Fait Accompli V

written by Tammy

Chapter 9

"This is colder and quieter than a cemetery in a blizzard." Darcie moaned out loud as she dragged another crate over in front of the terminal that was mounted into the computer bank. With a sigh she sat down and looked around. Hundreds of lights blinked on and off. She couldn't help a giggle. The past 45 minutes had been spent trying to get into here and her first thought on getting in was she had dropped into a set for a Star Trek episode.

"Shuttlecraft on final approach. Requesting permission to land, Captain." Darcie shook her head, she was spending too much time with those video tapes that she had gotten from Birky. She giggled again. What an image! "I bet I could fit one of those jumpsuit thing that one character...." Then the smile dropped from her face. Now was not a time to be indulging in little fantasies. She had a job to do, albeit a self appointed one.

Taking a long drink from the milk carton, she waited for the terminal to finish booting. The growling of her stomach had finally stopped with the addition of the three pieces of southern fried chicken she had found in the frig. It tasted a little greasy being cold but it was better than being hungry. There had been some kind of pasta salad in there too but it hadn't smelled too good. Too much vinegar plus way too many olives and pieces of pepperoni.

As she chewed on the apple she had dug out of the vegetable bin, she stared at the red 'ACCESS DENIED' message that blinked incessantly on the screen. Grabbing the milk again, she took another big gulp. There had to be a way in, after all wasn't she at the mainframe's only direct terminal access? Birky might have control but she was in the brain center. Suddenly an idea came to her and her fingers began to fly over the keys. The red letters dissolved from the screen and it blinked to black. Then the cursor reappeared and her fingers started dancing again. She let a small smile bloom, so much for encryption code secrecy. "Try and keep me out. Never worked before. Birky, you better be logged into the system somewhere....."

Birkoff's head came up as the square appeared in the right hand side of his screen. In puzzlement he stared at it, there was no reason for a save program to be running. He hadn't initialized it. There was no need for it. What was causing it to start up? Something keyed in wrong when Jon's man had been wrestling with him for control of the system? The guard standing directly behind him saw it too. He questioned it gruffly. "What's this?"

Shrugging, Birkoff knew he needed a story for this one. Quickly he replied. "Time sensitive maintenance program. If they aren't started at the right times, then they can start themselves. Keeps the mainframe running at optimum."

"We'll see about this." The guard looked over his shoulder and motioned with his head. Next time Birkoff knew Jon was standing next to him.

"Why is that program running? I didn't authorize you to run anything."

"It's in the protocol..."

"We're using my protocol...."

Birkoff raised his voice, "It's an automatic protocol. I can't stop it. The save wasn't done on time. When it's done, it will close until the next time."

Jon looked up at the guard. "Get one of the old men out here. I want a second opinion." The guard walked off the platform and towards the briefing room. Jon poked Birkoff in the upper arm. "I want a list of everyone who is authorized as a system user."

"We all are. Except recruits."

"No, I know there has to be some kind of list that shows those of you who have master codes, passwords, maintenance authority, things like that. Like a list of all your computer cronies who work under you. Those who can enact on the system like you can."

Drawing his lips together in a frown and knowing better than to refuse, Birkoff started to pull up what he wanted. Walter's approach caught his attention. Their eyes connected as he got closer. "Here's what you wanted." Jon pushed Walter next to Birkoff. He pointed to the screen. "What is that?"

Walter looked at the screen for a minute to gage the mood of things here. The kid's eyes had held a warning so he knew it wasn't good. The question was about what. As he watched the program do its thing, he realized that it not a program he would usually see running. It happened in the background and almost always off hours. There would have been no reason for Birkoff to start it either. That meant there was something else going on. Maybe some form of the calvary. He need something plausible here to buy time for whoever it was.

"Looks like one of the auto maintenance tests. They all are set up to run by themselves if somebody here doesn't start it on time." Walter met Jon's eyes squarely. He wasn't afraid of this little twerp and he was going to show him that. The guy wasn't worth the time or effort either.

"Can you tell who started this one?" Jon looked from Birkoff to Walter.

With a sigh, Birkoff replied, "Yes."

"Do it," Jon demanded. "But leave those other codes up. I want to see for myself." Birkoff pulled up the sign in for the program. It matched one of the those showing for automatic systems. The number that appeared though caused a small smile to flit across his face. He wanted to pat himself on the back for having procrastinated with file updates. The number logged in was no longer a systems authorization but an operator one. He had given it to Darcie three days ago. Clearing his throat, Birkoff pointed to the screen.

"See like I told you, automatic. Why are you so worried about this? Think somebody escaped their quarters and is hacking the system?"

Jon placed both hands on Birkoff's shoulders. "Those were my thoughts exactly. You're a smart boy. Maybe we'll talk later. I think I could use you. Get you out in the real world." He moved his hands and seemed to drift into thought. Birkoff tugged at Walter's sleeve.

"Hey, guess the poker game is off for tonight?" Walter looked at him with a raised eyebrow then he nodded. It was a strange question to come out of the kid but then there were lots of times he didn't understand Birkoff. "Good, then there is no way for you to have an ace up your sleeve and cheat, is there?"

Walter looked at Birkoff. The comments were coming out of no where. And the look on his face was one of innocence. He needed to think about what had been said. "Keep dreaming. I don't cheat at cards." Birkoff shrugged, inside he desperately hoped that Walter would understand him. Somehow Darcie had managed to tunnel in and he really hoped she was in her hideout and not using the one in her quarters.

The light bulb that went off in Walter's head would have blinded him if it had been real. The kid was mentioning poker for a reason. He was trying to tell him something. And there was only one 'ace' around Section One. He struck Birkoff lightly on the shoulder. "I saw that look. Now hold on, that was Darcie, not me last week. Remember you sent her to her room for cheating?"

Birkoff grinned at him. "That's right... Sorry Walter... I don't think she stayed in there though. You know how she is about stuff like that." Walter shrugged but returned the grin. Maybe things weren't too bad after all.

"Take the old man back," Jon ordered from the background. "I don't need him anymore. I don't need all the chattering." With the attention focused on Walter, who decided to start a bit of ruckus, Birkoff searched active on site id signals. The only ones not showing were Darcie's, Michael's and Nikita's. Knowing he was playing dangerously, he flipped on all three. Michael had given him access to his and Nikita's before he left for Perth. However, Darcie was an adjustable signal like his own. Michael and Nikita highlighted in green just like everyone else's but not hers. He reactivated and looked again. Darcie's stayed out. Now he couldn't help the smile. She was behind the shielding, probably in Madeline's old office. He wanted to shout.

Looking around again and finding no one watching him, he force closed the defrag and entered. Now to wait for a response. It didn't take long. Large red letters appeared on the screen. 'LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT? ABORT/RETRY/CONTINUE?' Then in the corner he saw a little gremlin face appear and then fly across the bottom to the other side and blink off the screen. He selected 'continue' and entered. 'DURATION?' appeared next. He typed in 'indefinite'.

'AUTHORIZATION?' appeared next. He typed 'JJ' and entered. He felt the hand close on his shoulder again. "Now what are you doing?" Jon demanded.

"The program gave me a command that asked if I wanted your protocol to stay in effect and for how long on whose say. So I answered it. Alright?" Jon was silent as he stared down at the top of Birkoff's head. He didn't trust the young man, but he had to admire the skills he possessed. He could come in handy with the things he knew.

Walter sat down on the briefing room table next to CC. She sat hunched in the chair, head lolled against the side, looking off into space. He stroked her hair gently and motioned to Operations and Madeline with his head. Cautiously the both moved closer. Folding her arms across her chest, Madeline regarded them both coolly.

"What's he plotting, Walter?" She asked calmly.

"Hasn't changed from earlier but the guy is getting real nervous. You can see it in his eyes though he's covering it up. He's realizing this ain't like being out on the usual playground. He's on our turf and the layout isn't nothing like he's used to." He reached down and took a hold of her limp hand. It felt like ice to him. "She's not good...."

