Fait Accompli IV

written by Tammy

Chapter 7

Nikita's eyes snapped open as she felt the sway of the car. Michael looked over at her quickly as he switched lanes. "How's the head?"

"Still hurts." She rubbed her temples as she sighed.

"We're a block away. Once we duck in, why don't you go right to Medlab? I don't like how fast that headache came up. It's the fourth one in the past two weeks. I think it's connected with the accident."

"It's tension. If you would listen to me about this..."

"I said no. And that's all I'm going to say."

"It's not your decision. It's about my life and my daughter. It's about my family. Damn it, Michael! I don't even know who my father was!" Nikita crossed her arms across her chest and stared out the window.

"When are we going to stop with the 'my' stuff? I thought we agreed to something at Cala?"

"I agreed to try. That was all.....just going to see how she is won't hurt anything. She won't recognize me. I doubt there is anything left in her...."

"Nikita...."

"I need to know, Michael. Katie's questions stirred a lot of my own. I want to know for myself. You say how L' Araigne made you and Section perfected you, right? Well, Section has dabbled with me a little but my parents or lack there of and Taylor made me. I want to know more abut these people." She looked over at him. He looked steadily out the windshield, jaw tight and eyes hard. He was adamant about her not digging into anything to do with her parents or Taylor. But there would be a day she might need to know or that Katie might need to know something. Nikita wanted some answers to the whys in her head.

"I made myself clear. I just want you to do as I said. And no arguments about any of it, understand?" His voice said no nonsense and so did his face. If Nikita had the energy, she would have stuck her tongue out at him. But she was exhausted, he was fighting her hard on this and the 'my' versus 'our' issue. And last night hadn't helped either, she had stayed awake for most of it, watching him sleep between Reese and Katie. Reese had been in his usual spot but had gotten annoyed at Katie's intrusion of his space. He managed somehow to climb up unto Michael's chest and got comfortable there. Katie curled up next to him and for a while Nikita had lain beside them.

Afraid her restlessness would disturb them though, she had gotten up and sat in the large wing-back chair next to the bed. For hours she had sat there, just watching them. She had known exactly when Michael started to dream. But they were gentle dreams for once, as evidenced by the smile that appeared occasionally on his face. Thankful that he was at least at peace, she had leaned her head to the side of the chair, thinking about past, present and future.

Looking over at Nikita as he stopped the car, he could tell she was deep in thought. He wished he could tell her to go and find out about her mother. Even to find out who her father was. He was worried not only about what she might find but what Section would do if they knew she was looking. When Madeline had caught him looking for Paige before, the reprimand had been strong. He had to work hard to get himself out of abeyance. He didn't want her to suffer that again. Michael took an inaudible deep breath. Coming back here was not what he wanted to do. Setting himself back into his Section frame of mind, he turned off the ignition.

The sounds of the car being turned off dragged Nikita back out of her thoughts. She looked over at Michael who sat staring straight ahead. They sat in the alley way that ran behind the museum. It was starting to spit snow and the light of day seemed dimmer by the second. "Are you ready?" she whispered.

"No," was all he said. He took off his gloves and removed the ring. "Back to reality," his voice soft and sad. He reached in and put it in the inner pocket of his long black coat. Looking over at her, Nikita repressed the urge to shiver. The 'alive' look that had been on his face and in his eyes for the past two weeks was gone. There instead was that look that said Section. She reached out and draw a line with her finger along his cheek, looking into his eyes. "Have to split in two," he said, "Only way to do this."

Nodding and dropping her hand, she pulled off her own glove and slid the ring off her finger. "I know." With a deep sigh, she pushed it into the pocket of her jeans. Michael caught her hand as she reached for her glove on the dash. "What?"

The Section skin was ill fitting still, he needed some more time for it to adjust before he went in. That meant he could take the time to tell her something he had been debating even saying. He was unsure of the reaction. "I want you back home."

"Michael...."

"We can at least be ourselves there in some shape or form. It will help to make this tolerable. Don't you think?" She detected not only the coaxing tone in his voice but the sadness that was deepening into it too.

"We'll see."

"Having you sleep next to me keeps the dreams away." The almost wistful quality in the way he said that made her look up at him from their hands.

With a half smile she said, "You sound just like Reese. You've been around him too much." He let go of her hand and raised it to her face, moving closer. "They can see us," she warned.

"Infra red this far down the alley. Besides, we're not a secret anymore." He kissed her gently. "I love you and I want you there. With me. Safe. OK?" Michael made her agree by nodding her head for her. He kissed her again, this time the kiss was longer and more intense. Reluctantly he stopped and leaned his forehead against hers. "Ready?" he whispered.

"Yeah." Together they got out of the car and started up the alley. Their motion triggered the alley lights and the cameras.

In Ops, Birkoff's head came up from his keyboard. Section One was running silent. No one called in from the outside because Operations had ordered him to run a systems message that they had a mainframe problem and other areas were handling the load. It had become an occasional problem with the amount they carried constantly so it didn't seem out of the ordinary. But what he saw on the one of the perimeter cameras caused his heart to beat faster.

Michael and Nikita were coming up to the steel door that was a back entrance into Section. He obviously wanted to slip himself and Nikita in quietly. Perhaps even go directly to Operations' office. One of the guards behind him flew off the platform and towards Walter's alcove. Within seconds, he came back out with Jon in tow. Guards were already flying down the hall, probably in route to meet Michael and Nikita.

"This is what I want you to do. Separate them." Birkoff looked up at Jon, opening his mouth to say no. "Don't even think about refusing. You don't want to consider the consequences." The threat was so strong in his voice that Birkoff closed his mouth. If anybody was going to get them out of this then Michael was going to be the one to orchestrate it.

They silently watched Michael punch a code into the keypad near the door and press his palm against it. The two of them entered and the interior mikes and cameras picked up their passage. Jon waited expectantly, hoping for some clue as to Reese's possible location.

"How do you think she did? I haven't seen the prelims."

Michael shrugged in response to Nikita's question. "What I saw were OK. She has a problem with response in scenarios though."

"Wound never kill. I know. It's because of the respect she has for Ronnie's memory. And Ronnie didn't believe in killing. For any reason.....she doesn't like the acting part either. Really squeamish about making a mark. I can't get in enough to know why. " Nikita shook her head as they walked along the ramp. "Any ideas?"

"Get rid of the impulse."

Stopping she rolled her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips. "I'm looking for suggestions, oh wise one!"

"Threats worked with you." Michael said simply.

"She's not me." They stopped at an intersection. Michael looked around with a slightly puzzled expression before he brought his eyes back to her.

"I know she's not.... stop in my office after you see Christine." Nikita started to sputter but Michael held up his hand. "It's not open for debate. I want you to get it checked out. All we need is for you to get one when you're rappelling down the side of a building or something." She whipped around a peeved expression on her face. "Wait a minute. Does something feel weird around here to you?"

Nikita looked over her shoulder at him, a bittersweet smile on her face. "Yeah, being here at all." Lowering her head, she walked morosely up the hallway. Michael watched her for a moment, debating whether or not he had made the right decision about leaving Jerrod in peace. Letting him continue to think Claude and Annie were his parents and not use the leverage he provided. And leaving Mac's unspoken request unanswered.

