The Policy of Truth II

written by Tammy

{Song snippets belong to: In Chapter 4; 'I Feel You by Depeche Mode from the album 'Songs of Faith and Devotion'.}

Chapter 3

"You ready to look, Ace?"

Darcie opened one eye to look at Walter. He watched her tighten her lips into a thin line and immediately close her eye again. The head shook back and forth. That clearly meant no way.

"Chicken Little....Pock...Pock." Birkoff offered encouragingly from the other end of the table.

"Screw you, Birky!" Darcie kicked the leg of the table, trying to move it down into Birkoff's stomach.

"Didn't know you were attracted to me like that. How long have you wanted me?" Birkoff was already backing away as she sprang off the stool after him.

"Payment time!" she growled as she shot past Walter who grabbed her around the waist and yanked her in front of the laptop screen.

"Good work, kid. You got her moving. Punch in your password, Ace. Let's look at your scores." Darcie crossed her arms and glared at the screen as Walter spoke. "Birkoff can figure it out if he has too. You could embarrass yourself. For some people passwords are very personal."

"Not me. Plain Jane, nothing revealing and I'm not going to say it either. And I know you can't find it because the system dumps every 2 hours. I haven't used it in days. Both of you go to hell."

"That's ok....the Kid knows all, sees all. Observe..." Birkoff reached over and typed 'doyle'. The screen disappeared and then numbers began to scroll up on it. A grin appeared on his face. "She goes jelly when she sees him, Walter. It is hilarious!"

"You lying sack of..." Darcie hissed at him, her face red. "You will be dealt with, I promise."

"Really?" Birkoff smirked at her. Darcie was fun to tease and didn't get all defensive the way Caroline did. She would get mad at him and not talk to him for days. Like she had been lately. In fact she was barely talking to him. She had been on down time too and not in Section. He was beginning to wonder if maybe they needed to pull away from each other for a while. She was beginning to get restless. Saying how she wanted back in the field again. Her work had been slipping too. He was covering as much as possible but he knew he wasn't getting it all.

Birkoff was stressed and he had looked for an outlet. Darcie had turned out to be that. She had been a snot at the start. But the longer she had hung with Nikita, the better she had gotten. She had asked for help with a programming dilemma one day and they had hit it off. She had become his favorite target to abuse. Of course that required retaliation. It meant first Darcie counter-attacking by yelling and then getting even.

She was pretty creative too. The gremlin she had infected his computer game system with was a nice piece of work. She'd even named the damn thing across the back of the shirt it had worn. Every time he had tried to play a game for days, 'Stripe' would pop up and steal his 'man'. It had been frustrating to solve. He had taught her a little too well. "Payback for Stripe."

Grounding her teeth together, she intoned, "Stripe was mild, you just wait. Geek!! That movie had a sequel. I will too!"

"I'm so scare....."

"Are either of you looking at the screen? Or just enjoying flirting with each other?"

In unison, they declared loudly, "We are not flirting!"

Walter ignored the comment. He let go of Darcie and shoved her over to Birkoff. An evil grin flashed unto Darcie's face.

"Mine!"

Birkoff started to move around the table. "Ah, now wait.. you wouldn't hurt a man with glasses would you?"

Darcie stalked slowly towards him. "Those can be removed."

"100%*, 96%, 98%, 88%, 89%..that could use some work...100%, 100%, 75%....oh what happened there? 78%, 80%...not good here."

"75%? Where?" Birkoff forgotten, she scurried back around the table to look at the screen. "Cause he smelled!"

"Personal hygiene of a mark is not a valid reason," Birkoff said as he leaned his chin on Darcie's shoulder. "78% for scenarios? They aren't going to like that."

Walter could see her frown from the side. "Ace, what's the problem there? You know 85% is minimum for passing on that one, don't you?"

"Yeah," Darcie said softly. She had known that one and the mark solos were going to cause questions. Connor said he was going to be as generous as possible on the grade. And he had been, he was great throughout the test too. She just couldn't bring herself to kill any of the attackers.

Wounding, maiming, scarring for life were all good alternatives to death in her book. But it wasn't in Section's and as Nikita had on several occasions threatened to tattoo on her skin somewhere the only book that mattered anymore. Her own was out of print and banned to boot. The solos were just not comfortable for her. Plainly put she didn't want to do that kind of stuff. Nikita had even stuck her with that nice guy Erik she was working a lot with, but she still couldn't did it. The whole idea of it made her sick to her stomach.