"We're aware of that, Walter." Operations spoke through clenched teeth. "What was his problem?"

"Wanted me to verify something on the screen. A save program, I think, was running. Somebody let one fly. And it wasn't Birkoff. I went with a story though that is was automatic because I thought the kid was up to something. Jon bought it. Then Birkoff asked me if the poker game was off for tonight. Which is weird because the kid doesn't know how to play even Old Maid. Then he goes with this 'I can't cheat with an ace up my sleeve' line. I thought he was losing it a little, the pressure you know. No, he was trying to tell me Ace managed to get out and she's gotten into the system."

"Ace?"

"Darcie...me and Birkoff call her Ace. She's out of her quarters and hacking into the mainframe. I think I see some light at the end of the tunnel there, Oscar."

"One person on their own without full training, I doubt it."

"Let's wait and see what the little phenom does.

Madeline smiled a little as she looked around the room before she brought her gaze back to them. "Remember the whole reason we pulled her from field Ops? I agree with Walter. She might just be our saving grace."

"JJ? What the hell is that? Or it is a who?" Darcie stared at the screen with knitted brows. She needed to do some research on this one cause it didn't make sense to her. Darcie looked around her and shivered. It felt so eerie down here. And really alone too. She glanced back at the screen which showed only a blinking cursor. Worry and a bit of fear were setting in.

"I'm going to get in trouble for this. I know it. He is too. The boss is going to want to know how I got into the mainframe. 'Cause I got the encryption codes...I can get into just about anything'. Uggghhhhh!" She rubbed her eyes and then chewed on the side of her thumb. She rocked slightly as she sat. "He's gonna be pissed at Birkoff for this. Why do I have to ask so many questions? Why duh...moron, you did it again. Maybe getting them out of this will make Big Boss happy about what I'm doing." she thought for a moment and then shook her head. "Naw....not a chance on that!"

Now able to access the entire system, she queried for all occurrences of the letters together like Birkoff typed them in the database. If he was trying to tell her something she had to be able to understand what it was. The lists that started to fill the screen was long. "This is gonna take forever!" Displeasure started to show on her face as she read entry after entry.

Time dragged and frustration had set in. Here she was almost at the end and nothing yet. Then something clicked ,she stopped. There was the report from Doyle and one from Erik too. He's a cool dude. Wonder how he's faring in all this. They both mention this guy JJ....hmmm She referenced the file number and picked the mission selection is showed. Then she got a name, Jon Jae Min. Cross referencing the name got her an eyeful and a sick feeling in her stomach.

It was the man who had thrown Nikita to the floor in the briefing room and threatened her. "Min, Jon Jae... Red Cell Asian leader.....damn what hasn't this guy done? I bet you're on Big Boss' top 20 favorite target list. You'll be on Michael's too if he sees or finds out about what you did to Kita. What do we have here that you would want though?"

She heaved a big sigh. Nikita had warned her a while ago about secrets around here. You had to watch for them and for incomplete stories too. They had a tendency to trip you if you didn't keep your guard up. Here was not a good place to trip, somebody could get killed and that would break the rules. What she needed was help and to get that she needed to know where everybody was. It was easy to figure that since her room was locked that others were locked in their rooms too. But the dropped bulkheads from earlier were lifted and empty. This guy had them all stashed somewhere....

Suddenly she made a connection that she had missed the first time. This Jon was Red Cell. Michael had been Red Cell and they had been big problems because of his connection with them lately. In fact it seemed the only ones lately. Did they know each other? Could this be what the guy meant when he screamed that stuff at Nikita? Taking a chance, she tried to access Michael's file. The system shut down on her. She made a face at the screen. "OK for now my friend, but we will discuss this later....

Darcie began to make a list of priorities. First she needed help and that meant figuring out who was where. Then that person had to be sprung and a plan developed. They had to get into munitions too. She doubted that they kept any hidden anywhere else, that wouldn't be safe. She debated sending out a distress signal to the Agency. If Big Boss wanted one, it would have been easy enough to do without that Jon character knowing. So maybe that wasn't a good idea. Well first things first, figure out where the best chance of help was.

A smile crossed Darcie's lips before the serious expression took hold again. Whatever help she got at the moment would not be nearly enough. The thugs who had gotten into Section were armed. By the info that was starting to scroll by on her screen, everybody who had been inside at the time was all either locked in or heavily guarded. On some, she knew without even looking it was going to be both. The signal in the white room belonged to Michael and that was heavily guarded. Simon and Doyle were in holding cells, pretty far from each other though and Simon was heavily guarded too. Nikita's was on the move towards the few cells that were near the transport area. The guy was up to something there.

Everybody else who was important in Darcie's eyes was in the briefing room. "Too bad I don't know your signal CC, you would be cooling your heels for a while in a nice dark cold level 8 cell. OK, best shot at help looks like Doyle. Just my luck.10 to 1 he's gonna book on me, I know he will. Maybe if I make him help because of the Doc... yeah that might work. OK... so far, get Doyle then I think we move for Michael? I need to bounce this off somebody. There are so many of these guards. And none of us armed...."

She leaned back in the chair. "There's only going to be two of us. I could try for Nikita but they are going to guard her like the Hope diamond, too. Van Access is not that easy to get to with the tunnels. White room is easier, one dumps near the door. And there is that mechanical slash supply room there. A little heat may...." Suddenly a giggle burst out of her as a thought popped into her head about the diamond. "That thing is cursed. Whoever has owned it has died....bad omen for you Jonny boy. I think you acted a little too confident about your plans. Time to rattle your cage some. How do you feel about the dark? And I wonder what type of music you'd like to listen to later." With a look of satisfaction on her face, she started tapping keys again..

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Christine turned as the door opened to the near empty office. She had paced the length of it at least a hundred times. Jon had them all at such a disadvantage that she didn't know if any of them was going to get out of this. As she saw it was Jon standing in the doorway, she stood her ground. When she fought him, it made her feel somewhat more in control of her own fate. At least if she died it would be through her own doing and not passive circumstance.

"I thought you would have been taking advantage of the quiet to catch a nap."

"And have you catch me with my eyes closed and my guard down? No thank you."

Jon sat on the edge of the desk and studied her. "Don't you trust me, Paige?"

"As you seriously asking that question or trying out a routine for the comedy channel?" He sighed at her sarcasm.

"Do you have to be so rude? It's not that attractive." The lights flickered and dimmed but didn't go out completely. Jon looked over at the lights and frowned. Now what was the problem? He mentally shrugged. He was more interested in harassing Paige at the moment. He enjoyed getting her to react to him. Not only did he feel powerful as he did it, but enticed too. She had a lot of fight in her and he had seen her with Simon at her home. A snide smile formed on his face.

Christine raised both her eyebrows at him. "Rude? You're gonna comment on me being rude? I can make you a list a mile long, bud, that makes me look like Emily Post." Rolling his eyes, Jon got off the desk and grabbed her arm. "Get it off!" she demanded. She leaned back and pulled to the side to loosen his grip. His touch made her skin crawl. Digging at his fingers, she tried to pry them off her arm. She didn't like the look in his eyes and his body language.

As salacious expression took the place of his smile, he grabbed her chin with his free hand. The fingers pressed cruelly into the flesh to grip the bone underneath. "Did your lover explain to you what they do to a woman who gets too lippy with a man in the Arabic world? They cut her tongue out. You're coming close. Very close."

"50 years ago maybe. You think that's gonna scared me. Wrong! Do you know what your punishment would be for my treatment. I think it's still in practice... getting the genitals cut off. Islamic religious law I believe not Arabic. You dare to treat me and touch me as you have. Isn't there something in your homeland, too, about abusing the honor of another? I think it gives him the right to kill you. Don't think he won't take the opportunity either. Just a matter of who gets to you first... him or ME!"