A sliver of a noise caught Michael's ear. It sounded like air being released from a silencer. He turned in the direction of the sound when a dart hit him in the chest. Instantly his whole body went numb and he went to one knee. It took two tries for him to grab it and pull it out. The dart fell from his nerveless fingers and clattered across the floor. It echoed off the walls and his eardrums like a cannon. Colors and lights swirled together and he slumped over.

Two drab dressed men jabbed at him with their weapons. "Stuff works good. Who said all natural was for wimps? I haven't seen a synth that works that fast before." one said as he leaned down to check Michael's pulse and eyes. "He's definitely out."

"JJ said that room two levels down that's all white for him. And to make sure he was secure in the chair."

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The jerk of the elevator as the door closed made Nikita wince. She hated nothing more than taking an elevator with a headache but she was too lazy to use the stairs and play with a dozen entrance panels. One with the elevator and she was set. Nikita shrugged, she was just going to stand still and hope the ride was smooth. Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the dull throb on the right side of her head. She wasn't about to admit it to Michael but she thought the headaches were from the accident too. But tension was what was the trigger.

After all in Perth, hadn't that liquor hit her fiercely. Never before had she passed out from a large shot, even the strength of one like that. And then there were large missing pieces of the time between starting to drink at that bar and finding the hotel again. There were the black spots of nothing in her memory of what she had done before Michael had gotten there. Only thing she could remember was the tape from Martina.

And now the headaches.....the first one had hit walking down the stairs carrying Reese the second day at Cala. If Michael hadn't been right in front of her, she would have pitched forward. He yelled for Annie but she could only say she thought it was a migraine and that a nap would probably be the best thing. Three more had followed just as blinding. She had been serious about the tension part of it though. He was causing it. They needed to get things straightened out. He was having trouble turning off his protective switch and it was getting on her nerves.

Suddenly it struck her that the elevator hadn't stopped. She looked over at the buttons. The correct one was lit but she was going right to the main level. Annoyed she stabbed the button a couple of times. Nothing happened. "Well so much for surprising Chrissy!" The car jerked to a stop and Nikita waited for the doors to open, her foot tapping on the floor. She was irritated at the machine having a mind of its own.

With a cross pinch to her face, she pushed the 'door open' button with her finger. Sluggishly the doors opened and she found two guns shoved in her face. Reacting and not even looking at faces to see if she recognized them, she grabbed the barrel of the gun on the left with a hand to deflect it. The other hand flew forward to hit the nose of whoever was holding the gun. She lashed out with a leg towards the second gun owner only to be spilled to the floor. Using both hands she held onto the gun barrel she had grabbed then shoved forward with all her weight coming partially up off the floor. As the air whooshed out of him, she yanked backwards with everything she had. The unbalanced assailant fell with her.

It worked with her perfectly, acting enough like a shield from the other gunman to keep him or her from firing. Nikita kicked and punched him, this was definitely a he by the way he screamed as her poorly aimed head kick connected with his crotch. He let go of the gun and she swung it like a bat at his head. The butt of the gun connected with the other attacker's weapon just enough to keep the bullet from slicing into the side of her throat. With a howl of fury, she kicked out and hit a knee. There was a definite crunch and yowl of pain coupled with the sound of an other bullet being rammed into the chamber. She sensed her advantage though, they were afraid to hurt her. The feeling wasn't mutual.

Coming up from the floor, she twisted the gun around in one hand and fired. Her balance was off and the repeat unsteadied her further. Now a third joined in and attacked from behind. A simple backwards fist to the face and elbow to the ribs loosened the hold. She slammed her boot heel down on the foot next to hers. Dropping the gun, she reached back and grabbed for the attacker's head or neck. Digging in her fingers and tightening her grip, she bent and pitched herself and him forward. Her roll was just enough to throw him over her shoulder but she didn't let go. They had said playing for keeps with that shot so she twisted the head she held on to. The result was a crunching noise and a limp body.

The next shot ripped into the corpse. Thought had ceased for Nikita on the sight of the weapons in the elevator. In a seamless motion, she dropped the person and grabbed the gun. From 20 feet away Jon watched her in fascination, one hand clamped firmly over Christine's mouth and the other playing with a knife. A smile spread across his face as Nikita put down another and aimed the gun at Quasimodo as Paige called him. He whispered into Christine's ear, "Paige, when I remove my hand, you tell her to stop."

Christine wanted no more to do that than she wanted to kiss the man again but she was afraid of his actions if she didn't. A guard had nearly split CC's skull, they refused to let her treat the woman. They could lose CC in this, the injuries were not minor. It was easy to recall the unfeeling way he had shot his own injured man back at that house because in his condition he was 'not useful' too. His hand lifted as Nikita lifted the gun to Quasimodo's forehead.

"I'm only asking you one...."

"Kita, stop!!" Nikita partially turned her head at the sound of Christine's voice. No use falling for a trick now. She took in the man holding Christine and the knife. Her hands were shackled and there was bruise that covered her cheek. Nikita felt a hand on her thigh and kneed upward viciously. There was the sound of teeth ramming together and breaking.

"Down, boy!" She commanded, gun now aimed at the top of his head. Quasimodo froze, hands held over his mouth as blood seeped through his fingers..

The man with Christine spoke next, "Helio pull back. Nikita please put the weapon on the floor and move away from it." Satisfied that her attacker had indeed pulled back, Nikita turned sideways now and leveled the gun at the man with Christine. She kept some still on the guy behind her though. Nothing could be trusted right now. And she had a sinking feeling she knew who this guy was too.

"So who the hell are you?" Nikita snarled. She repositioned the gun for a better shot. She had his throat in line, near enough to the jugular to stop him cold within seconds.

"Superb skills. I see he trained you in his image. Though there is a sharper edge to you than he possesses. I watched you with him and Simon in Potosi at the electronics company. You were very good then but now.....my admiration. Such power from such a strikingly beautiful woman. I must say he has always had very good taste."

"I want your name, not admiration." Nikita's voice was like steel. Christine was worried that Michael wasn't with her. Slowly Jon brought the knife up to Christine's cheek and gently slid the tip across the skin. Nikita's eyes narrowed as she watched the way Christine cringed.

"Pardon my manners. My name is Jon Jae. I'm sure you two talked about me." Still moving the blade in almost a caressing fashion, he moved it down to Christine's throat. He leaned towards her ear, never taking his eyes off of Nikita. "I enjoy the feel of your skin, Paige. I intend to investigate further." He snickered softly as he nipped the outer edge of her ear.

Nikita watched the revulsion flood over Christine's face. "Yeah, much to my regret. Quit the crap with the knife. And for your manners, they stink."

"Perhaps you would be willing to teach me better ones?"

"Hard to teach anything to a corpse. Real short attention span." Nikita hoisted the gun to absorb the impact in the right spot on her shoulder when he drew the knife tip across Christine's throat. The blood beaded along the line and then formed large droplets. Nikita thought it might be the same trick Michael had taught her but she wanted to be sure. "Chris?"

"Just a scratch."

"I can do more than that." Jon warned. "Drop the gun and it will remain a scratch."

"What do you want, Jon Jae?"

"Please Nikita, Jon will do. That's what my friends call me."

"What do you want?" It was a stupid question because she already knew. He was here for Reese and to get back at Michael. And it was rapidly becoming apparent that she was at a big disadvantage here. There were 5 armed people behind him besides holding Christine with the knife to her throat. Helio was behind her, holding his gun again and she could only guess the doorways had some too.

"Just something simple. My son. Tell me where he is." She heard the sound of like someone popping their bubble from their bubble gum.

