I'm not interested."
"Really? He doesn't take no for an answer very well."
"Yeah." Michael shifted uncomfortably and looked out to the field, waiting for Greg's next move. The fishing line was bobbing and Greg was picking at the bait. He sighed heavily.
"Damn it Michael! Look at me! What are you trying to hide? What the hell are you into? It can't just be stealing artwork and art forgery!!"
"I can't get you involved. You've got more important things to worry about. My troubles are not worth your time." *Come on Greg....make the move. It's laying there waiting.*
"Hey you're the closest friend I have Michael. I'm trusting you where I've never trusted anybody before except my wife. Hell! Robin doesn't even know where her pay comes from. And she's been with me for 8 years! I told you about Margeaux! You know exactly what kind of woman she was. No one gets that! My own mother doesn't even know! I don't know much about you...but there's something about you. You're real. But you're in something over your head. I want to help you. I have ways and people who can do that. Let me."
* Me real? I don't think so ..... but he's hooked....* "Stay out of it Greg! You don't know what you might get messed up with." *Pull the hook in a little more, guy. Come on.*
"I have contacts, Michael. I can hide you. Get rid of him. Bring her here for you."
Michael's head snapped around so his eyes could stare intently at the other man. He had overheard part of his and Operations' confrontation! "Her?"
"I heard what he said as he opened the door. Is there somebody you care about with him? Is he using her against you?"
"Damn...alright, in a way but it is also her choice. We've made a conscious decision to be apart. I'm not going to change my mind and neither is she. It's just something I have to come to terms with. Just another loss to heap in with the others."
"Can he hurt you? Will he hurt you?"
"He could but he won't. He knows better. He knows what I could do to him. He won't risk the consequences. He'd lose more than I would."
"Are you just saying that because you don't trust me or because you do."
"If you trust me Greg, then I trust you."
"We have an understanding then. Good, that makes me happy. If you need me, I'm there for you."
"Same here. Hey, come on in....I got something I want your opinion on."
"Sure." Greg threw an arm around Michael's shoulders and they went into the cottage. Michael felt a little relief but not much. *Hook, line and sinker as they say. But why doesn't it feel right?*
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"How long has she been at it?" Operations inquired as he came up behind Madeline and Simon. All three stood outside the exercise area and watched as Nikita methodically pounded away at a punching bag. She looked exhausted and about ready to collapse but still kept going. Her hair hung damply down her back and sweat stains were evident on her workout clothes. The tape on her knuckles was red. She hadn't bothered to wear gloves. The stains covered a large circle on the bag. It was obvious she had been at the bag long and hard.
Her face was expressionless and her eyes were blank but Madeline knew that something strong was playing behind them. Something that Nikita was trying to work out. Perhaps it was something to do with the child? She looked over at Simon. "About two hours, wouldn't you say, Simon?"
Simon stared intently at Nikita. He didn't like the way she was acting. Something big was bugging her. He didn't know what it was but it had him worried just the same. It had the potential to affect the team. Especially since with Michael in the field, she was in a sense the leader with him now as second in command. And with that came the responsibility of watching her back until Michael returned. He frowned and chewed on his lower lip for a moment more and then spoke. "A little over that by now."
"Rein her in then and calm her down before she hurts herself more or somebody else." Operations continued to watch her, his eyes looked a bit troubled. "Then I want you to assemble Red team. You're in command. Nikita will remain here. You'll be leaving in 3 hours. Be ready for an assault. You'll get the rest of the profile in route."
Simon nodded. "Understood." He seemed to ready himself and then went for Nikita. He was cautious though, she had been focused on the bag for a long time now, oblivious to her surroundings. Simon had worked with Michael for too long to ignore that red flag. He knew the signs from Michael doing it to him. She might turn on him without thinking. He wasn't worried about her hurting him. He was afraid she would hurt herself.
They watched Simon approach Nikita. "I take it you heard from Michael," Madeline asked quietly.
"Yes, it seemed my visit gave him the necessary push. Sequence 2 is active."
Simon walked around her so that the bag was in front of him. He tried to catch her eyes but there was no recognition in them. "Nikita? Nikita, it's time to stop." No response. "Nikita, I know you can hear me. Don't ignore me. Lay off for a while." There was still no reaction from her. He grabbed the bag and pulled it away from her. "I asked you to cool it."
At that Nikita stopped and raised her eyes to him. "Let it go!" She snarled at him. She was not in the mood to mess with him. There was too much rolling around in her head and in her heart. She was hurting for Michael and furious with herself. She was letting the Section get into her. She felt like she was starting to sell out, something she swore she would never do. It tasted bad and it felt even worse.