Slowly Jon begun to move forward, pushing her towards the wall. "I told you before your will to fight excites me. Our meeting can wait. Since I've already abused his honor, making him lose it will be easy." His intentions were clear and for the first time since this all started, Christine panicked. She fought him with her hands, teeth, and feet. Still he managed to pin her against the wall, her one arm jammed up behind her back. He laughed deeply and it sent a fresh wave of panic up her spine. "I definitely think I will keep you around. You are much too good to let go."

The kiss he gave her was brutal. Christine tasted blood, not sure if his or hers. She tried to knee him but he was prepared for her attempts. All thoughts of training went out of her head as she fought against him. "I'm just wondering if the rest of you is as soft as your cheek ," Jon laughed against her ear.

With a growl of rage, Christine pierced his cheek with her nails and ripped down. Her only coherent thought was making him stop. He was not going to do this to her. All she needed to do was get to her pant leg then he would so regret ever touching her. The office door opened as she let out a small scream of rage. Jon's head whipped towards the door. "GET OUT!!" his voice echoing in the office.

"We got a problem," the voice sounded desperate. Christine felt Jon relax slightly and she swiftly brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she could. The air in Jon's lungs spit out of him in one gasp. With all the momentum she could gather in the small space she had, she rammed her fist into his gouged cheekbone. He staggered back, stunned by her attack. She brought her arm back to aim a punch to his throat when she felt him hit her stomach with his own fist. It doubled her over as he followed it with a slap across her face. Now she was sure the blood she tasted was hers.

The floor was under her so fast, she could hardly believe it. Colors spilled across her eyes and sounds echoed around the room. She could barely breathe and offered no resistance as he yanked her from the floor by the front of her shirt. He slammed her into the wall, pushing his forehead into hers and driving her head back against the wall. "Every time you fight back, you'll get this and worse! I will not stand for your insolence!"

Air was starting to come back into her lungs. She tried to speak but only a brief noise came out as he grabbed the hair at the side of her head. She weakly slapped out at him, wanting to hurt him back. He raised a hand to slap her again and she instinctively cringed. With a laugh he pushed away from her and she started to slide down the wall. Tears of pain and fright falling down her face. "Very good cringe. You'll be an expert by the time I'm done with you." He turned to the man who stood silently watching them from the doorway. "And what is your problem?"

The lights dimmed almost out this time. "Somebody's in the system. That kid is denying he can do anything about it. And we've got an outside caller who is demanding to speak to Michael or Nikita now. If he doesn't get one of them, he's bringing people in."

"Damn it! Watch the door! If the lights are having problems, we could have locks not working too. I want her to stay in here! She gets loose, you die! Got it? I'll be back" He stormed from the room, the door snapping closed behind him as he pulled the stop.

Softly the man spoke as he crouched down next to Christine's huddled form on the floor . "If you give in to him, it will be easier."

She raised her head off the floor. It was wet with tears and the blood from her upper lip. The bruise on her cheek now joined by another one which was red and starting already to swell. "No, I don't give in. I won't give in." The lights flickered again and then went out completely. She froze. It was dark but she wasn't alone. She swallowed back the terror that bloomed in her head. She had to try to maintain in control. Use the fear as strength. Like you told Nikita to use hers. Sensing his apparent lack of concern about what she could do to him, Christine's hand slipped down her leg.

Wiggling her fingers, she eased the thin scalpel out of the pocket. As she palmed it for easy use, the lights blazed back into life. Giving a silent thank you for the brightness, she looked pleadingly at the man. "Can you help me up?" She held out her other hand and he helped her to her feet. She smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you. At least you have manners." He gave her a bland smile back. Christine didn't move her one hand but cupped the side of his neck. Slowly she placed her hand with the scalpel on his other shoulder, moving it towards the back of his head. There was a spot at the base of the skull, if she hit it just right....they would need an autopsy to figure out what killed him. It left no trace to the untrained eye. Especially with such a thin scalpel....

"You're nice. It's too bad." she said softly. It was time to show Jon she was not going to give in to his lessons. Even though they had barely started, she was not interested in more. And every one he tried to teach would have a result for him to think about before he tried another.

"Too bad?" the man asked cautiously. Christine smiled at him.

"That you got to go. Bye." His eyes flicked wide and then rolled back in his head, crumbling to the floor from under her hands. She looked down at him, obviously she had the right spot.. "The 20s for the average male can be difficult. And he did say if I got loose, you were going to die." Her eyes flicked up to the door, her voice sounded dead. "I don't give in. I can't." Eyes still on the door, she knelt and put the barely spotted scalpel back in its secret spot.

Christine tried to stop the shudder that ran through her. Slowly she closed her eyes as she lowered her head. Voices from the trial that had sent her here yelled loudly in her head. She fought them back. That last whisper...I've never heard a more sincere thank you from a person.... The disbelief of his family had been so strong. She got to her feet but the shudders didn't stop. Her eyes were drawn back to the crumbled form at her feet.

"Oh God! What did I just do?.... 'abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous'....No!" She started to back up from the young man, guilt greater than anything she had felt since she saw Michael for the first time after Merle dying flooded over her. She had used her skills as a doctor for harm. The act had been cold-blooded and done in anger. The sudden noise at the door choked the scream in her throat just as it started....

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"I CAN"T!!" Birkoff shouted back at Jon. "It's not my doing! I don't have the faintest idea who is doing it!" Liar...liar....your pants gonna catch on fire! His head snickered back at him. But he wasn't about to give Darcie away. So far she was only checking things and by the playing with the lights trying to jar Jon. It was a okay trick, but he was catching the heat for it. However, he couldn't do much because of how she was doing it. She was directly accessing the mainframe terminal, bouncing from one sign in code to another. He was even beginning to think she was at the mainframe terminal itself. But how the hell did she get in if she was, it was too heavily protected.

"Jon...." came a warning voice. "He's ready to hang up and call in the calvary."

"Get the bitch out here now I said and make sure Winberry is in place. Tell who ever Nikita is on her way up...tell him she's stuck in the elevator or something. Somebody get Paige and haul her down there to him. I won't be long." They were already dragging Nikita out of the briefing and she was giving them a hard time. Every time she was pushed, she pushed back. Every threat from one of them was met with a sneer or a return threat. They shoved her right in front of Jon.

"What...." He held the cell phone up to her face. Nikita recognized it as Michael's. That meant it was Mac. Neither of them had checked it with a safe arrival message.

"You were stuck in an elevator. Michael has an emergency. That's it! You try anything, watch the monitor."

Nikita looked at the monitor to see Michael secured in the chair in the white room. One of Jon's men held a gun to his head. She closed her eyes as she heard him speak. "I'm not afraid of death Jon. Philippe beat that out of me a long time ago." He looked directly at the camera's lens. "Why not join me? You are a worthless piece of garbage that is going to get swept away like it never existed anyway. Save them some time." Jon made a cutting gesture with his hand. Nikita could see Michael's lips move but heard Jon instead.

"You won't last without him, you're not strong enough. You want to protect them all, do as I say." Nikita studied him for a moment and then snatched the phone. Somehow she had to get Mac out of the picture and focused more on Cala. Keeping things safe there were more important than things at Section.

"Yes!" She snapped into the receiver. Nikita knew she had to sound as annoyed as possible.

"Nikita, what the hell is going on? I've been waiting!"

She glanced at the screen again and then focused her eyes on Birkoff. He looked worried but it was better to see that than the scene in the white room. That would show up in her voice. "Sorry Mac....I've been stuck in the back elevator. I'm like the 6th person this week to get stuck."

"Then where the hell is Michael?" he shouted into her ear. She made a face at the loudness and the disbelief in his voice. The trick was just to get him off the phone.

"This place was pretty crazy when we got back. We had a team problem in Scotland and he's trying to handle it. He's trying to round up more security for a situation. And with Operations breathing down his neck so soon, he doesn't want to be disturbed." She heard the slightly annoyed sigh come out of Mac. Hopefully that meant he was calming down, she didn't know the man well enough to be sure.

"For now I'll accept that. But I want to talk to him as soon as possible. Tell him I called ! I have a few things we need to clarify for each other."