"I don't know." Nikita said it with such a blank face that Christine believed her. Nikita swayed, the gun clattered to the floor and she fell to all fours. She lifted a hand to smack at her shoulder but slumped forward as she lost her balance. With a small whimper, Nikita rolled sideways and unto her back. Jon glared at Helio.

"You should have done that in the first place!!!" he bellowed at him as he tossed Christine to the floor behind him. "Put her back in that office. Take that bitch and put her with the others, I'll deal with her later."

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The hot water from the shower had felt better than anything she had felt before. With a sigh, Darcie pulled the towel off her head and finally opened her eyes to look into the mirror. Her bottom lip was still a little swollen and the stitches stuck out in the middle of it. There were only two that she could see but they were still ugly. Turning her head, she looked to see what her cheek looked like. It was still a little red but just the mark from CC slapping her. The real thing that was even more ugly than the stitches was the mark from the kick.

The bruise ran from the part of her cheek level to her upper lip to her jaw and then across to her chin. It had so many different shades of blue, purple, red and black that she gave up trying to count them. Darcie had a little dread about seeing Nikita. Not only was she going to be hurt about the reassignment but when she found out about the fight....saw the result of the fight was probably a better way to put it. Well, there would be hell to pay about both. Michael would catch it for the reassignment in some way even though Darcie doubted he even knew about it.

And she knew after Nikita finished drilling her for letting CC provoke the fight, CC would get it for her participation too. Maybe that was why CC had started it. She had said something about a sucker punch. Darcie knew that Nikita had laid into CC something bad when she found out the kids weren't still at Claude's house anymore.

Plus it was pretty well known in Section that Darcie was usually Nikita's shadow. Or as CC put, Nikita's little watchdog. But that really didn't bother her, she enjoyed being able to be that close to Nikita. It was the same way she had been with Ronnie. Nikita was a favorite teacher, big sister and mom rolled into one. "And I like it like that so lump it the rest of you!" she blurted out to the reflection in the mirror. Wasn't going after her a good way to get Nikita involved in the matter?

Darcie shuffled out to where her bed was. Heaving a big sigh, she flopped down on the end of it, looking down at her toes. "Girl, you got nasty toes. They look like I don't know.... stumps maybe. Yuck!" A stretch of silence went by as she thought about how much fun Nikita and Michael must have been having with the two kids. The little girl was around 10 from what Nikita had told her and Reese from what she had been able to snoop out was like 2. Darcie smiled as she remembered what it was like to be 10. Make up, clothes and boys were starting to be popular subjects as was talking on the phone about the above and dishing on your neighbors, parents and general school scums.

Darcie gave a short laugh. That was when Mom and Dad had started the elaborate money schemes. 3 years later the mob had entered the picture and nothing had ever been the same. They had been lousy parents. No two ways about it. Now Michael and Nikita, they would make good ones. They had two interests....each other and the kids. The way it was suppose to be and exactly opposite of how her own parents had been.

Getting up Darcie dragged out some jeans and a t-shirt. Glancing over at the clock, she wondered why it felt like she had slept longer but it was only like 8 hours. That meant they would be on their way back if maybe not here already depending on their flights. That is if they even had to get one. Going over to her terminal, she tried to log on. The screen flashed at her, "ACCESS DENIED". Darcie shook her head. She had used her old code. Then she tried the new one and got the same message.

With a perplexed look on her face, she tried to change screens. Again the error/denial message showed on the screen. Now feeling stupid for having probably locking herself out of the system with the wrong codes, she rebooted but the screen went blank and stayed that way. Confusion took control and she pulled out the wheeled platform that her terminal sat on. "If I've got rats in here just because I have the last room on the last hallway cause nobody likes my music."

Inspecting all the wires and connections revealed nothing. With an shove that said she was getting angry, the cart hit the wall. For a minute she stood there, trying to decide what to do. "Oh well, probably better to just get it the hell over with. Let her rant at me for a bit then explain myself." She went up to the door and waited. Nothing, the door didn't make a sound. She hit the hand release. Still nothing happened. "Now what the hell is the problem!!"

As she walked past her bookcase, she snatched the watch from it. Strapping it on she looked at the face and froze in her tracks. She had the fight with CC on Thursday night going towards midnight. Now the little window on her watch said it was going for midnight on Friday. She looked over at her clock, there was a major time difference between it and her watch. Now she was scared.

Moving quickly, she jerked open her closet and pushed the clothes aside. It revealed a buckled seam in the back wall. Slipping a hand into the seam, she pulled lightly. The panel popped off and opened into a metal tunnel. Slipping in feet first, Darcie closed the closet door behind her and carefully replaced the panel. Her eyes adjusted rapidly to the dimmer light. Darcie got to her knees and crawled backwards about 4 feet to an intersection. There she turned and headed to the right. She'd be damned if she was going to be locked in her room like a child for something CC had started.....

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Michael turned to look at Nikita. "So what do you think?" She rolled her eyes as she looked at him.

"That she has weird tastes." Nikita made a face as she turned around in the bedroom. "Really a purple room? We should have told her white or creme. Something normal. This doesn't go with anything else here."

"She is your daughter." He smiled for effect because he knew the flippant comment that was coming.

"Oh... so much for the 'no more yours and mine' deal. Guess I know where I stand." She folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him.

"Rule is when she's normal she's ours. Weird she's yours. Besides I think it makes the room unique. Everything else in this house is traditional. Katie dares to be different. Like you." Nikita looked at him from under her eyelashes, wrinkling her nose. The defiant look in her eyes dared him to make a case of it. He just smirked at her as he rotated around to look at the plain white dresser that sat between two posters. Both were harlequin clowns that reminded him of ones Paige had on the wall in her room as a child. "Did she tell you why she wanted purple?"

Nikita sat on the bed with its creme and purple flowered comforter. Leaning forward , she started to pull up bits of dark lint from the creme rug. "Because it's her favorite color, why else?" She looked up as she heard him move a piece of furniture. He stood back from the dresser, appraising it again. "What are you doing?"

"Wasn't centered." Nikita rolled her eyes and sighed. He could hear her thoughts in his head because she muttered it so often, '... such a damn perfectionist. Drives me nuts.' He knew he was getting on her nerves then. Time to back off a little, he sat down with her. "Actually the little actress told me that she wanted purple because of Reese. He told her that the paint sample looked like grape jelly. He hates grape jelly and would never go into a room that color."

"You're not serious." Nikita looked over at him with a surprised expression.

Michael raised his hand, palm out and said, "Honest, that was what she told me."

The sudden bright light tugged Michael from the dream. He squinted into it because he couldn't bring his arm up to shield his eyes. Neither of his legs could be moved. He could tell too that he was in a sitting position. Flexing his fingers, he touched cool metal. It was the last clue he need to determine his whereabouts. He was in the white room. He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts and closed his eyes. Had Operations actually been working with Madeline? The trick to make him think that he had Reese and Katie safe from them when he had actually delivered them freely to Section?

"Hello. It's been a while. How have you been doing?"

There was no way Michael could deny he knew the voice or pretend it was his imagination. Slowly he opened his eyes as he moved his head in the direction it had come from. He purposely kept his eyes and face blank even though hot anger mixed with a small measure of cold fear ran through him. Jon stood just to the side watching him calmly. "Just fine and dandy. Thank you for asking. And you?" He turned his head straight so he looked at the door.