And then to see what Michael was experiencing. Being unable to help and powerless to stop it. Actually telling him to accept something they were pushing for. It cut deep and made her feel completely helpless.
"Let...it....go!" Her words demanded obedience.
"You're bleeding all over the bag. Back down for a while and get some medical attention for your hands. You can't run the team in heavy bandages. Besides Operations wants you to stop And I don't think he's kidding either."
Simon pointed over to the glass and Nikita followed his hand. She locked eyes with the man behind the glass. Slowly she lowered her arms and started to move towards Operations.
He followed her with his eyes, shifting himself so that he was between her and Madeline. She stopped not far from him. The look on her face only gave weight to her words. "You heartless son of a bitch. I'll make you pay for this...one way or another."
His own face void of emotion, he replied to her coolly. "Why? What did I do now that has you throwing threats my way?" He paused and then nodded understandingly. "Oh wait, don't bother to tell me. He came to you, didn't he?"
Madeline had moved from behind so that she was now even with both of them. She didn't like how pale Nikita was or how shallowly she was breathing. She also noticed the slight quivering that Nikita was trying to suppress. Madeline knew the girl wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor. But much to her credit or stupidity, Madeline couldn't decide which, she held her ground.
"Why didn't you tell him? Prepare him?" Nikita felt her legs getting shaky. She didn't know if it was from exertion or fear for Michael at this point. All she wanted was an explanation for why he had hurt Michael the way he did. "What did he do to deserve this? Why do you keep beating on him? Hasn't he been through enough?"
"He knows what his job is. He takes what comes with it. His feelings and emotions are secondary. Better yet, not a consideration at all. Just as yours should be."
"His son...."
"Doesn't matter here." Operations stayed cool. He felt some satisfaction with the outcome so far. Michael hadn't told her about her upcoming role in this. Had he done that because he had been told or was it because he was too caught up in his own maelstrom to start hers? Hopefully her concentration would be on him and through him on the child. The consequences of dealing so far with the child for Michael were another area for concern though. The reaction had been bad, much worse than he thought it was going to be.
Michael still grieved. It made Operations again consider the possibility of finding some other way to achieve the objective. But he had traveled this path before and he could find no other way through it.
Michael's reaction also made him reconsider his decisions. His aim had been to off balance and make them well desperate to do anything they had to..... not to destroy them, as seemed to be happening. Oscar had not expected him to go to Nikita so soon. The man was trying to center himself, find a focus.
Maybe Madeline had been right. But in order to eradicate the poison, didn't you have to make a wound some-times? Bleed a little to clean it out. The trick was not to hemorrhage.
Nikita brought up her fist. Madeline grabbed her upraised forearm and held on tightly. She moved between the two of them. She could feel Nikita tensing to shove her away so she reacted first. There was a need to protect her because right now she was the only one Michael trusted. Nikita in turn would be the one to protect him from whatever was coming their way. She started to move forwards, putting distance between Nikita and Operations.
"Please Oscar..." she said with a tone of warning. With a snort, he walked around them and down the hall.
As he moved away from them, Nikita shook off Madeline and dropped her arm. With a shallow scream, she slapped at the glass. Leaning her forehead against the glass, she peered unblinkingly across the exercise room, trembling. "He doesn't care. Not one little bit. He's blind to it."
"That's not true Nikita. He cares a lot. He bothered him a great deal when Michael and Simone lost the baby. He grieved too. But he knew there was nothing that could have been done. That life had to go on. That's why he pushed Michael. He wanted him to keep going."
With eyes full of hurt, Nikita lifted her head to look at Madeline. "He needed time to grieve. He never got it, Madeline. He's never gotten it. He hasn't accepted any of their deaths. He never moved on completely. He just changed lanes!"
"The fault is not all Operations."
"No, you probably helped in it too."
"Maybe.... no, I did. But Michael must take some of the blame himself. They are his feelings. He is responsible for them. But before you jump on me for that, there is something about this you don't know. Something he has denied from the start. Simone, and I hate to speak ill of her, but she has fault here too. Perhaps more than any of us."
"What are you talking about?"
"Merle was sick, Nikita. He got sick right after Michael left on that mission. She let it go for a while. By the time she figured out she couldn't handle it, no one else could either."
"That's not what Christine said. She said he kept collapsing or something like that."
"I know. That is what happened. It happened because no one recognize what he had at first. But it masks itself. It can seem like it is so many different things. It is easily misdiagnosed."
"Just stop being so cryptic. What killed the baby? What did he have?"