Nodding, Walter continued to look at the screen. The kid needed some encouragement. Nikita had asked him for some hints a couple of weeks ago. Darcie couldn't make the kill and it had Sugar worried. Obviously what he had suggested to her hadn't worked as the scores revealed. "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. You don't want to have to make that choice of one of them living or dying."

"I thought the success of the mission was the only thing to worry about."

"Primary worry," Birkoff said. "Getting your team back here in one piece or at least all alive is the next."

"But you're telling me to make that decision for someone else. Someone I don't know anything about. You're asking me to play God or Fate. I can't do that. Ronnie felt that was wrong. I do too. That was the one thing you didn't do. You don't kill. I promised her I never would. Because it makes you worse than the person you killed."

"Then you're OK with somebody making that decision for you?" Walter said brusquely.

Birkoff could see the rigidity spread through Darcie's shoulders. She was getting ready to argue the point with Walter. He had heard her and Nikita go at it in the hallway a week ago over the same subject. Nikita hadn't gotten anywhere either. He figured it was time to change the subject and maybe he could get her alone for a while to talk about it with her. Tell her about his own experiences and get her to see why the need was there.

"100% with an asterisk...hey, techno was a lark for you. Did you change the program like you threatened to?" Darcie nodded as Birkoff brought up the note the asterisk indicated. " Says 'warn recruit to keep hands off of testing program parameters.' That's my girl!" Walter backed up as the kid threw his arm around her shoulder, a finger pointing to the screen. "However, Nikita's gonna beat you for some of the scores on this. You're ready for the extra work, aren't you? She's going to get you acting lessons for mark solos if you aren't careful."

A smile crossed Walter's lips as he watched the two of them. Birkoff had changed the subject because he was trying to avoid Darcie losing her temper. Maybe he planned to corner her later about it. It was becoming obvious to Walter that they were getting to be buddies. To him it was good to see Darcie expanding the group of people she allowed herself contact with. Maybe the girl was learning to open up a little.

He remembered when Nikita had first picked Darcie, the girl was a rotten little brat to put it nicely. He could only wonder what Nikita had seen in the snot. Gradually though Darcie seemed to mature, losing the attitude and showing the real person underneath. She was a scared and lost girl. That was what Nikita had seen and completely understood. Wasn't that the Nikita that had come into Section One and turned the place on its ear? The memory made him chuckle silently.

Michael had been the first person she accepted after Nikita and then him and Chrissy. She was still wary around Simon, but working on it. Simon was a tough person to feel comfortable around. Anybody who was built like him and looked the way he did made people wary. No matter how different he was once you got to know him. Birkoff however, was a recent addition but the closeness had developed fast. Ace had a penchant for tech like Birkoff did. He had noticed many a late night in the past several weeks that the two had spent at the terminals in ops. Goofing around, playing and acting like their age. But at the same time, Birkoff was sharing systems with her. And the girl learned them fast.

Darcie's comments caught his ear. "But she doesn't like me much. I think she feels threatened."

"Naw..."

She shoved his arm off her shoulder. "Yeah, open the eyes, Birky. Caroline doesn't like me hanging with you. I've seen the looks."

Tapping a few keys as Darcie glared at him with her hands on her hips, Birkoff brought up Nikita's old scores and tiled them with Darcie's. "Creamed her on tech, a little bit better on language, even on weapons, in combat scores and mark solos she whooped your butt big time... 100% on both."

"So she can fight, big deal. Look who trained her! She takes him on for fun and sometimes wins! Besides, she's got the looks and can pull the sultry stuff off, I don't. She 's not afraid of men, I ...never mind."

Birkoff pushed her shoulder lightly. "Aww.. Chicken Little ....you're kinda cute in your own way."

Knitting brows and shaking her head at him in dismissal, she looked over his shoulder. "What's Boss II standing there looking so serious for? Is she going to call me on the carpet for those scores?"

Walter and Birkoff both looked to the door. Madeline beckoned to Birkoff who shot a quick look to Darcie and Walter. He swallowed hard as he looked back at Madeline. She stood there patiently. "Man, I hope she didn't find out...." He started forward.

"What?" Darcie hissed

"Later." He stopped in front of Madeline and they exchanged some quiet words. Slowly they walked away together. Darcie looked over at Walter with worried eyes.