"I see you still have your sarcastic wit with you. Never managed to outgrow that little flaw." He walked over so that he was in front of Michael. It annoyed Jon that there was not a flicker of anything in that still face. He had been good at that look before he had been taken. Now he was a master.

"One man's flaw can be another's strength." The words were solemn and Jon felt a double edge to them.

"You think you are so strong and smart. You were nothing before and you are nothing now. And soon there will be nothing left of you either."

"Never felt I was anything to begin with. Won't hurt my feelings." Michael continued to stare ahead at the door as Jon leaned into his face.

"And how will Nikita react to that?"

"She will deal with it." Michael kept his voice neutral. There was no sense denying the connection or that she would react to it. But he had to control himself at the moment. He couldn't afford a bit of emotion surfacing. He willed himself to not think about her. They were in Section. Help was available, getting to it was the problem.

Jon sneered at him. He had read the comments from Dominic had made while he held them. He had indicated a strong link and Jon knew it had only gotten stronger. They had found a ring in one of Michael's coat pockets as well as a matching one on the blonde. He knew what that meant. And then there were the children, Reese and whoever the little girl was. It was going to be a very satisfying experience to shove this down Michael's throat. He was going to lose everything that mattered. Maybe then Michael would understand how he had felt for so long. "I could bring myself to comfort her."

There was still no reaction from Michael. Jon tried to keep the lid on his temper. Over the years the dead look that Michael had developed to deal with Philippe seemed to have evolved into an impenetrable wall. The offer to comfort at least caused Michael to look directly into his eyes. "She'll kill you first."

"You understand the concept of fidelity and you get it someone as well? How quaint but late..... Did you enjoy her?"

Michael returned his gaze to the door. "I'll play since you seem in the mood to talk. I remember you used to get lonely with no one to harass or brag to. Big egos get that way. Who do you mean?"

Restraining himself from wiping the blank look from Michael's face, Jon swallowed the anger that flared wildly inside. He wanted too many explanations from Michael and beating on him in anger at this point would not get them for him. "Simone."

"You know that wasn't real. You know why she did what she did." Michael kept his eyes focused on the door. This fixation of Jon's really didn't matter anymore but obviously he still had problems with it. "You didn't matter to her. She hated you. As for the marriage thing you tried to force down her throat, she spit it back out. It didn't matter."

Jon leaned closer, but that didn't draw Michael's eyes back to him. "What matters, what has always mattered it what I think. You are nothing! Don't you remember? Or did you forget everything that Philippe worked so hard to teach you? You've dared to care about something again, too. I found the evidence of that in your pocket."

"You can't teach anything to a nothing." The strike across his face from Jon knocked his head against the metal back of the chair. As if the hit had not even happened, Michael went back to acting as if he was studying the door, his heart hammering in his chest. What did I have in my pocket? I checked when we got out of the helicopter. They were empty except for my wallet and my gloves....I put the keys in my pocket from the car...I had the coat in car at the airport ....There was nothing...

"You still are the thick headed smart ass you were 14 years ago!" It was almost like the remark the blonde had said to him. One was learning from the other.

"Change can be overrated." He brought his gaze back to Jon. "What do you want?" Then it dawned on him what Jon had meant. The ring had been in the breast pocket of his coat. That meant Jon undoubtedly thought he and Nikita were....

"What? Didn't you get the message?" He stood up to glare down at Michael who had followed him with his eyes. Jon repressed the sudden shiver that slithered down his spine from the back of his head. Michael's eyes chilled him. He had seen many things in them when they were younger. But never had he seen this nothingness. It was as if Michael didn't possess any emotion, like he was frozen.

"I got the message. But does it really matter anymore? Simone can't be anything except a memory for either of us."

"I still feel the loss....every moment of the day. I have since the night you TOOK HER AWAY!!"

"Jon, give this up. You know as well as I do this is a waste of time. She's gone. Leave her in peace. Fighting over what was or what wasn't will not change the fact that she is dead." He went back to looking at the door. He had to appear as totally emotionless but it was a futile attempt. There were cracks and he knew Jon could see them. "There must be other things whirling in that head of yours you want to stop. Let her be."

"You don't care. You never did. You just let her slip away and after you were sure she was dead, you went right to that bitch's bed!! And you have the audacity...."

"Nikita was the one who found her and helped me rescue her! Simone made the decision to let go. Not me! She wanted me to live, I followed her wishes. Maybe you should do the same."

"How can I? I never got to say good bye. You took her away." The weary sigh that came out of Michael surprised Jon. Could he not understand how much it had hurt when Simone went with him and the people from Section One that night? That Jon finally had to admit to himself that Simone had much deeper feelings and a sense of commitment to Michael than she would ever have had to himself ? That night Philippe had beat her so bad, had it not been Michael's name she had moaned half unconscious and not his own?

"Do you think I really got to either? I'm tired of hearing the same line out of you, Jon. She never believed it either, always swore that she didn't. You thought you could control her with it. And if you controlled her you would be able to do the same to me. I was never controlled by you Jon. Do you ever feel you have it over her? She went to you time and time again for one reason. To keep you off my back. You disgusted her. You made her skin crawl."

He watched Jon's eyes, seeing that he making an impression. Michael knew that Jon was using Simone as a front. His real problem was Reese and Michael's connection to him. "It was always her decision. I didn't make her do anything, never could. She was her own person. If you didn't know that, then you never really knew the woman. No one was her master except herself." Michael looked up to the ceiling and stretched his neck at the same time flexing his fingers. He twisted his head, working out the kinks that were working into his back.

As much as he hated it, he knew Michael was right. Simone was an issue best left to rest as she did now, somewhere. He hated Michael even more for having to make that admission. It didn't cool the fire inside at all, only increased it. Jon knew what fueled it. Simone was a secondary problem that would be solved later with Paige and Nikita. It might even prove to be enjoyable. With having the two of them, his smoldering anger over Simone would work itself out.

The main problem went much deeper. It was his abhorrence over their contact with that brat. They were perpetuating the lie from Martina that made him feel so fooled. They had possession of something that could be used against him. That was one thing that Jon refused to allow to go on. He was the master, the one in absolute control. There could be no other way.

Suddenly Jon clamped both of his hands down on Michael's knees. His gaze was intense and leaked into his voice. "You know what, Michael? You're right. You are so wonderfully right. It is so good to see that you have managed to keep your head level after all this time and the amount of praise and admiration that has been lavished so unwarrantedly in the process. OK I agree the past is the past. We can't change any of it. I concede that argument to you. You win. Feel better? So let's work on the present."

Michael inhaled deeply and steadily then slowly exhaled. He looked directly into Jon's eyes and let some of his hate and revulsion show. "Get your hands off of me. Now." Jon moved back slowly, for the first time in his life he felt intimidated by Michael. There was something in the look and the way he had felt the timbre change in his voice and body. The threat was so strong it felt physical though he had nothing to fear from Michael. He was secured in the chair.

Trying to settle himself, Jon slowly walked behind Michael. He wanted to assure himself that he was locked into the chair as well as he could be. It appeared to be done right but Jon couldn't shake the feeling.... Just like Philippe... as if he knew what I feared most. That was it then, that was why it unnerved him. It was the same type of look that Philippe had used on them when they were young. Michael was shrewd. Jon had been drudging up things from then why not use it to his advantage?

"Yes, you are good. You're not the same boy they took from home that night."

"It was never home. It was always a prison."