"Merle had Reyes Syndrome. He didn't get treatment soon enough. There was no way to save him. Christine never had a chance but that didn't stop her from trying everything she could think of. I've never seen a doctor work so hard. They actually had to pull her away and out of the room. I've never seen a doctor cry so hard either. I think she was more upset than Simone. At least that was what it seemed then."
"And Michael knows this?"
"Yes, he knows but I think he believes if he had been here he would have been able to do something. Perhaps even been able to stop it from happening. Simone was shattered. Just as Michael was. There was a gulf between them that was sad to see. Then there was the mission she 'died' on. Neither of them should have been on it. I requested time for each of them. I was overruled. Well you know the result. I know he's never dealt with any of it completely. I thought perhaps after Elouette there would be a chance."
"But he built it right back up again." Nikita said softly, the fight seeming to have drained out of her. Madeline nodded solemnly. "He needs to deal with it. He needs to sort it all out. He can't go on like he used to. He explodes. You've seen that. I hate to say this....no I can't say it." She turned and made a brushing off motion as she moved away from Madeline who grabbed at her arm. "Leave me alone Madeline. Just leave me alone, please." Her voice was hoarse with held back emotions.
"You were going to say he's going to jeopardize a mission." Madeline watched as Nikita started to shake her head no and then looked miserably at her. "You can't make it better for him, Nikita. He has to do it himself."
"No he can't, he won't. I need to help him to do it."
"How do you expect to make him better, help he deal with things when you refuse to face your own?" Immediately, Madeline felt Nikita draw into herself and away from the conversation. But she refused to give up and let the girl walk away. "You have your own issues and guilt to deal with. Your own loss....maybe you should start there."
Nikita looked at Madeline with almost a pitying gaze. "You're telling me to deal with my guilt. That's funny coming from the queen of it herself. Take your own advice, doctor of the psyche. Heal thyself!" She snatched her arm away from Madeline's suddenly lax fingers and strode down the hall. The only issue she had to deal with where Katie was concerned was being unable to be a mother to her. At least that was what she tried to tell herself.
Madeline slowly lowered her gaze from Nikita's retreating back to the floor. *The queen of guilt....is that how I'm seen around here? Or is that just her lashing out? Deflecting the attention from herself so she can fade into the background?* "Nikita one can only heal if the wounds stop happening. I haven't found the cure for that yet".
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Simon looked each one of the 5 team members in the eye. None were happy about the profile. Not a single one of them wanted to go up against Michael. He knew that there would not be one among them that would admit to being afraid of the man who usually led them. But he knew that it was there. He could sense it. He harboured some of it himself.
Clearing his throat, he started to talk. "I'm not anymore thrilled about this than the rest of you are. To some extent this will be a surprise engagement. Michael knows that this is coming but he is not sure when. He will fight back. He has to, this has to look real. I don't think he will hold back. He will probably not expect any of you to either. Michael has to go down. I'm going to stress this as strongly as I can though. Do not maim him or kill him. That is not our aim. I know it sounds really out there but those are our orders."
An operative off to the side spoke up. "Come on Si...this is Michael. One of us is supposed to bring him down? How the hell are we going to do that without maiming or killing him? That man is a machine. You can't stop him."
Slamming a hand against the wall he leaned on caused the whole group to jump. "You know I'm tired of hearing that little sound byte. He's flesh and blood just like we all are. And before the next part of that comes out....he does feel pain too. He just knows how to control it. Anyway... would you offer an excuse to Michael like that?" There was a shaking of heads. "What about to Nikita? Then why me?"
There was more shaking but it was not followed by silence as the first one was. Mullin spoke up. "No, because if she was leading we wouldn't be doing it this way. And for that matter too with Michael. Hey you know, nothing against you pal. I'd lay my life down for you without blinking an eye. But this ain't right!"
"Do you wonder then why Pri...Nikita isn't leading us? Because it needs to go down like this. Besides, she's needed for the next part of the mission and we can't risk her getting hurt. To get the end result we're looking for, it has to go this way. If there's any of you who think that he or she can't do the job, I urge you to consider the outcome when you return to the Section. Any questions?"
Silence held this time as they all exchanged looks. Simon rubbing his hands together, staring at them. They felt dirty just like he felt giving a 'pep' talk like that. He didn't think he'd was going to be able to do the job himself. He was glad Nikita was not here to witness what was about to happen. He hoped he could explain it when they got back to Section One. She was going to want one.