"When he's free....it might be a while."

Mac's voice was stern. "I can deal with that. But the next time I request a check in at arrival, I don't care what the situation is. I require my orders to stand in and over anyone else's. Including Oscar's. I hope that is clear to you and you make that clear to Michael as well. That's all. " The dial tone rung in her ear for a second before she folded it down and tossed it at Jon.

"Happy?" she asked sarcastically. What she had just done complicated the matter more than it had been before. But there was only one way this was going to end and they had to be the ones to end it. The lights went out completely with only the terminals blinking. Nikita took a deep breath and started to move. Jon did too, catching her chin with the tip of the knife he had used on Chris. Then she heard the gun loading behind her head as she tried to move back.

"Don't" was all he said. His eyes said the rest as the lights lit Ops again.

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Mac rolled the receiver back and forth in his hands. The girl was lying through her teeth. He was sure of it. He wondered if Oscar had gone back on his word and had started something. That would be a big blunder on his part. He shook his head. No, that had the wrong feel to it. She had mentioned Scotland and security. He was going to be cautious here. Very cautious.

The guarantees he had established for safe harbor to protect the two children and Claude's family were absolute. He took a deep breath, they affect his own family and his future plans, too. Besides from what Claude had told him, Jerrod was precious cargo, too. He hadn't bargained on that one. He hadn't believed it either. After seeing the boy, he saw the resemblance, Oscar's eyes and Madeline's jaw. He wondered how he would feel if Char had ever done that to him. Hide the existence of one of the kids, he couldn't imagine it. But the playing field it opened was vast and wonderfully useful. For once he had a good control of Oscar and for the first time ever, Madeline.

With an angry finger, he jabbed the intercom. "Andre!"

"Yeah, Mac?"

"Call Claude, tell him to increase the guard at the house. Something smells in Glasgow and it definitely not Char's cooking. Find me McHughes, too! She's got a job to do! I want her here in 1 hour."

"Do my best." Andre answered swiftly.

"That's all I expect, friend, all I expect." Mac let out a loud exhale of air. He didn't like problems coming from this so quickly. Maybe it was time to see exactly what these two young operatives were made of.

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The faint scraping sound above his head made Doyle look up. Hackles instantly raised, he waited on his feet. Lord knew the next stunt Jon was going to pull. What ever it was going to be he was going to be prepared for it. The guy had been acting like a delinquent playing with the lights for the past 2 hours and it had him annoyed. The constant on and off had made it hard to sleep. Jon was a dangerous man and the lights might only be the start of some plan of his. But it was coming off as being awful amateurish.

To Doyle though, being locked up felt all too familiar. He had relaxed into the state of mind confinement needed quite effortlessly. It was Maze all over again. Divide and then break their spirits, even if it was one at a time. Because then you had control. Wasn't that one of the main tenets that they based the need for prisons on? Yeah for some they were needed but...

The grate rising into the ceiling mystified him. Who in the world would be pulling the return for the HVAC system apart? Something appeared on the edge of the opening and then dropped to the floor. The black rappelling rope fell at Doyle's feet as he backed up a bit. Darcie's face appeared in the grate's square. Now he had gone from being mystified to absolutely dumbfounded. "Well are you going to use that thing or leave it hanging there?" Her tone of voice was stern but strained.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doyle couldn't keep the shock out of his voice. He knew he had left her pretty well out of it in her room. Whatever Rin had given her had put the little fireball on her butt. Operations' demand to send Darcie to her quarters had perturbed Christine's assistant. But it was better to hide her in her room after the fight with CC than it had been to have her in the open atmosphere of Medlab. Then Jon had hit and as Simon had said they were in a lock-down. How had she gotten out?

"Looking for somebody to help me get us out of this mess."

He shook his head as he looked up at her. "This is stupid!" His voice echoed around the room and she fought the urge to pull the rope back up and leave his rear right where it was.

"They are no more than 10 feet down the hall. Shut up and climb!" Darcie hissed harshly at him. Doyle considered for about 20 more seconds before he grabbed the rope. He looked up at her again with narrowed eyes, trying to make the best decision. There wasn't one. "Well?" she questioned him. wiggling the rope. With a sigh, he started up it. Darcie helped drag him in as she slid backwards. "Pull up the rope and put the grate back. Then follow me."

Darcie starting moving backwards and soon got lost in the dark. Looking around, Doyle swallowed hard. He glanced back down the hole, debating again. Whatever the little brat had cooked up, he knew it was going to be a problem. Yes, he was getting to the point of admitting she was a brain who could pretty much take care of herself. But she was taking a leadership role here. One for which she was neither prepared or trained.

"And I'll be damned if I am either," he whispered to himself. He looked down at the rope that now coiled on the other side of the hole.

"Doyle," came Darcie's voice. She sounded like she was gritting her teeth together. With a deep cleansing breath, Doyle put the grate back and moved carefully forward. The darkness closed in behind him but seemed to fade in front. He moved slowly, not sure where he was or how sturdy the duct he was in would be.

As his head passed a junction, he felt her hand against his cheek. "This way. Move as gently as possible some of the sections aren't bolted together too good."

Oh great....just what I wanted to hear. If I end up in the middle of these creeps on my back on the floor, I'm gonna kill her! Turning, he noticed that the duct was starting to go into a decline and widen at the same time.

Darcie's voice came out of the gloom again. "About 5 more feet and I'm going to stop. You hit my butt with your head, I'm gonna kick you."

"You're such a sweet girl."

"Yeah all sugar and spice or what ever that saying is," she retorted. Doyle couldn't help the snicker as he thought of her with pigtails and a pink frilly dress with white socks paired with black shoes. "What's that for?"

"Stifling a sneeze," he said quickly. There was no doubt in his mind she would have kicked him if he told her the real reason for the snicker. He heard the metallic squeaking of metal being pulled from metal. "What are you doing?" Things were getting lighter.

"Getting us out of the HVAC before the system turns back on. This is a duct that pulls out the air so it can be recycled. It's gonna get hot in a couple of minutes. That 's why I wanted you to hurry up. We're gonna drop into an access tunnel. It's only a two foot drop to the floor. Can you handle that?"

He could just make out a bunch of covered pipes and plastic tubes. Wires hung and wrapped around them. He was clueless as to where they were and what she was dragging him into now. "Shut up. Or I'll let CC break you in two next time."

Darcie gave a contemptuous snort. "I want to see her try. She screwed with me for the last time. I was fed up." She slipped out the opening and then beckoned with her hand. "Come on!" He popped into a dimly light tunnel where he could now stand, his head just brushing the ceiling. He looked at her as she stretched her back and arms out. Her face was a mess.

"Jesus, she did a number on you!"

"Looks worse than it feels." Doyle reached out to move the bruised side of her face towards him and he saw her flinch.

"Yeah, I bet. Rin said no concussion, right?" Darcie nodded. "You know it was a stupid thing to do."

"She started it a while ago. I had enough. I wasn't going to take it anymore." She brushed by him and started up the tunnel. He had heard unsaid things in her voice. The girl was scared. He felt that way himself a bit. The newness factor hadn't wore off yet so he didn't have a comfort level with this place. And with the Creep of the East taking over, he knew it wasn't coming any time soon. "Darcie...." She stopped. "Where are we going?"

"Mainframe. We've got things to do."

"There's no way to get in there without clearance."

"Right now there are only three of us in this whole place that have it. I manipulated the codes. I'm working on getting all mainframe control"

"Yeah? To do what? And what are three of us going to do about the fun and games around here? And anyway, I'm only counting 2 of us right now anyway."

She stopped and pivoted around to look at him with a stony expression. "Me, you and Michael. Now that I've got you, he's the next target. Then we take back Section. I'm going to need the mainframe to do that. There aren't enough of us yet. I'm going to need Michael's authorization codes too. I can't change them, they're attached to his personal file and I can't crack it."

Doyle regarded her closely. "And the plan is?"