"One man's prison can well be another's home, to paraphrase something I once heard." He sneered at Michael. "As for the present, my concern lays in one place only. I want the boy back."

"Impossible." Michael said shortly.

"Excuse me? Impossible? Why?"

"His whereabouts are unknown. Madeline has placed him with caretakers. I don't know who or where." Michael swallowed hard as the image of Reese in Annie's arms earlier in the day as they left Cala. He had been holding on tight to the teddy bear Michael had given him months ago at Greg's and the rolled up picture of the cow they had worked on together the night before. Tears had glimmered in his eyes and his thumb was wedged tightly in his mouth. That was how they had know how upset he was. He only sucked his thumb now when he was scared or upset.

And then there had been Katie too. She had stood a little apart from Claude, Annie and Reese, trying to act brave. But he had seen her biting the inside of her lower lip, same gesture as her mother. Their similarities at times were almost scary. Watching Nikita say goodbye to them had tore into him. He could feel the pain coming from her, matching his own . It was torture to leave them. But they had to, for now. Until he could figure out what he had to do to get them out from under Section's thumb.

Jon took several moments to digest Michael's reply. The eyes had turned back to the door but there was still nothing in them or the face. Just more rapid breathing, as if he was controlling himself.... "I don't believe you. The reason I have been unable to find you is because you took your little pet with you so the two of you could play mommy and daddy. Being a good one requires more than play." He moved away from Michael and leaned against the door that he seemed to target his staring on.

The laughter that burst out of Michael caused a brief tremble in Jon which Michael didn't miss. He knew the way he was acting was throwing Jon off of his act he had put together for this. "Thank you so much for that pearl of wisdom!" He smirked at Jon as he inspected him up and down like a jockey inspecting his mount before a race. "And what do you know about being a parent? It takes a lot of things I know you can't even begin to fathom much less give."

"Oh and you do? You know how to love and care for someone? You know how to love and care for two children who are not your own flesh and blood? Two children you have taken from their fathers. You don't have the right to decide this outcome!" He flung something at Michael and it hit him it the chest before it dropped to his lap. "You think you have any right to her either? You have a wife... you have that child and you got another from someone, somewhere. I let her and the little girl live if you just tell me where Reese is. If I have to figure it out on my own, Nikita dies like Simone and the girl grows up like we did."

Michael looked down into his lap. It was the ring from his coat pocket. Though Jon's threats rang hollow, they still bothered him. Katie was too gentle in spirit to handle the abuse he had. And he knew how Nikita responded to torture. He thought of those last moments with Simone. That explosion had only been an end to her physically. As he had held her then, he had known she already was dead inside. He had felt it and Nikita had sensed it somehow too. If it happened to her too, no he wasn't going to think about that.

"You always did enjoy making up stories and giving out threats. They don't work anymore and aren't going to get you what you want. No one knows where he is. No one knows where the little girl is either. Find a new bone to chew on, I'm not it."

"How would you like it if I chewed on Nikita then?"

"I already told you what she'll do to you." He didn't believe a single thing Jon was saying. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that this was truly something concocted by either Operations or Madeline. Perhaps even both of them together. When Operations had gone to warn her off, had she been able convince him to go to her side? Somehow show him the 'justice' in her actions?

"I can have her begging for mercy. I guarantee it."

"Right..." Yawning, he appeared as if he was settling himself in the chair for a nap. "You're boring me."

The control Jon had gathered to guard his temper shattered again. He moved forward in a flash and grabbed Michael's throat. Michael kept himself deliberately calm. Jon was only threatening, he wouldn't actually do it. He knew Jon still needed him. "As you die, I'm going to make sure the last image you see tears your insides out! Do you understand me? Since you didn't like the first choice, obviously your wife doesn't mean as much to you as she believes she does. Here is choice number two. Are you listening Michael?"

There was no answer from Michael. Jon smiled maliciously at him. He tightened his grip around the throat and was satisfied at the color that was starting to rise in Michael's face. But it was a marginal satisfaction because the expression didn't change. "I imagine your ears are roaring a bit. Try and hear me anyway. I have your sister, Michael. I have Paige. You want to see her... you give me that little whelp." He let go of Michael's throat with a dismissive gesture and then stalked to the door. He rapped on it loudly and it opened. But he turned to look at Michael one more time before he closed it.

Michael's head hung down. The oxygen felt good in his tormented lungs but the sudden return of it made him dizzy. His heart battered against his ribs as if it wanted to be let out. Not only from the lack of air but the words Jon had said. The urge to scream in rage was almost overpowering. He hated feeling helpless and that was exactly the way he felt.

"I'll let you think on it for a while. Though I don't think it's a difficult decision." The door shut with a dull metallic thud. Only inside his own head did Michael gave in to that urge to scream. The bastard had her this whole time. The things he knew Jon was capable of and the amount of time. What had he turned Paige into? She had never been one to handle anything rough. She was even more gentle than Katie. What kind of darkness had the beast pulled her into?

And he wanted to trade.... Give him Reese and get Paige in return? How could he rip out one part of himself to regain another? A wounded moan came out of him. A what is for a what if? He couldn't do it, could he? Not to Reese and not to their future. The price was too steep.

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Chapter 8

Nikita came to with such a start that Operations pulled back. He raised an arm to catch the hand that flew at his face, palm first. "Whoa, Nikita. Relax. You're OK." She jerked her hand back and looked around. CC leaned against the wall, staring at them. She just knew the red head was not with it. There was dried blood on her face and on her turtleneck, they'd gone after her for some reason. Madeline sat in a chair just behind Operations, watching them as well. She was pale and looked like she hadn't slept in a week. In fact, Operations looked the same way. Walter sat on the floor a short way from them, seemingly asleep.

An armed man stood at each doorway into the briefing room. She bit her lip as she looked around, closely inspecting each guard. Then she looked at Operations. In a low voice she said, "What is this? Your next gimmick?"

He shook his head as he leaned against his heels. "I'd love for it to be just a bad dream. I could end it but unfortunately this is very real. Was your mission a success?"

Michael's words from the hotel words echoed in her head, 'Lesser of two evils, Kita. He made the offer. I took it.' She looked at Madeline, trying to keep her expression neutral. She hadn't needed to, Madeline's eyes were closed. Nikita took a deep breath as she spoke, "Yes." The relieved smile on Operations' face surprised her.

"Good, that makes me happy. Are you otherwise ok?" As he asked, his voice dropped to a whisper. She looked at him feeling shocked. Operations you happy? And concerned about me? He's cracked. I know it! He's finally lost it! Now puzzled Nikita nodded her head. Then another thought hit her. What the hell did Michael tell you? Standing, Operations held out a hand for her. Nikita stood on her own, stretching out her back and arms. The legs were a little shaky but for now that wasn't a big problem.

"What does Jon know?" Her voice was low but darkly colored with worry. His appearance here at Section had been the last thing she would have ever guessed happening.

"He knows you two were with Reese. Intuitive leap, I believe, at least I hope so. Answer me this, what did you have in your pocket? He pulled something out and was ballistic about it."

Nikita nodded her head as her heart sunk to the soles of her boots, thinking of Reese. Then his question hit her. Her mind went over rapidly what had been in her pockets. Michael had made her empty everything in them to make sure there was nothing to link them to Cala. Even the clothes they had bought stayed there. They had only bought back what they had originally gone with. The only thing to cause suspicion would have been the ring. She dug her fingers into the small change pocket of her jeans. It was gone which meant Jon would only think one thing.