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Chapter 9
Though it had started out rainy, it actually had turned out to be a sunny day. Michael was surprised how quickly it had cleared as well as had gotten warmer. In fact it was down right muggy. Scratching the back of his neck, he pulled off his outer shirt so that he only wore a blue t-shirt with his khaki pants. Reluctantly he got out of the air conditioned car. He looked up at the sky. It was clear and blue. "Today is only going to get worse. I am definitely not looking forward to it."
Reaching the front door, he rang the bell and leaned against the side of the house, staring out at the field. A movement caught his eye. Instinct rose up in him and he tensed. "Stupid, it's probably a deer or something." He turned as he heard the door open. He was greeted with the sound of Reese crying at the top of his lungs and Robin looking haggard and worn. He was instantly worried. "Hi....everything ok Robin?"
She tried to get her hair in some semblance of order but it fell back down. "Sort of. I'm sorry...Mr . Louis but Mr. Linsdon isn't home."
Reese continued to cry and to Michael, he seemed to be getting more and more upset. "Oh..... umm first of all it's Michael, and do you know when he'll be back? I was looking to find out if he wanted to do some targeting or something."
She sighed heavily, "Soon I hope. He's been gone for 2 days and Reese has been terrible to deal with. He won't sleep. He won't eat. He's constantly crying. He's running me ragged."
"Would you like some help?"
"Mr. Lou...I mean Michael...that wouldn't be right to ask that of you."
"I'm offering, so how could you be asking? I think you could use a break. I can go up and get him calmed down. You get yourself some peace and quiet."
A genuine smile lit up her face. "Thank you." She opened the door wider so he could come in. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
"OK." He trotted up the stairs and then stopped. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. He set his shoulders. It was time to get over this fear. Especially if he and Nikita were to be together in the future. Pushing away the cramping in his stomach, he ducked his head into the room. Reese stood in his crib, hands gripping the railing. His face was red and tear streaked. He stopped in mid-scream as he saw Michael.
"Hey there...what's wrong?" Michael asked calmly as he entered the room. So far he didn't feel as shaky as he had the past couple of times he had seen Reese. Greg had made sure he got used to him but this was the first time alone. This would have been easier with Greg downstairs, but he wasn't.
Reese looked at him with huge eyes leaking tears. He thrust his arms out, sniffing. "Mi..Mi."
A smile crossed Michael's face as he picked him up. The attempt to say his name had started a couple of days ago. Michael had to admit it felt good.
Reese threw his head into the curve of Michael's shoulder, his thumb securely anchored in his mouth. His other hand curled tightly into the fabric of Michael's shirt. The little boy was finally silent. He laid his cheek against the small head. "You feel warm, nounours. I think.." He stopped for a moment swallowing hard, thinking of his own son and how that nickname had fit him. The memories associated with that word were strong. With them he heard Nikita's words ring in his ears *"....not Merle. He can't be."*
Michael pushed away the thought. Impulsively he hugged Reese, the good feeling spread. Then he said, "Ok. I think I got the ticket here, Reese. The only reason you won't eat is cause it hurts. You've got some teeth coming in. That's all. We're going to go downstairs and see if maybe we can find some ice cream. If not, then some shaved or crushed ice with juice on it. Something cold and sweet. Make you feel a little better maybe then you'll get some sleep. Sound good to you?" Reese's only reply was to sniff and snuggle in closer.
They started down the stairs. "I know teeth seem like a pain but they really do come in handy. Besides the girls like a nice smile. Helps with the rough spots in those sandbox romances." Reese's response was a small grunt. Michael laughed a little. "So you don't believe me now. Well I can't say I've had much experience with sandbox romances myself but I bet if you check with your..."
Sounds from the kitchen caught his attention. He stopped outside the kitchen door, listening carefully. He could just make out the voices in there. Robin's voice was a frightened harsh whisper. "I don't know what you want but please ..."
Another voice cut her off. "Shut up. Where is he?"
"He's not here."
"Don't lie to me!"
Michael could hear the strain increase in Robin's voice which also got louder. "He's not here. He's out of town." Looking in the crack between the door and the doorjamb, he could see Robin backed against the sink. In front of her was a man dressed in black hooded garb and holding a gun to her face.
Michael's heart sank and hammered in his chest violently as he leaned his back into the wall. *Not now! Not with the boy here! Merde!* His head was working at a frantic pace. The mission and his own safety were the least of his worries. Keeping Reese from harm was his top priority. He looked down into the green eyes that were looking back up at him. He shifted Reese up higher so that their eyes were level. In a whisper he said, "I know you don't like her, but work with me here." Licking dry lips, he called out, "Hey Robin! Can you come here for a moment. I need a hand."