"We'll work on it, after we get more people to do the work. I'd do it with just us but we're just not enough. Once we get Michael, we can do something about it. The important code is to lift the perimeter and quarter lockdowns. But since I can't crack his file that means we need the codes from his head. That means we've got to get him," she snapped as she turned back around and practically run up the tunnel. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Doyle followed. This was going to end bad, he knew it.

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

Chapter 10

Michael looked at the door as it opened. Jon smiled at him as it slowly closed behind him. There were voices in the hall but indistinct enough for Michael not to be able to tell who they belonged to. "How are you feeling, Michael?" Jon was greeted with icy silence and the same dead looking eyes as before. "You really ought to adopt a different attitude. It might serve you better."

That comment was rebuffed with a sound of disgust. Michael settled his head back and closed his eyes. After several tries, he had finally found a comfortable position for his back. Well, relatively comfortable as the chair was. It was meant to cause the detainee to feel enough annoyance without pain to force them to keep from relaxing. Information extraction carried its own pain. There was a bit of admiration inside Michael for the designer. He or she had either known exactly what they had been doing or experienced one hell of a stroke of genius.

"Given any thought to our little trade?" Jon strongly disliked the way Michael was acting. He was too relaxed or maybe was he just acting that way? That chair couldn't have been that comfortable. But then again, he had always had a hard time in the past determining just what was real and what wasn't with this man. Philippe had read him like a book. Jon never found the way to do it. He had usually taken Philippe's lead when he could. Otherwise he wound up taking things at face value which meant he had been wrong more times than he cared to admit.

"Some," replied Michael in a flat tone. "10 seconds really.....to decide.... no."

"You disappoint me. I remember when we first met how you cried at night for her. And your parents too."

"I was barely 6 then. I'm not now."

"No, neither of us are by a long shot. Sad, isn't it? We once held that bloom of youth in our cheeks and now it had become wrinkles around our eyes and gray in our hair." He gave Michael a bittersweet smile.

"More like scars..." he replied to Jon without a smile. How could the idiot possibly think he would trade Reese and Katie too for someone that only existed in his dreams? He had never been able to find Paige even with all the resources of Section One at his disposal. Nothing of her at all except the record of her birth and baptism.

"How can someone else's little bastard mean more to you than your own flesh and blood?"

"Reese is alive, not a memory from the past... or the mistake as you seem to have relegated him to."

Jon nodded his head. "Mistakes... I've made a few in my life. You... Simone... Martina..." He said her name with such loathing that Michael had to open his eyes to look at him. "...and that creature's offspring. You rub my face in it. Do you see the common thread here, Michael?"

"Yes, that you're obsessed.....with controlling people. It isn't real, no matter what you think." He gave Jon a quick sneer as he dared the man in front of him to do something about it. "Or maybe you've let every woman in your life walk all over you." Jon let the repugnance he felt inside from the remark show on his face. He was sick of Michael and he was sick of everything he seemed to represent. "You ever wonder why Philippe never let you take charge of anything. He'd be ashamed of this operation. Sloppy and poorly planned and executed. You don't even have your reasons straight. First Simone, then Reese with a little of Philippe thrown in. When is Elouette's turn?"

Bitter bile rose up in Jon's throat but he refused to react to the comments. He was well aware of what Michael was trying to do, agitate him enough to make major mistakes. It wasn't going to happen. "You're like a tumor in my life. Has been since the day Philippe tossed you on my bed before dawn and told me to clean you up. You disgusted me then and you still do. I shouldn't have that problem with a nothing like you. I should have just cut you out the first time."

"Then maybe you have a weakness to deal with. At least I aim for consistency. Seems like I am what I always was."

"You like your smart ass comments so much. Well, find a comment for this." Jon spun in his heel and slammed his open palm against the door. It opened and he disappeared through it. Michael could hear the struggle out in the hall and recognized Christine's voice. Coming back through the door, Jon flung her to the floor. She struggled to her feet and whirled around, her lip curled in a snarl.

For Christine, the only thing she could think about was finishing off Jon. She didn't care how much he hurt her in the process. Only one thing was clear in her mind, he didn't deserve to live. Because of him, she had become what she swore she wasn't and could never be. She had killed, taken a life and there had been no reason for it except anger. But Jon's would be different. It would be ok after what he had done to her, Simon, Michael and for what L' Araigne had done to her family. She was owed this one. She would make up for the other one later.

Her hands never got close to his throat. Jon met her attack, twisting her arm up behind her back as he spun her to face Michael. Fingers dug into her hair to keep her head up and facing front. She tried to scratch at his face behind her with her free hand and at the same time kick him with her foot. Jon had already anticipated the move. With a thrust of his own foot to the back of one of her knees he brought her to the floor.

"I'm going to kill you!!" she yelled out furiously.

Breathing a little heavier from her struggles, he laughed in her hair. "I'm still waiting for you to try" He looked up at Michael who still sat impassively as he watched Christine struggle with Jon. "Does the temper remind you of anything, Michael? Remember how we used to fight? And you would get so mad when I pinned you down? You grew out of that quickly. I miss that feeling of power. This is close though, she's not you. But you know what, my friend, I think I like her better. Not only that feeling of power but of pleasure too. She fights and it adds to the excitement."

Michael eyed Jon, he was up to something Whatever it turned out to be, Michael knew it was going to be some kind of threat on Christine's life to make him cooperate. She's not worth a single glimpse at Reese much less a trade. She's nothing to me... just another operative. Why her, he wasn't sure. Because she was close to Simon and Nikita? That was thin. There was the suspicion inside that she knew of Paige's whereabouts but...

"Tell him about Paige!" Jon shook Christine's head. Michael's eyes involuntarily widen as they shot to Christine.

"NO!" The word burst out of her in a scream. Her reaction shocked Michael. Jon started laughing in a way that reminded him absolutely of Philippe.

"Why are you afraid of him? Does the prospect of it bother you? Michael... do you notice the subtle shape of her eyes? Do they remind you of your mother's? What about the line of the jaw? In a way blunt like your father's, don't you think? I must admit plastic surgery perhaps even manipulation of the bone structure is cruel to force on a child but they did a wonderful job. I've looked, no scars at all. Smooth and soft, very nice, I assure you. I tested that also." He snickered against her cheek as she tried to shoulder his face away.

"The voice lessons paid off too. You can't hear the accent at all. At least I can't, what about you?" Jon was trying to make a point and feeling very good about it. Michael looked from Christine to him and then back again. There was a look in her eyes besides the anger. A look that said fear but it wasn't of Jon. Michael swore it was more of himself. "No comment? Well then let me introduce you. Michael, meet your long lost sister, Paige."

He pushed her forwards with his hands. Christine toppled down to on the floor. Trying to keep from crying in complete frustration, she pressed her forehead against the cool floor. This wasn't how she wanted him to find out. It was suppose to be just the two of them. In privacy was how she wanted to tell him so they could talk and she could justify herself. So the past could be explained. Her hands curled into fists, the nails digging into her palms.

Hard eyes were the only response Jon got from Michael. He shrugged and said flippantly, "I'll let you two share for a while. Maybe you'll feel different after you've talked to her. She must mean more to you than that little whelp does. She's your blood. He's nothing but a problem. Believe me, I know." The door clanged shut behind him. The only sound was Christine's muffled gasps against the floor.

"We don't have much time. Get up and get focused. Unlock the restraints." His words sounded like thunder in the room and it startled Christine. But she couldn't ignore the command in his voice. Shakily she got to her feet but avoided looking in his eyes. To do that would be too much. She wouldn't be able to hide this from him. All the barriers she had between herself and the world both inside and out were in various stages of collapse. As Michael started to gingerly get out of the chair, the room plummeted into darkness again.

Old fears suddenly overcame Christine. She had no defenses against the onslaught of her fears. The dark and the noises associated with it were on all sides. The things that came out of the dark if you looked into it long enough, closing in on you. Fears of being alone and no one there who really cared. The monsters were suddenly all there, arms reaching out. They were not wary of her as they had been in that dark room at Jon's. Not afraid as they were in the shadows of Simon's apartment. Not repelled as they were by the lights at her townhouse.