"Damn it!," she whispered. She should have put it in her bag, not her pocket. And Michael had done the same thing. She could see him do it in her head., inside breast pocket. Jon would have found his too. This only made things worse. Unconsciously now rubbing her bare ring finger, she asked the question she dreaded. "Michael?"

"We haven't seen him or Jon in a while." Operations watched her rubbing her hand, in particular her ring finger. Then he saw the light indentation that was on there. Michael if you pulled the same stunt again with Nikita you did with Simone.... He wanted to ask but knew that would push Nikita away. She would see it as an attack or accusation and that was the last thing they needed.

"How did this happen?" Looking directly into her eyes, he could see that a great many things were going through her head. She was looking for answers so she could figure out what to do here.

"The night Michael left to go to Perth, Jon grabbed Simon and Christine at her house. They've been missing the entire time you were gone. Jon used them to bully in through the garage. Took what Ops controls that he could, lock down didn't last for long. Most everyone who was here is caught in their quarters or in place where he left the bulkheads down. He is here for Michael. There is more bad blood between them than I thought."

"Cause he thinks he was married to Simone and Michael took her. Now he feels Michael is taking his son too. And found those.... damn it! " She started to rub her temples, she needed a clear mind to figure a way out of this. Though it hadn't been said, Nikita knew right away why he had grabbed Chris. He knew about her past. She looked at Operations. "He knows about Christine, doesn't he? That's why he used her? We're in a lot of trouble. A whole lot." She looked back to each guard, sizing them up. What she saw didn't make her happy.

"Yes. Trouble that could have been avoided." Madeline got out of her chair and walked over to them. Nikita ran her eyes up and down her before she smiled.

"Next time make the blade a little longer. You missed on the last try." Madeline met Nikita's gaze levelly. The girl's scathing tone was hard to miss.

"It was a lesson you had to learn."

"And I think you've learned one ,too. Haven't you? You push, he shoves." Nikita kept the smile on her face but her voice low as she maintained eye contact with Madeline. "The first chance I see to hang you Maddie, get ready to swing. Understand me?"

"Then the line is drawn? "

"Etched in stone. I won't hesitate to use whatever I have at my disposal."

"I'm not afraid of the truth." Madeline replied quietly. She knew that Nikita meant her words, it was in her eyes. Nikita knew what Michael and Claude both knew. But she had the sinking feeling that Nikita had talked to Annie, too. Madeline could only imagine the things that were said during that conversation. Every decision regarding that time would be put under a microscope and the demands for a reason why would be hard to ignore. Would she had the strength to fend them off?

Operations reached out a hand to put on Nikita's shoulder. "Let's leave the past where it belongs. A thirst for retaliation...." She slapped his hand away.

With her teeth bared, she snapped, "That was where I wanted it! She couldn't leave it there! It wasn't for anyone else to..."

"You needed to get over it. It was a weak point for you." Madeline said.

"Only because I let it be. I won't make the same mistake twice. I know my weaknesses. Do you? Or do you just ignore them so they fade into the background?" Operations backed up a bit. The struggle between the two of them was beginning to grow. He hoped for the first time in a long time for a little help. This situation had the potential to easily flare out of control. And the stick of dynamite for the fire was right below them. Foller would have only been in an observation room. He had needed to get him down to level 8 but that was impossible with the present circumstances. He could only imagine the way Nikita would react to seeing him.

In trying to push those thoughts aside, it dawned on him why Madeline had started this with Nikita. As well as to why Martina had taken to the young operative so swiftly. He saw the same qualities in Nikita that Martina had when she was alive, especially when she was younger and they were involved. And he knew that had to infuriate Madeline. Operations knew Madeline saw Nikita and Michael as a present day version of what they had once been. Martina had said the same thing and she had relished the idea while Madeline had come to intensely dislike it. He could only guess that was because Madeline regretted the past while Martina had in many ways made peace with. Even embraced it at the end from what CC had told him.

The movement behind Nikita caught his eye. He didn't have time to react and Nikita had been too intent on Madeline. Jon grabbed her from behind. His arm wrapped tight around her neck. He jerked back so viciously that the only sound Nikita made was one of pain. Her fingers dug into the hollow between his stressed forearm muscle and bone. Operations started forward when he saw Jon twist slightly.

"One more inch," he warned as Nikita began to struggle for air. Operations raised his hands taking a step back. Just behind Jon, he saw CC start to move.

"Walter!" Operations called out. Walter came to his feet directly in front of CC.

"No more," he said. His tone was soothing. Walter watched her as she tried to focus on his chest. Her eyes seemed to quiver within their sockets and there was a tremble in her shoulders as well. The dried blood on her face looked black next to the paleness of her skin. "CC, you in pain?" There was no reaction to his question and none to the hand he rested against her cheek. She dropped from under his touch and he barely caught her before she hit the floor.

The skin was cold but felt damp. The muscles of her jaw felt slack as did the ones on her arm as he slide his hand down to her wrist. He lifted it as he felt her pulse. It was hard to feel and seemed much too slow. "Constance, can you understand me?" He turned her chin to look into her eyes. They stared blankly into his, no movement as there had been just seconds ago. A gagging sound behind him made him turn his head.

Jon dragged Nikita backwards and threw her to the floor. "What makes you think you can be anything to him? You're not good enough. He's not even worth the time I have to spent working on him again. He dares to think he has the right to care?" The words were muttered but Nikita heard them even through the roaring in her head. Though hearing them and them making sense were two different and difficult things for her right now.

She managed to get to her hands and knees, gulping air. Her head throbbed and spots floated in front of her eyes. The fire in her chest was sputtering out but not the pain in her neck. If she didn't bruise it would be a miracle. Jon prowled in a small circle around her. She watched him warily, the danger he represented clear. A large black spot appeared in her line of vision and she lost sight of him. She cursed silently as she felt him plant his foot between her shoulder blades. He shoved down hard and she barely kept her face from smashing into the floor.

"WHY?" He screamed at her. "WHY ME? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU PEOPLE?"

Nikita pushed her up into a sitting position. "What do you mean?" Her windpipe felt out of place, making her voice sound hoarse. Gently she massaged her throat.

"Why is he back in my life?" he spat the question out her.

"Why are you back in his?" Moving slowly, Nikita got to her feet and faced him. He raised his arm to smack her across the face. She pointed to her cheekbone. "Right here is a good spot. Would probably knock me out and give me another gorgeous bruise you could boast about to your boys. It looks like you like to hit a woman there. I imagine that was you who gave Chris that great one, right? Makes you feel powerful, like a real man, eh?"

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his arm. "You are brave." He moved into her face. "But not incredibly bright." She revealed her teeth in a smile as she faced him. He admired her bravado. "Aren't you afraid of what I can do to you?" His voice coaxed, threatened and admonished at the same time. It reminded her of how Philippe had talked to her at the house.

"You forget I live in hell. You can't make anything worse." She refused to show him the worry that was wrapping around her insides. He was another nutcase created by Philippe. Only he was one who knew how to play the board just as hard as they did. And this nutcase had competent well trained fools to back him up.

"And you think you regret your life now?" Her words made him laugh. She was going to be amusing to make use of.

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Darcie slipped the cover back into place and slid down the wall to the floor of the crawlspace. Pulling her knees up to her chin, she wrapped her arms around them and huddled silently against the wall. Somebody has definitely taken over Section and he was a real bad guy by the looks of him. The ones she had seen on monitors had seemed kind of unreal, like they were characters in a video game.