Robin almost burst through the door. Her eyes were wide and full of fear. She started to make a motion to the kitchen. Michael put up a hand and nodded. He handed Reese to her and then pointed his own finger like a gun at her. "Boy, that was quick. Do you know where Greg might have the phone book. Reese is a little warm and..."
Shakily Robin lead him to a desk a little ways down the hall. "Right here...Mi...Michael." She tugged up the top on the roll top desk and pointed at a drawer. Michael grabbed the handle and pulled. It was locked. Gritting his teeth, he slammed his fist against it. The front of the drawer cracked and part of it fell off. He winced at the noise, casting a look at the kitchen door. No movement yet....good. He reached in and pulled out a 9mm and a clip. He leaned into Robin's ear. She was shaking as if chilled through.
He pushed her towards the corner of the stairs. His intention to get them to a door and out of the house. Suddenly he heard glass breaking in the direction of the media room. And the muzzle of the gun from the man in the kitchen started to push through the door. Robin tore up the stairs with Reese in her arms. "Robin!" Michael hissed, but in her flight she didn't hear. He only prayed that at the moment they were all downstairs. Mercifully Reese had remained silent so anyone down here would not know which way they had gone. Even though she was panicked, Robin had run up the stairs quietly. The carpeting had been an effective muffler.
He leaned back against the wall, holding the gun between both hands. Now the worry tried to hit. He took a deep breath as he settled himself into mission mode. He put all emotions from his head. He clamped down, it was time to work. The man finished coming out the door and moved in the other direction, away from Michael without once looking the other way. Rolling his eyes, he cursed to himself. * Idiot! You should know better! Sloppiness kills you.*
He inched forward and placed the gun against the intruder's skull. "Drop it and turn." As instructed, the figure turned. Their eyes meet and even in the hood, Michael knew he was looking at Mullin.
Eyes narrowing in anger, he lowered the gun. Mullin back off a pace, a gun coming up defensively. Michael shook his head. Hissing through his teeth he said, "You ought to know better."
The comment was not lost on Mullin. He knew he had screwed up. It had been deliberate too. He had feared that Michael had the kid with him. He didn't want to endanger the brat and now he'd gone and endangered himself . He tried to avoid the kick he saw coming but wasn't quick enough. Michael's boot caught him in the chin. His head snapped backwards and he dropped like a stone to the floor. Michael spun, sensing the next one behind him.
He fired once, hitting the person. Judging by the body shape and what he could see of the eyes, he knew it was Pollins. The shoulder wound would keep her down for a while, considering how close she had been. Pollins recognized his look through her pain and the threat of losing consciousness. She saw Michael begin to move down the hall. She said just loud enough for her com unit to pick her up. "He's active and armed. Mullin and I are down. Be careful."
Being in the hallway confined him and led to more possibilities of his team members being hurt. He had to get to someplace with more space. Stealthily he moved down the hall. It was silent but he knew not to trust it. More laid ahead, he was positive of that. He sensed the movement behind him before he heard the whimper. Slowly turning he saw Robin moving backwards towards him with another operative before her. She had a hand against Reese's head holding him as close and as tightly as she could. Reese was wiggling and getting angered over the restraint.
Michael reached out and grabbed Robin around the waist and pulled her to him. He stepped in front of her still keeping a grip on her. He felt two hands dig into the fabric of his shirt. One was adult sized and shook with fear. The other was small and dug like a dog at a hole. "Mi... Mi." Reese pleaded. Michael struggled to keep his focus on dealing with the operatives he had left.
He made a mental list of those on the team he had already encountered. *Mullin, Pollins* Facing him now was Billie....* that leaves Simon, Martin, Yerlie and ...Nikita.* He stiffened at the thought of her as a figure came to the front of him too quickly for him to totally react and move. He had been slowed by his thoughts. This one used a rifle as a club and first rammed Michael in the stomach and the chest and then the weapon was thrust violently into his ribs. He was on his knees trying to suck air into his lungs as he heard the front door slam open and then saw the gun coming down towards his head. He heard the twin screams come from Reese and Robin.
Michael snapped, the machine was gone. He was now fighting as a man protecting a child. His only thought was to get Reese out of the house and safe. Not that this was a mission. Not that his fellow team members were going to be hurt. At this point it was not even something in the back of his mind. Everything was centered on the boy. At all costs he had to be kept safe.
*Got to get my son out of here.* Panic was churning in his stomach. Pain and fear were mixing with it. Instincts took over and that's when hell broke loose. His arm sliced through the air as he forced himself to his feet. He caught Billie flush in the face and kicked as he staggered to the side. His foot landed in Billie's rib cage and several give. Billie cried out and fell to the floor. Moving quickly and pushing Robin and the baby before him, he tried to get them to the door on the other side of the living room. He saw the person blocking the way. He raised his weapon aiming between the eyes.