"What's up ya think?" Walter shrugged in answer to her question. "Was he doing anything out of the ordinary for anybody he wasn't suppose to be doing?" Together they moved forward and looked out the doorway up towards Operations' loft. They watched Operations hand Birkoff a piece of paper and then a hand on his shoulder. With a enraged gesture, Birkoff pushed the hand away and hurried from the room. "What the heck was that?" Darcie said softly.

Birkoff came out of the tunnel at a rapid pace. His hands were clenched to his sides and his look was murderous. Braving the consequences, Darcie stepped in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"Leave me alone!" The malevolence in his voice made both her and Walter blink. With a hard shove, he pushed Darcie out of his path and ran down the opposite corridor. She followed without a backwards glance. Walter looked up again at the loft. Both Operations and Madeline gazed down. With a sad seeming gesture, he was motioned to come up. He really didn't like the feel of this.

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

Sleep only lasted about an hour for Michael. The dreams had started and through sheer force of will, he pulled himself from them. He leaned on the railing of the apartment's balcony, remembering how it had felt to live here. Many a night had been spent just like this, leaning and looking off into the distance. It had been easier to see then, more buildings had been built in past 7 years. Had he moved into the cabin that long ago? Nodding his head, he conceded it was. It was one of the few things they hadn't found a way to take from him.

He looked towards the doors, hearing in the memories in his head, Simone calling him to come to bed and close the door, the whole apartment was freezing. Besides they needed to talk, Section subjects, something they had done a lot. With a sigh, he looked up, the last quarter of the moon was barely visible and there were only a few stars out from the high cloud cover. The air was definitely cold but he refused to go in and find his shirt. He felt alive with the wind snapping at him occasionally, the chill seeping into him. Carefully he folded her memory away. The only thing that mattered was the present, right? Michael frowned, that was something he would have to work on. It was best to leave the past in the past. It had reared back on him too often and made him and Nikita suffer.

It occurred to him that for the past several weeks, he had felt out of touch with himself. That was strange because he hadn't even realized he had felt settled. It was only after that feeling was gone that he had know it was missing. He had needed to be with her tonight. There had been the urge to talk. To readjust things and to reveal things. There had been the demand just to feel normal for a while. To indulge in that feeling that was strange and yet something he thought he could get used to.

And that he only found with her. Never had felt that way before either. Not even with Simone and he had loved her deeply. Maybe there had been too many shared experiences, maybe because she had been as dark and closed as he was. Nikita was the opposite in more respects than he cared to give thought too. When he relaxed enough, she would get playful and he would find himself laughing. Her sarcasm was just another part of a great sense of humor. He envied Birkoff and the ease he seemed to be sharing with Darcie. Nikita and he needed more of that.

He had made a passing comment to Raymond about it the other morning as they had sat in Michael's office. The discussion had started out as a talk on the stages of grief. Somehow it had gotten around to Nikita and then about how he felt their relationship was going.. He still had yet to figure out how Raymond had gotten the conversation around to that. As Walter had declared Raymond was as smooth as a silk nightgown on a beautiful woman.

Michael snickered a little with a shake of his head. Walter was a character and he had hit it right off with Raymond. Ironically, they were almost the same age though he could have sworn that Raymond was younger. They shared similar experiences in the 60's and were having a grand time reliving them together. He and Simon had listened to them for about 30 minutes yesterday and given up. The rapid change of subjects and names mentioned had them hopelessly lost and confused. It was about time Walter had someone to reminisce with, nobody else around there really could. But then again he didn't know anyone who had ever dared....

The dreams had started off gently but now she was caught in one she couldn't back away from. She was there in that house again. Hearing his words that he was speaking and the echo of his threats from the night before. This time he had a face, unlike all the other times. He had always just been that 'man'. Now he was Taylor and once again she couldn't stop anything from happening. She let loose a scream of rage and fear over her helplessness. In her dream, it echoed off walls of the hallway he had her cornered in. In the bedroom, it was a faint whimper that did not reach Michael on the balcony.