The wall was cool like the floor and she huddled against it, feeling like she was that lost child again. She wrapped her arms over her head, drawing her knees and legs tight up against herself. Papa used to call it her 'bubble'. She could hide this way and they couldn't get to her. But she would still be able to tell they were there. She would be able to hear their feet on the floor as they slid closer and closer. The whisper of the bodies against the wood and stones. She could smell it too, the dampness and the cold. The rot was the worst of all. And if she moved the creaks and groans from the floorboards as they moved from her weight. No sense in screaming, they wouldn't let anyone hear her. Besides the storm was coming, its rumble louder and louder...

The lights flared back to life with an audible sound this time. Supporting himself with one hand, Michael turned to look at Christine. It was time for some explanations. Especially about the lies that were being.... Her huddled form against the wall brought back floods of memories. Thunderstorms, loud noises, strangers, too much teasing and the dark. They all reduced Paige to pieces. Thunderstorms and the dark were the worst for her. She had always slept with her light on. As soon as it got dark, she would make Mama put them on. A clap of thunder would make her almost hysterical. He could never understand how she could close her eyes if she was so afraid of the dark.

Christine started mumbling. She had to because the sound of their approach and the deep rumble in the air was getting too much to handle. Her voice made them indistinguishable, it made everything easier to ignore. If you couldn't hear or see it then it didn't exist. That was what Papa always said but he was always wrong. The worst and most awful things in life were those you couldn't see or hear. You couldn't run from them.

"They can't hurt me... they can't hurt me," she whispered over and over. Moving silently to her, Michael knelt down in front of her. He wanted to deny the sight in front of his face was there. To negate the existence of the memory of Paige huddled in the corner of her room saying those words over and over to herself. She would never move a muscle except for breathing and constant repeating those whispered words.

The times he had spent sitting with her until the end of the storm so she knew he was there and not entirely alone. It had been so long since he thought about it. Her fear had scared him, always making him wonder where it came from. It had been the worry he felt for her in those times that had been the hardest to let go. Philippe had worked very hard to make him stop thinking about it. Michael's jaw tightened as he realized that it had been successful.

Christine could hear the nagging in her ears. No one had ever understood it. They were just thankful that they had her back and nothing was wrong with her. They just never looked inside to what was broke inside. Only worried about the bones, not about her. Mom and Pops had done the same. They never understood, never wanted to. Stop being such a baby... thunder can't hurt you... there's nothing in the dark that will reach out and grab you... leave the lights off!!! Things that happened in that life didn't matter in this one. How many times was that said to her?

To fit in she had to give up the fear. It oozed back every once in a while when she let down her guard, like now. She thought the wall she had built between her and that choking rotten black thing was taller enough and thicker enough to keep it out. It had seeped through the cracks at Claude's. Strange people, strange room, the stress of the hours spent repairing the damage of George's men and pushing away the closeness of Simon. Waking up and finding the light out, the panic had been overwhelming until she had found the bedside lamp...

Michael reached out a hand to her. Her arms were like ice. "Paige?" he whispered. He forced himself not to shake. This was not happening, all those times he had looked at her and thought in that instant how much she looked like Mama. Paige wouldn't have let things happen like they did. She would have done something...

His touch was like a hot fireplace poker. It snapped her from the fear that had a death grip on her. She slapped his hand away and seemed to crawl her way back up off the floor. No... don't touch... away... no... not like..." Michael stood up with her. Her body trembled and her eyes were dark with fear and something he couldn't put a name to. "No... don't, not who ya think..." she stammered, moving away from him.

"Talk to me! What is going on?"

She swallowed hard, pushing the dark part down where it belonged. Her voice was hoarse with emotion. "Jon wants Reese. Got this crazy idea about me. He grabbed us and used us to get into Section. Simon tried..." She dug her nails deep into her palms. The tears would start if she thought about him. Thought of what Jon could have done since he got into Section. Simon wasn't any use to him now. He had served his purpose. Simon... I'm scared... t'aime... Saying that, if only in her head, made her feel better. Almost like a confession, two of them even, Sylvia would have been proud. She pressed shaky hands against her eyes, pushing the tears back in. "The kids?" she inhaled deeply, "safe?"

"Don't brush me off. Please..."

A loud cry of exasperation burst out of Christine. "What is it with the two of you? Where did this idea come from? Do I look like you? No! Do I sound like you? No! I'm just Christine. I'm no one else!!! I'm just little Christine Bilwaka!!! Nobody special!!"

"Is he telling the truth? I need to know. Your life depends on..." He pulled back from the finger that was stabbed in his face.

"Lies... all of it. Make sure you understand me! It is all lies." Christine moved away from him to the door. She smacked her open hand against the surface of it. "Get me out of here! It's not going to get you what you want!" She knew he needed the truth but this was not how it was going to come out. The power of it was still in her hands. She was going to hold onto it till she felt right and comfortable telling it.

Jon frowned as he watched the talk between Michael and Paige. She was still denying it but the way Michael was acting was telling him something else. The question was at least in the man's head. But whether or not he believed the answer was something else. Silently he cursed to himself as Paige moved from the clear angle of the camera. Michael had done the same, Jon could no longer see the face to judge the reaction. This had to work. He had to tie up the loose ends before they ensnared him and dragged him down.

Even though he couldn't see them very well, the audio was impeccable. Jon could hear every breath, every movement of each of their bodies. She was asking about someone being safe. Paige could only mean Reese and the blonde's child. "Yes make him talk, Paige. Start to earn your keep. Maybe you won't need to be in class as long as he was..." He turned at the tap on his shoulder. "What?"

"We lost one." Helio muttered through a still badly swollen mouth

"You lost one?" Jon thought he had to have misunderstood Helio. His mouth was a mess. The dental work was going to be extensive.

"The one with Simon. We were doing that check you wanted. He's gone. We think we figured out the lights too." Helio paused to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth before it rolled down his jawline. He felt like a fool and wanted so much to pay the woman back for her well placed knee.

"Well..."

"It's a recruit. A girl, young and combat inexperienced but the problem is she's the geek's trainee. He's denying it but we found reports and she's the only one besides that guy that we can't find."

Jon looked back to the screen. "Get them patrolling. I want results within 45 minutes. Corpses are preferred." Helio nodded and slipped away. "OK you two make some of this day better for me."

There was no answer from the other side of the door. She smacked the door again and laid her cheek against it. Squeezing her eyes shut she asked softly, "Are they safe?" Michael didn't answer her. Christine turned to see what he was doing. He just looked at her with those eyes that were Mama and Papa at the same time. There was no clue to what was going on in his head.

As he looked at her, the idea Jon planted grew and grew. Though he knew that it was too far fetched, too incredible; hadn't wilder than this happened lately? Hadn't the dead from the past starting walking and talking again? The possibilities were there. The way she fought with Simone, the reaction to Merle's death, her help in the extraction, the affection for Katie and Reese, the deepening friendship between her and Nikita could all be signs. There was the fact she wanted to clear the air the night he went to Perth.

"About what did you want to clear the air?"

"Me and Simon... stay out of it. It's our life."

"What about Paige's li..." Their eyes connected as he said the name. Christine couldn't stop the tears from gathering in her eyes.

"Her life ended when she was 7 years old on the day they took you away. Remember a family is a relationship that makes you vulnerable. Becomes a liability to you. Unless you can hide it. Don't look for that which can be used against you. Weaknesses get you killed." She prayed hard that he would get her meaning. This was not the place for this. They had to deny the existence of what Jon said. If either of them acknowledged it, then either one of them could die. One way or another Christine was going to make sure that it was not him. He had Nikita and the two kids. They needed him. Right now denial was survival.

"Your fixation with finding her is a weakness. A weakness that can be used as leverage against you. Weaknesses sap an operative's ability to do the job. Your prominent concern should always be the mission. Regardless of your personal feelings about the subject or issue."