"MOVE!!"
"MICHAEL!!" He heard the shout and vaguely recognized it. He ignored it though. Til the report of a gun came from the area of the front door. There was little sense of reality for Michael at that point. He saw the wound explode in the middle of Martin's chest and his crumbling to the floor. Michael was close enough to him to cringe. Not from the shot as it looked but some feeling of regret that he couldn't place and didn't care about either. He lashed out at the next figure in his line of vision. He felt the blow to his ribs and the way they gave. He placed an arm around his side trying to smother the pain. It made him light headed but he caught his balance before he fell backwards. With his free hand he started swinging the semi automatic he had somehow picked up from the floor....
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Operations listened with grim determination to the progress of the sequence. He knew Michael was slowing. He'd been hurt but damn the man's foolish pig headed stubborn streak, refused to go down. He was fighting as if he was protecting his own. It was what Operations had wanted but not so that it killed the best operative he had. If that happened, he would lose Nikita, the rest of Section and the future too.
He could hear something in Simon's orders also. Simon was giving Michael leeway and time to react. "Follow sequence Simon. No variation." He demanded sternly, leaving no room for argument or further disregard. He heard Simon's groan and the order to fire at Michael. To wing him and bring him down, but leave the mark unaffected.
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Yerlie aimed at Michael. She was going for his upper arm. Knock him off balance enough for Mullin to finish getting to his feet from where Michael had knocked him down again and get the job done. She felt the hot brand through her neck and at first didn't know what it was. It was her last thought as she pitched over through the glass door.
His head was screaming at him to move.....to get the baby safe...... This wasn't worth it. But he had no control here. This was total insanity. Why were they trying to kill him and hurt the baby? He never saw the figure launch itself at him. He only heard a cry from Reese. The tackle propelled him through the bay window and out to the porch floor. He didn't know who hit him. He only knew it hurt to breathe and move. His head bounced on the wood and the world swum around him.
"Give it up. Let it end." He heard Simon's harsh whispers but couldn't do it. Simon prayed the com unit was off as he hoped. He didn't want Operations to hear what was going down. He had seen Michael snap and knew he was no longer fulfilling a role. Michael was protect something important. And Simon had a good idea who it was.
"Not going to let you hurt my son again." The words were slurred but Simon understood them.
Now he knew for sure what was going on in Michael's head. Simon had seen the baby and knew how closely he resembled Merle. *What the hell is going on?* He was fighting for one thing and it was not the mission. Michael fought as a man possessed. He had to fight to protect the baby inside. Thoughts of Reese/Merle flooded his head. Simon and Michael traded blows, each struggling to their feet. Each one blocking the other as they struggled on the porch. With a howl of fury, Michael struck out at Simon, his flattened palm connecting with the face near his. He was for some reason deathly afraid that the baby was going to be hurt. If he kept their attention, that wouldn't happen.
Simon tried to avoid the blow as much as possible but still caught it. He felt the pain as his nose broke. He has sensed the change in Michael's fighting. The desperate edge to it suddenly. The increase in the number of body blows. He could tell that for all the wrong reasons, his friend had become afraid. Michael was no longer fighting like a trained operative. He had resorted to any moves he knew, trying to overcome Simon.
The goal here was to stop Michael. Simon let his instincts work for him so he didn't have to think about what he had to do. He reacted to the pain from the blow first. He slammed a fist into Michael's chest and another into his ribcage. Hoping he would drop from the pain. He heard the whoosh of air and the groan of pain from the man who had trained him. Then he backhanded Michael across his jaw.
Michael's head jerked back and he staggered to one knee. Simon didn't have a chance to say or do anything before the chair in Greg's upraised arms came down on his back. He started to fall forwards, almost on top of Michael.
With an effort that only could come from the instinct to protect, Michael force himself to move and grab at Simon. He missed as Simon twisted and managed to catch the chair in Greg's hands. Simon and Greg struggled for a second. The Section operative was able to rip the piece of furniture from the man and use it against him. Greg and the chair ended on the porch floor in a heap.
Michael was back on his feet. He swayed as he faced Simon and caught the front of his clothing in his fists. His lip was split and his nose was bleeding. Simon locked eyes with him and didn't try to pull away.
"He's not Merle." Simon whispered fervently. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Greg was starting to move. The job has to be completed. But Simon didn't have the heart. Whatever this mission was, Michael was in over his head. He started to back up, trying to push him off.