But this guy wasn't on the monitor and you couldn't freeze him in place or turn the sound down. It finally hit her that this whole thing she had gotten herself yanked into was not a game. It had suddenly turned into real life and she was on her own again. Scared like hell and no where and no one to turn to. Counting them hadn't made her feel better either. There were six in the briefing room plus the leader or whatever he was. Ops had to have had them, too. Snooping around before she got here had shown her about 2 dozen more. They were all armed with high power weapons.

The man's words in her head made Darcie shiver. "And you think you regret your life now?" There was no ignoring the threat that laid behind them. It frightened her to think what he planned to do to Nikita. There had been no sign of Michael, Simon or even the royal pain himself, Doyle. CC looked a mess. The bosses and Walter were being really quiet. Even they were unsure about what to do or maybe they were afraid to do anything.

And come to think about it, that guy Michael had brought back with him was no where to be seen either. He had been like always around and now she hadn't seen him. Maybe he was in on this. Just as she thought it, she dismissed the notion. Michael trusted the man. He had probably gotten stuck some place too. A lot of the bulkheads were down and there were people caught between them. Plus rooms were locked too. Ideas were flying through her head and she was actively sorting through what might work. Most required full assault teams or at least some help. She couldn't do anything on her own.

"What would they do?" she whispered into the dim light of the tunnel. Michael and Nikita had training to deal with stuff like this. She had only started and the feeling that she was useless was starting to get worse. Darcie started chewing on her thumbnail, something she hadn't done in a long time. The sudden growl of her stomach sounded loud. She looked quickly down the tunnel in both directions and held her breath as she listened. There was nothing to indicate anyone had heard her. "OK, the kitchen is my next stop. Christopher gets mad cause I raided it, well he can complain to one of the bosses. I'm starving. I need brain food." She skittered off to the right still trying to figure out what she was going to do.

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Raymond silently contemplated the figure that sat on the stool in the center of the observation room. The man rarely changed positions. He just stared at his hands as they laid in his lap. Raymond sensed defeat in the man. As if he had at last come to the end of a long winding road and found that it ended on a cliff. Now he was deciding whether to jump or start to walk back. The urge to tell the man to jump was strong and very unprofessional. Raymond told himself to put a doctor's face on it all.

Taking a deep breath, he tried the door again. It was still locked, had been for over 12 hours now. The intercom system was just static to anywhere but the room next door. Raymond looked around the room. The feeling of foreboding that he had felt coming on earlier was intensifying. Especially since he had heard the shouting and fighting in the hallway earlier. Something had happened up above and he knew it wasn't good. He looked clock on the console. Michael and Nikita had to have returned by now. He hoped whatever was going on was not connected to their return.

Acting on impulse, he flipped the intercom on. The static that fed into the other room made the man's head come up. "Hello Mr. Foller. May I call you Taylor?"

Taylor looked around and then focused on the mirror. "Who are you? Where are you? What is this place?" His voice had a shrill note to it.

"My name is Raymond. I am on the other side of the mirror. Locked in like you and going a little stir crazy." He debated over telling Taylor exactly what he had gotten dragged into. "As for this place, that is hard to say. I don't know a lot about it myself. I'm learning though." And not entirely please with some of what I'm discovering....

"Are you a prisoner here?"

"Of my own choosing, somewhat. I came to help some friends. And because of that I have to stay."

"I didn't choose to come here. They grabbed me from the parking lot at work. I want to leave." Anger started to creep into his voice now.

Raymond sighed, for the first time since he had been brought in to Section One, he longed for the outside, even if there was 4 feet of snow and ice on the ground. "Most of us do too. I guess in many ways this place is like a purgatory for questions left unanswered, apologies not given or taken, friendships lost along the road of life...... Pardon my rambling. I've been alone too much recently. That provides time for self introspection without the benefit of self clarification."

"You sound like a shrink." Taylor said, disgust in his voice. "I wasted so much money on them. Trying to set myself straight. Lot of good it did me. Look where I end up. In some kind of prison. My life has just been one big joke or mistake after another. Why did I bother with trying to fix anything? Huh, you got an answer for me there, Raymond? Why?"

"Depends on why you felt you needed to make up for the mistakes? If it was to make yourself feel better then I don't think you should have bothered. You should correct a mistake to make it right for the person you hurt with it."

"Even if that person doesn't deserve it." His remark angered Raymond. Did this man blame it on Nikita? That all that had occurred was her fault? She had been a troubled girl....

"No matter what, it didn't give you the right to do what you did. It was wrong. It was vicious and cruel. You had no right to burden her with it. She was just a girl." Immediately Raymond chastised himself for the remarks. They were inappropriate and hardly conducive to establishing a rapport with the man. So much for the clinical approach, he had just made it personal.

Taylor stared hard at the glass. Is this guy some kind of judge from heaven? Maybe I'm dead. There is no other way he could know about that. There were only the three of us who knew... "Hey am I like dead? Is this how the big guy decides on heaven or hell?"

"Why do you ask that, Taylor?"

What the hell can I say.... They must have killed me after they got me in that truck. Guess I have to talk about it now. Maybe with some kind of confession, it won't be so bad. Damn it! I got no warning about this! Guess it serves me right, huh? "Because I never even told my shrinks about it. That was why I never made progress. I didn't give them the whole story. It wasn't worth telling. Still isn't." The bitterness in Taylor's voice sickened Raymond. He felt it only affected his life, Nikita's and their daughter's was of no consequence.

"No this isn't your last judgement, at least not exactly. Confession won't bring forgiveness. Maybe self understanding? Hmmm... I'll be blunt. You won't see the outside again. You may even wish you were dead..... Do you ever wonder what became of her?"

Taylor closed his eyes, he was numbed by that. But at the same time angered, they had no right to treat him like this. "No, because if I think about her I think about how lousy my life is. I made a really bad judgement call. I didn't think I just reacted to what she made me feel. I didn't know ...." He sighed and slide off the stool. "You know I really just don't care...not anymore."

"You broke important trusts, Taylor." Taylor walked up to the mirror. He tried to look through the glass but it was useless. This was just one stranger talking to another. The knowledge that he was going to die in this place sat inside like a bad meal from the diner around the corner from his apartment. What do he have to lose by opening his mouth?

"She came on to me. She wouldn't let me stop."

"She was 16 years old. You had a responsibility to set the limits for her. To show her wrong and right. To curb dangerous actions. You failed! You failed to show her the proper way to be. You even failed at being a decent human being. You took advantage instead of cared for her. You defiled her life for her. You created a child and then belittled that special gift by destroying both their lives." Raymond walked away from the mirror. The injustice formed by this man and the way he focused it on Nikita as her fault and her problem enraged him. The man had no right!!!

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" Taylor screamed at the mirror. The man whomever he was knew things. He knew about Nik, somehow he knew and he knew about the kid too. That had been an even bigger mistake than falling for those eyes and that smile. He shook his head, he didn't want to think about her.

There was no way for Raymond to stop his growing rage at this man. He couldn't remember being this mad in such a long while. He was mad for Nikita and mad for Katie. Neither of them asked for what had happened to them. And this one acted like it was their fault. "You are the worst kind of coward. You go after those weaker than you. Do you have any idea the lives Nikita and Katie have led for the past 10 years?"