Her meaning in her words and the look in her eyes seeped into him like a deep chill. And more truthfully put than anything she had said to him before. He understood everything she wanted to say and couldn't. This wasn't how he pictured it but somehow it fit in perfectly with the rest of their lives. All this time so close and now to have to keep the distance still. "Weakness kills. Eliminate all factors leading to liabilities" Reciting the directives they drummed into your head as a recruit seemed so ridiculous here.

Nikita had ranted about them, informing him time and again that they made you inhuman. That you couldn't think if you kept repeating the stupid things in your head. They deadened you to the world. They took your heart. And now he finally realized she was right. Here he was faced with someone he had looked for, he had looked for her for years.... 'A heartfelt wish', one he had held close for years. But he couldn't do anything about it. She had to, in her own way, stay dead. At least to their world.

Christine couldn't miss the sadness in his voice or in his eyes. She gave him a weak smile. "Remember, it's all lies." Lies to everyone on the outside. Inside is what matters. That's all that has ever mattered. There was a sense of relief inside as she recognized his acceptance of what had to be done. Christine needed to say one thing more to him. To somehow say she was sorry for what had happened and how much it had hurt to admit she had been powerless to stop it.

With her back to the door, she could hear the noises on the other side of it. Jon was coming back. She had to say it fast. "I couldn't keep him from leaving no matter how hard I tried." She heard the catch in her voice. Taking a deep breath, she stood a little straighter. "But now I can keep you from leaving them," she mouthed at him. Christine knew he couldn't chance saying anything to her. He could plead with his eyes, which he was doing so intensely. She closed her own. It hurt too much to look.

The door opened and pushed her forward a little. Jon breezed in, an armed guard was with him this time as he left the door ajar behind him. She regained her balance only steps from him. He gave her a scorned look which she returned. One way or another she was going to help get Michael out of this. No matter what it took. "Why is he loose?" Jon demanded.

Good I made you mad! Stay that way! It makes it all that much better! she thought bitterly. "My patient was uncomfortable. He's still under my care from your last run in. I like people to have respect for my work. I already know you don't."

Jon's laughter rang around the room. Her spirit seemed indomitable. They were still trying to figure how she had killed the one in the office. "The remarks never stop. We enjoyed your handiwork in the office, my dear. You know, I thought our little fight in the office might have curbed them a little. I guess we shall have to try again. So tell me, did you play doctor as a child too, Paige?" Christine glowered back at him. They would have another try later and she was looking forward to him doing just that. It would be just the two of them and he would die ever so slowly. "Well, did she?" He looked at Michael as he savored the thought of tussling with her again..

"I don't remember. Philippe didn't like it when I thought about them. I don't know what Christine did as a child, either." Jon looked back to Christine. Michael cast a sideways glance at her to see her expression. She had a face on that said 'doctor' to him, impersonal, cool but so very impenetrable.

Jon shook his head, "No, I know the truth. I know who you are Paige. Philippe told me so. He didn't lie. The Agency grabbed you and hid you. I found out everything from George to confirm it. Give this up. Lies are not going to work with me."

Michael gave Jon a thin smile. "Haven't our lives been based on lies? What makes this any different? Do any of us really know what is and isn't anymore? We're done, Jon. We were done 14 years ago. We were out of each other's lives. Let's leave it at that."

"WE CAN"T!!! YOU CROSSED THE LINE!!!"

"IT WAS MY JOB!! I protected an innocent child as his mother, one of my superiors, requested. She sought a future for him. I've only insured the kind she wanted. And as my job, I'll die before I see it any other way. You see I do remember a lot that he taught us. I remember it quite well." Jon grabbed Christine's arm and shoved her to the armed guard at the door.

"Get rid of her." Jon spat out as Christine sneered back at him. He was so frustrated he want to scream. But that would show how powerless he felt at the moment. This whole operation was disintegrating before his eyes.

"It's not going to be that easy." She hissed as the guard started to pulled her forward. "It really burns you butt that someone else cares for your kid more than you do. He's so opposite you. So loving and so gentle. So very intelligent as compared to..."

With a growl of frustration, Jon grabbed her hair and yanked her head backwards to whisper fiercely in her ear. "I've a few more lessons for you to learn today. I expect you to study hard." He let go and shoved her forwards again.

"I'm looking forward to it, as...!" The gun clicking in her ear stopped her mid-word. Jon motioned towards the door with a malicious smile. Then he focused his attention on Michael as the door clunked shut.

"So you don't care about your sister?"

"I care about my sister but that's not her. She's dead, Jon. Just like the rest of us. Has been since the day he came into our lives and took them from us. We just don't know enough to lay down." Their eyes met, Jon's issued a challenge. But Michael just watched, he wasn't going to gain anything from this. There was nothing more either of them could gain except for further pain and regrets. Christine had been right, there was no going back to before. The past was set; there was only now and the future.

Jon's head screamed at him. There it was again, that way he felt about Philippe. He ridiculed him and he hated him. Jon could not fathom why Michael felt that way. The man had goals and aspirations. Dreams that had been annihilated. Goals that were pulled so far from his reach by Section interference that even Jon could not grasped them, not even touch with a finger tip. Philippe had been the way he was because of the hurt inside.

And as hard as he tried to get rid of it, but he couldn't. That had been Michael's purpose, at least at first. Jon had fully expected the little sniveling creature to be dead within a year. But year after year, he held on. Became the favorite in Philippe's eyes. Michael got everything, anger and praise. Encouragement, responsibility... His good luck charm, Philippe had declared. Something like a guardian angel and became so obsessed with the creature he called him 'Angel'. In the end, he had been broken down by it. In Jon's eyes, he had to greet death much too early because of Michael.

Even Simone who Jon always remembered as being part of life with Philippe was taken in by Michael. She let herself be used in order to keep him safe. And then that last phone call from Margeaux. The way she had sounded, the bitterness, hate and disgust in her voice. Her revelations not only about who she worked for and what she had taken from him. But then the final words about the child and how she was going to make sure he grows up the right way with the worst possible person you can think of.

Michael watched Jon carefully, trying to determine what was going through his head. He wanted this to be over, however this wasn't how he intended it. He tried to bury it for himself with the stone for Simone and admitting to himself the way he felt about Nikita.. That was where it was suppose to stay, everything was suppose to settle into place. The past just wasn't willing. Instead it had come roaring back in the eyes and smile of a small child and the secrets attached to him. The same eyes and smile he had grown to love already and knew he had to protect. That past that now threatened everything and everyone he cared about. There was only one way it was going to stop.

A smile that didn't come close to reaching Jon's eyes curved his lips. "Shall we finish this then?"

Michael shrugged indifferently. "It already is."

----------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------

The only thing filtering through the stark blackness of the hallway was the noise and it was loud. It looked so different in the dark here than it did in the light. The white room and the long hallway with cages that lead to it were in was disturbing enough but now is was enough to smother you. He didn't like it. He just wanted to get Michael the hell out of here and go back to Darcie's little hide out. Doyle looked over Darcie's shoulder to see her fingers flying across the keyboard she had on her lap. "Faster! You said you could only keep them out for 5 minutes. We've got less than 2 left!"

"It's still running the codes."

"I can smell the smoke now." Darcie sniffed as she waited for the last number to filter through. Doyle was right, the smoke had moved into the duct system. They would have to use the access tunnels. But they were safer than the HVAC anyway.

"It should keep them busy for a little while longer. That's it! Come on and work ,baby." Crossing her fingers, she stood. "This is monkeyed but I think it will do the job. What is it anyway with everybody who lives here? You all horde stuff." Carefully she inserted a card attached by a cable to the keyboard into the lock. Darcie held her breath as she waited. Her question to Doyle went unanswered.

It had taken a few tries to get the bits and pieces from Birkoff's room to work with what she had in her hiding spot. The waiting was getting to her even though only seconds had gone by. The small click came like an answered prayer. She frowned as Doyle shouldered his way in front of her and pushed the door open with his gun.