The words sliced into Michael. Some sense of reality seemed to be sinking into him. Through the swelling of the split lip, Michael ordered, "You were given a job. Do it. Take me down." His voice was barely above a whisper. Simon pleaded with his eyes. He didn't want to hurt Michael anymore than he already had. This wasn't right. There should have been another way. He was bold enough to shake his head at Michael. With a scream, the man whose side he had been at for over 5 years propelled him forwards and slammed into Simon into the wall of the house. There was no choice. He let loose with a short upper cut and connected solidly with Michael's chin. His friend crumbled to the ground without a sound, except for the thud as he hit the wooden porch.
Checking on the slowly waking Greg, Simon gave the order to retreat. Sequence two was done. And he wanted somewhere to collapse in peace and curse himself. He staggered away to the sounds of both Reese screaming and Robin crying.
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Greg pulled himself up to his feet by using the railing. Michael laid face down on the porch, still and silent. The only sound was Reese's almost hysterical screams from the living room. He wove into the broken window, dizzy from the blow and the shock of the attack. Robin was trying to comfort the baby, crying herself. He tried to take the boy from Robin but Reese flailed at him. His screams louder and more upset. Then he realized the word that keep tumbling out of Reese's mouth.
Robin only confirmed it for him. "He doesn't want you. Reese is fine. He just wants Michael. Please check on him." Greg was astonished. Reese had never refused his touch before. It didn't hurt but it was annoying and made him a little jealous. *You always wanted your mother more than me anyway.* he thought sourly. Unsteadily, he moved back to the window and the now semiconsciousness form on the porch. He owed Michael for protecting Reese.
He just hoped he was going to be able to tell him. The jealousy gnawed at him. Here he was responsible for the boy and he wanted someone else. *Ungrateful little bast...* Greg stopped the thought...it wasn't fair to Margeaux's memory.
As he got close to Michael, he saw that he definitely was coming around. Michael was moaning. Greg could just make out his words.
"Nikita....mon...Merle...fils.....'kita." Getting to his knees he rolled Michael over and grimaced at the way his face looked. Slowly the eyes opened and peered up at him.
If Michael didn't end up with two black eyes, Greg would be shocked. Michael gagged and coughed, then tried to take a deep breath. He drew his legs up in reaction to the stabbing feeling in his side. "Help....me...up," he managed to get out. He shook his head trying to clear the roaring out of his ears but only got dizzy. And then throbbing started in his head as he rolled over to try and get to his hands and knees.
Greg got himself up right and then he got Michael to his feet. He steadied him until Michael seemed able to stand on his own. Swallowing hard Michael hoarsely asked, "Why is he crying so hard? Is he ok?" He pushed himself away from Greg and moved slowly inside, holding his stomach. Robin was on the couch staring at the spot of blood on the rug, the tears now stopped. Reese sat on her lap, screaming, crying and kicking his feet and smacking at the arm of the couch. He saw Michael and his arms went up. Biting back the earlier jealousy and now a bit of rivalry, Greg watched the actions between his friend and the boy
Michael picked him up off Robin's lap and held him close. Reese's screams stopped and his crying ebbed to hiccups. He clutched at the cloth of the shirt, hiding his face against Michael's chest. Gently Michael stroked Reese's back, his cheek against the back of the baby's head. The same position they had shared just a few minutes before.
He hugged the little boy. Relief flooding him that he was unharmed. Almost inaudibly he said, "D'ac, nounours, d'ac, papa....." He felt Greg's eyes burning into the back of his head and he turned to him. Michael could see how uncomfortable Greg was and then realized what he had been about to say.
It would have been deadly wrong. "Go to your papa." He handed Reese over to his father.
Reese went peacefully, laying his head limply on his father's chest. Greg found the look in Michael's eyes hard to decipher. It was almost a longing but there was something else mixed with it. Was it regret? Or the loss of hope? He just wasn't sure. Greg knew he didn't like how pale Michael was getting. He knew he was about to fall to the floor. "Robin, take Reese up to his room and stay with him please." Without a word, Robin took the now very quiet child and slipped from the room.
Lowering himself carefully to the couch, Michael leaned against the cushions and then tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Silently he assessed how he had been hurt and where. Nothing needed attention except his ribs. The blow there had been deliberate. Its aim had been to stop him. They were the same ones broken six months ago in the explosion. He didn't have to look to know that they were badly bruised if not fractured again.
"Thank you for what you did. I think you saved his life." Greg knew Michael was in pain and he wanted him to know that his actions had not been in vain. They held more value to Greg than anything else. He was truly grateful and meant what he said.