Some of the bluster seemed to ooze out of Taylor. His voice was softer, more breathy almost like he was savoring something. "Nik...you do know her. You know where she is? Do you know where Nik is?"

"Out of your life. Which you seem to be happy with. You don't want to know about your child?"

"No." Taylor's answer was abrupt as he turned away from the mirror and leaned against it. Raymond felt slightly vindicated with that answer. Operations had feared the man's need to know his child and how that could affect Reese's safety. If he went looking for Katie, it could leave Reese open to harm. Operations had been very wrong.

"Why?"

Taylor gave a short bitter laugh. "You want to know all about me, eh? Yeah, shrinks always do. Your mind makes you what you are. Well then how's this? If I don't mind that mistake then it doesn't exist. I know, twisted way of thinking but it works for me. Screw you if you don't like it."

Raymond leaned against the wall and stared at the other side of the room. He could hear the anger in Taylor's voice. A picture of a hard man who took what he wanted when he saw it was forming in his mind. He expected things to go his way, he wanted that to happen but they never did. That lead to frustration and then anger. Possibly manifesting as a violent temper that Nikita may have experienced while with him.

He shook his head, as he admitted to himself that there was no possibly here. That was obvious what had happened back then. The fear and revulsion he had felt from Nikita over this man confirmed that. The isolation and powerlessness she felt then clearly equated with many of the restraints on behavior here in Section One. "And they wonder where the anger and need to fight against them comes from?" he whispered to the blank wall.

"Hey, where the hell did you go?" The belligerence was still strong in his tone of voice. Raymond frowned, for an instant wishing he hadn't given into his curiosity to figure out this man. But he pushed that aside because he needed to know the man so he could help Nikita. This part of the past she had to resolve. It was too detrimental to ignore and pretend it didn't happen. It still amazed him that she had been able to cover for as long as she had. Raymond had to wonder if perhaps Michael had seen the signs and just denied them. Probably concealing them himself without fully realizing the cause.

"I'm still here. I was just thinking."

"People put too much time into that." He laughed again. "And that is exactly how I ended up here. Not thinking....Is she still as gorgeous?"

"Nikita is a beautiful and strong woman. She has overcome a lot. She is a survivor." He paused and then said more to himself than Taylor, "And that is what attracts Michael, the strength of her spirit. What he feels he doesn't have, but he's wrong. He's just as strong as she is."

"Who's Michael? She hooked up with him?"

For a moment Raymond pondered exactly where he should kick himself. As he got older, he talked to himself out loud more and more. Grandfather had done the same thing and was an accomplished tear maker. He could see himself following the same path in his quickly approaching twilight days. "Michael helps run this place."

"They lovers? Maybe married? I wonder if she still fights like she used to. She was a wildcat when we were together. Wonder how he does with her..."

"Michael and Nikita are very close, Taylor. He sees Katie as HIS daughter now." Taylor made a sound of disgust. He remembered going to the hospital to get Nikita and leave with her. The room had been empty before he got there. Litta had been screaming at him that she was going to press kidnapping charges. She had been blowing smoke with that threat. He had custody of Nikita just like she did. He would have been within his rights to 'protect' her from Litta and her wild accusations. That had been the last time he saw any of them. Without her there wasn't any reason to stay.

The small hope Raymond had for Taylor to ask about Katie flickered out with the silence. The fight comment needed an explanation. "What do you mean about fighting?"

"Always played hard to get. Punch, kick, scratch, even try to bite sometimes. She didn't like affection too much. Hated to be touch. All I ever heard was no, no and then that damn crying of hers. Drove me nuts with it. Couldn't stand hearing the word love." Taylor sounded so sarcastic. The anger was still in his voice as if he had been the one who had been made to suffer. "That's why I convinced her she'd be a lousy mother. Didn't understand love at all."

"Taylor Foller, do you know what rape is?"

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As Doyle hit the wall, he wondered why he agreed to this plan. He just knew Simon still harbored a lot of dislike towards him. No matter what the guy said, it was there and it made Doyle wonder how many pieces he would end up in before that door opened. He dropped to his knees as Simon's fist rammed into the spot on the wall where his cheek had been resting. He thanked God he heard the echo of the punch and not felt the sting of it. The confidence he had felt 3 minutes ago that they were indeed monitoring their cell dissolved with that echo.

Twisting in place on the balls of his feet, Doyle threw himself into Simon's mid-section with all the force he had. Simon hit the floor with a heavy exhale of air, his back protesting more abuse. He hated to see how bruised it was from the escape attempt. The strength of Doyle's impact had surprised him, too. He honestly hadn't thought Doyle had it in him. So far he had only landed one punch and that had been to the boy's shoulder. With a yell he rolled and lurched to his feet. Both sets of fingers curled into Doyle's shirt and with a yank he pulled up.

Doyle grabbed both of Simon's wrists and whispered harshly as he felt himself lifted off the floor. "Don't break me!" He closed his eyes as he realized Simon was going to swing him into the wall. He made his body relax as he felt the wall come closer. Still it smarted as he hit the white enameled surface. Something told him though that Simon, for as much as this was hurting, was holding back. I don't ever want to see this guy at full throttle!

Simon's face was in his as he screamed that he had enough and he hoped Doyle was ready to die. The door crashed open and 4 of JJ's men stood there, weapons ready to fire. "Put him down or we shoot." Simon turned to look at them with a grin that almost caused Doyle to laugh out loud. The idiot was enjoying this whole shtick. With a boisterous laugh, he let go of Doyle. As he slid down the wall, he thought it was over. He didn't think Simon needed to make anymore of a point, they had taken the bait. But Simon obviously didn't as he punched Doyle hard one last time in the stomach.

3 out of the 4 men armed their weapons. Simon raised his hands and put them behind his head. "Don't worry my dear friends! I know the routine." He stepped back from them. Doyle staggered towards them.

"Get me out of here. He's getting wacko. I don't want...." Doyle swallowed hard as the fourth man leveled his gun between his eyes. "...him to... k...ill...me. Guys.....umm.....ahhh.... this, that isn't really necessary. I just want out of here." The plan wasn't going to unravel the way Simon wanted it to.

"Back up!" ordered the man who had addressed Simon in the first place. A man to his right came forward and warily walked around Simon. The other pair came forward, placing the barrels of their guns on him.

"Don't forget, I am ticklish." Simon said, a huge smile still plastered on his face. Doyle closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. If the big idiot didn't shut his trap, they were bothering going to be dining on lead cocktails. Doyle heard the all too familiar metal teeth closing sound of handcuffs. Simon adjusted his shoulders and gave an almost imperceptible nod to Doyle. He would deal with this change of plans in his own way.

With prodding from the sidearms, they moved Simon from the room. As the fourth one went to leave, he noticed the wires hanging from the door. With a yank, he pulled them from the frame and tossed them out into the hallway. Doyle stepped forward, "Wait, I can be a big..." A bullet from the gun sailed by his cheek so closely that he felt the heat of it.

He wrenched himself out of the way by dropping to the floor. The door slammed shut and he was left in silence. Air rushed in and out of his lungs. The plan had been for them to remove him not Simon. Then Simon was going to work on the door and get himself out. Doyle rammed his fist down onto the cold hard floor. Now what were they... No, that should be what am I going to do now?! I had to wish for solitary confinement the other day, didn't I?

End of part four...

written by Tammy

Continue on to Fait Accompli, part five

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