"Michael!" Doyle hissed into the room.

She had been livid when he made her take them to his quarters. To her, valuable time was being wasted. Then to find out he had weapons stored there had made it even worse. It was against the rules big time. But he was doing it. He had to mention, of course, her little forays into the substructure of Section and the hack job she had done on the mainframe. Just as they were going to help end this situation, so was his little stash.

It was some little stash though. She had felt herself go white as he pulled out an M-16 followed by a Blazer. He had wanted her to take the M-16 and she had refused. There was too much of one of them getting killed with the guns than without them. Doyle was disgusted with that and hoisted the Blazer up and around his neck. Reaching under the bottom of his bed, he pulled out two Glocks and shoved one in her hand. "You carry it and don't give me lip about it." The look on his face had shut her up.

The gun still felt heavy in the waistband of her jeans. Almost as heavy as the silence from the room they entered. "Backup lights in 5,' she whispered. True to her words as the dim lights came up, a yellow sheen covered everything. But it served its purpose, just enough light to maneuver in event of a power failure.

"Like damn night vision. Here!" Doyle shoved his gun at her and moved rapidly into the room. Darcie turned from a check of the hall and bit back a scream as Doyle sat Michael up against the wall. "Michael?" she heard him whisper fiercely. "He's out cold."

Darcie knelt down on the other side. "Think he's been in a fight? Maybe Jon or his guys?"

"Well he didn't knock himself out!" he hissed at her.

She glared at him angrily before turning her attention back to Michael. Doyle frowned as he watched her push some hair off Michael's forehead with a wince on her face. Then he heard her whisper, "I'll get Kita next, I promise..."

"Nobody's getting anybody else until we can get a..." Darcie placed a hand over his mouth as she started to stand. Her eyes were glued to the doorway. Doyle's eyes followed and he could see the vague outline on the wall across the door. He looked back and saw her grip on the rifle. She was going to use it as a club. With a silent exhalation of exasperation, he pushed the muzzle to the floor. Shaking his head he moved to the door. He motioned for her to start getting Michael to his feet. Reaching into his waistband, he pulled out the Glock and whipped around the corner.

Darcie heard the soft whine of the bullet as it exited the silencer. Then the sound of the shadow in the hall reacting to the impact of the bullet. Doyle was back to her side in a second. She moved aside as he lifted Michael into a fireman's carry. "There's a couple of more coming...I can hear them. I'll get him to the access panel but you've got to provide the cover!" With a nod of her head, they eased into the corridor. No one was in sight. Doyle moved quickly along as Darcie moved more slowly behind, watching for the owners of the footsteps she could hear. She had to give him as much time as possible.

She never saw who fired the first round at her. All she could do was react as Nikita had drilled into her head in every SIM training session. That meant to start a cover of fire and get the hell out of there. She covered the hallway with a wide burst of shells, backpedaling as she did. Rounding the corner and turning at the same time, she saw Doyle against the wall. He was grappling with one of Jon's men. Michael laid half in the hatch.

Charging the man on Doyle, she was able to surprise him and give herself enough time to bring up her weapon. With the butt end, she slammed him in the chin and he staggered backwards. Doyle caught him full face and he fell . She shoved Doyle towards the hole. "Get in, I'll distract them. They think that it's only me!" Taking off down the hall, she ran as loud as she could. Her hope was that they would hear her and follow. By the sounds coming from behind her, it was working.

But there were also noises coming from the direction she was running towards. And they were getting louder which told her they were not just an echo. Slinging the rifle over head and arm, she grabbed a railing of the catwalk and jumped it. The sound of her boots clanging on the metal reverberated on the walls, telling them exactly where she was headed. Checking behind her, at least 5 had converged on the stairs below her. Looking above revealed that there were 4 more on the move down to her.

"I'm screwed...." The passageway, now 4 flights below, looked clear. And the two groups were closing in on her. Darcie stopped and quickly assessed her chances of making a clear and uninjured jump to the next catwalk. They were nil. Taking a deep breath, she shrugged and said, "Well as that guy says about a good day to die...." She climbed the railing and catapulted herself over the side to shouts from both groups. Her landing on the floor was awkward, the gun throwing her off balance. She came down on her side heavily and angled on the stock of the weapon. The popping sound in her left shoulder was followed by a bolt of pain that went down to the tips of her fingers and down through her spine.

Her left arm now dangling at her side, Darcie scrambled back up and dashed back under the catwalk to a key panel on the wall. Fervently hoping she remembered the codes right, she struck the numbers to send a bulkhead out of its casing. There was nothing but the shouted orders of Jon's men.

Crying in frustration was not an opinion and this was all that plus getting very tiring. The effects of the fight with CC and the gassing were catching up with her. Her face throbbed and so did her head. Her injured arm was totally numb now but the relentless pounding in her chest from fear more than made up for it. That fear had crumbled her self confidence into dust. She was terrified that her attitude had sealed fates that at the start of this had only seemed a possibility. Now they were the only ones. Her next decision was sheer impulse.

Instead of going back to the panel to catch up with Doyle, she ran past it. He had directions back to Madeline's old office. She headed instead to van access. The detail she had taken on locations had shown Nikita being taken there. Darcie didn't know how hurt Michael was and they were well aware that she was loose. It all boiled down to one thing...they were going to need Nikita.

Never had getting to Van Access seemed to take so long. Images of things she had done and talked about with Nikita ran throw her head. All she wanted right now was the quick wink Nikita would give her when Darcie felt mad enough to lose it. So engrossed in her thoughts, she wasn't keeping her attention on her surroundings. It was easy for the man hiding at the corner of the last holding pen to trip her.

Darcie crashed to the floor on her left side. The pain ripped through her arm as she slid along the floor. The red in front of her eyes made it next to impossible to see for seconds that went on much too long. Like a dream sequence form a late night action movie, her vision cleared. It made the muzzle of the Beretta seem incredibly close.

Walter's words came back to her, "Some day what comes out of the end of that gun will be what keeps you alive. Or it could be what keeps your team members alive." It was something she thought she would never actually have to face with being switched. From far away she heard him arm it. With a sound like a wounded cornered animal, she brought up her good arm. His eyes registered the Glock in her hand with a mocking look just as she squeezed the trigger rapidly.

The dreamy effect ended with reality crashing down on her as his limp body did. A scream came from somewhere and bounce off the steel walls. As it died away she realized that it was her own. That recognition came at the same time as she felt dampness on the front of her t shirt. Gagging in revulsion, she rolled the body away and struggled to her feet. The noise coming closer meant they were too. Looking quickly around, she spied the narrow space between the wall and the side of the last holding pen. Taking a deep breath, she shrunk into the shadows of the space.

It gave her a clear view of the men as they sped past her and out the jammed open door. It was a shock to see them sidestep and jump over the prone figure on the floor. It was one of their own and they had no more worry of it than a puddle of water. She noticed not a single look backwards. Their actions only added themselves to her own self disgust. Section would have stopped for their own, right?

Silence enveloped the holding area and as it stretched out, Darcie slipped out of her hiding place. She couldn't really describe the way she felt except that it didn't feel right. Nothing inside or out seemed to be the way it had been just a few moments earlier. One thought was clear in her head though. Ronnie would have been ashamed of her, if not completely pissed off too. Darcie turned to look in the direction she had been traveling. They would start back this way as soon as they realized she was no longer running ahead of them. Considering the noise she had been making to entice them, that wouldn't be long.

Her palm had grown sweaty around the grip of the gun that she held so tightly. Easing around the dead man took her a few steps but she couldn't bring herself to step over him. She had already done enough to him, she couldn't step over if as if he was nothing. As Darcie came around the other side of him, she saw the evidence of what she had done, outlining him on the floor. Now the good hand became as numb as the one that was hurt. The gun slipped and clattered to the floor. The urge to gag struck again, stronger than before. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she tore up the corridor. Any place was better than this.

End of part five...

written by Tammy

Continue on to Fait Accompli, part six

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