"No thanks are needed. I'm just very happy all of you are ok." He opened his eyes and brought his head back up. "You don't have any security here do you?" Grimly he watched Greg shake his head. "Why? With your line of work? Are you out of your mind?"
"Margeaux didn't want Reese to be subjected to that kind of life."
Michael looked at him incredulously. "What the hell was this then? He was terrified!"
"For you!"
"I'm just a momentary focal point for him. He'll forget about it." *God I hope he does. No child should have to go through this kind of terror. This is all your fault Greg. You and your wife's. How can you do this to him? He's just a baby. You're suppose to love and protect him!*
Michael struggled against the sudden but strong anger he felt towards Greg. He couldn't fully explain it. He didn't know where it was coming from. He just knew it was there. He grimaced. Maybe it was really anger at himself for allowing this to play out in the first place.
Seeing the look, Greg asked, "Do you need a doctor?" Michael shook his head. He didn't trust anyone but Christine in that respect. "Who's Nikita and Merle?"
"Merle was my son."
"I heard you say 'son'. I thought that who he was. Nikita was his mother? I thought you said your wife was named Simone."
"No...yes." Michael's answer was short. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to talk. It even hurt to think. He slammed the door shut on the loneliness that reared up at the sound of her name. Along with a bittersweet memory of Simone. The room swayed in front of him. He forced himself not to give in to what his body was begging for. All he wanted to do was sink into darkness and wait til Nikita came to him. Maybe if he spent some time in her arms, all this would go away. The past few months would go away too and all that would be left was them and what they felt. There would be no more past, just peace. He closed his eyes, trying to keep from becoming overcome by his emotions and memories again.
"Nikita's the woman he was talking about, isn't she? The one you can't be with." Numbly Michael nodded and then leaned back against the cushions again. He had created a problem now. Greg knew more about them and about him. Also Nikita couldn't come into the profile under her own name. She'd have to go by another. Not that he even wanted her involved in this fiasco but he had no control at all in this right now. Somehow he had to find it. He couldn't keep spinning in circles and bouncing off walls the way he was.
"You need protection Greg. I'm not going to do it. You've got to protect that little boy. You can not let anything happen to him."
"I don't intend for anything to happen to him."
"Yeah, and I didn't intend to come here today and get the shit kicked out of me either!" Michael snapped back at him.
"I'm sor..."
"You should be, damn it!" Michael struggled to his feet. He just wanted to get away from here. He figured with the way he felt at the moment it would be a good thing to do. He didn't want to get into a fight with Greg. He just wanted to lay his head down and go to sleep with gentle fingers soothing away the pain. Just like they had the other night. He craved that peace and comfort. He needed it but he knew that was impossible under the current circumstances. That fact hurt almost as much as his body. Physically he wondered how much more he could take. He knew he was already at the edge emotionally, could the rest be far behind? Slowly he walked to the front door.
"Reese has gotten very attached to you. And I think you gotten attached to him." Michael stopped at Greg's words. His heart was in his throat and pounding wildly in his chest at the same time. What was going to happened now?
"And why do you feel that you need to comment on that? How is it pertinent to what we were just discussing?"
Greg took a deep breath. For the past two days he felt like a dark cloud had been hovering over his head. The feeling of dread he had just wouldn't release him. He knew he needed to plan for the future, for Reese's future....just in case something were to happen. "Could you love Reese as your own son?"
Michael pivoted around, his eyes wide. Astonishment plain on his face. "WHAT?"
"If something were to happen to me, would you take care of him? Could you be a father to him, Michael?"
He stared at Greg. His face seemed to be set in stone. Wearily he lowered his head. He had not even dreamed about what he was hearing. He hadn't allowed himself to even imagine it. It would have only eaten at him. And now to actually have Greg give voice to something Michael had forbidden himself to consciously think about. Things had suddenly become unreal. But there was no way he could say no. He didn't have the strength or the will.
"Yes...if you want me to. But why?"
"I've been trying for the past two days to get out of my way of life. Today was the result of those talks. This was a warning, Michael. I may not be able to get out. I might have to forfeit something. I swear it will not be Margeaux's son. Promise me you'll do it. I'm committing like the ultimate act of trust here. I'm putting that boy's life and future in your hands. What you did today proves to me that I can do this."
Michael squeezed his eyes shut tightly to stop the sudden wave of tears in his eyes. * This wasn't because of what you've been trying to do. It's all part of one big payback. Lord, I can not sink any lower than this. I just confirmed my reservation in hell..I'm not who you think I am Greg. I never will be.*
End of Part 4
continue on to Bitter Refrain, Part 5
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