She could smell his sour breath and his sweaty body too. "The judge gave you to me. You're my little bitch now and you better do as I tell ya or I'll make you hurt really bad. Do you want to know how bad? Do you want a taste of it?" She ran down the hall chasing the figure in the black robe. The figure that dragged her momma behind it. "No bring her back! I want her back! You can't take her!" Figures loomed over her. "Leave you don't belong here! You're nothing but a little street creature! Go back where you came from!" Momma grabbed her and spun her around. "I never wanted you! You were a burden from the day I had you. Should have left you there. Nothing but trouble! Coward! Little slut!" Momma was holding it tight and keeping it from her. She grabbed at it but Momma pushed her back. "No you gave it away! You can't have it back! You can't change your mind now! It's over and done!"

Momma shoved her away and she fell through the floor to Elouette's feet. The revolver shoved against her chin. "Should I pull it Nikita? Give you a taste of what all the others have gotten from you? Don't you want to taste lead? It feels so good going down. Or do you want to feel it instead." The barrel slammed into her forehead. "Don't you want to feel what I felt just so you could save him? Does he mean that much to you? Do you really love him enough to save him from big bad me? Are you strong enough bitch? Are you brave enough, whore? And do you want to leave him before just like you've done before? You didn't have the guts then and you don't now. Run away like you did before. Give up! It's the only thing you know how to do! Abandon him just like..." She lunged at Elouette. It had to stop! The gun snapped her head sideways as it was slammed into her jaw. She hit the floor with her head as the girl next to her slid to the floor in a heap. Screams echoed around her but she couldn't find them. It was dark! So black. Everything was wet and sticky. All she could smell was blood and burning...God don't think about it. Jayme was still alive get her out.

Got to get her out. Elouette was mocking her again. How did she get here? Was she somehow behind all this? "Are you brave enough, whore? Weakling, coward, run like you've always done! We don't want you here!" Light! Got to get to that light. Jayme felt so heavy and she was screaming so loud. How could anyone scream so loud? A door. I found a door. Jayme? Jayme, why are you so quiet? Light got to take a look at her. The door fell open to a cement parking lot deep in shadows. She cradled Jayme's head against her shoulder. But it wasn't Jayme it was Momma. "Momma talk to me. Please momma. Don't leave me again." Momma's eyes popped open and her hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer to the blood oozing from her chest. She still held the small object in her arm, tightly gripped. "See what you've done. Just like you've done to so many others. Now you've done it to me and her. Never touched her. Never felt her. Never loved me. Never loved her" She pulled at Momma's arm and at last could see the empty blue eyes in the face tucked against Momma's side. She screamed, "I did the right thing!" Momma suddenly grabbed her hair and she screamed as she struggled to get away. "Feel your fear! See your cowardice! Experience your abandonment!" echoed with her screams.

Michael's head snapped around with the first scream. He was in the bedroom before it even became another. Nikita was already on her feet, sheet wrapped around her and staring at the bed. She jerked her eyes up at him as he touched the hand that clenched the sheet to her chest. He could see the fear and the anguish in her eyes.

"Only a dream," she whispered with a wane smile shutting off the look in her eyes like they had a switch. He tried to pull her close but she pushed him away and left the room. Michael heard the bathroom door close and then the sound of running water. Within a minute she was back out and going down the steps. He followed her to the little kitchenette. Still silent, she grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took a long swallow. Deep in thought, she slowly moved the bottle back and forth across her lower lip.

"Are you alright?"

Feeling weighed down and weary, Nikita looked up at him. "Yeah, great. I'm getting used to this." She tightened her robe around her, pulling the collar up a little closer to her throat.

Taking the bottle from her, he pulled her towards him. "Tell me about it."

"First time he ever had a face....you don't want to hear it." Nikita tried to hide the sadness in her voice but it wasn't possible.

"I do. Share the bad and the good." He kissed the top of her head as she slowly recounted the dream to him. "This was the dream you had in my office when you broke the window."

"Yeah...only this time it started with Taylor."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag him up." Suddenly he let go and moved away from her, raking his hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling. Instinctively Nikita pulled the robe tighter around her and moved over to the settee. She felt dejected and alone. It had finally come to this.

She curled up on it, pulling her feet under her. Several tears rolled down but she brushed them away. Nikita knew this would happen. He would not be able to handle the thoughts of her past and he would pull away. She had just hoped it would not be so soon after her confession. Letting go was the only thing to do. She would figure out how to deal with Katie later. "If it's any consolation, I figured you would act this way. Just leave and forget about it. We weren't going to make it anyway. Too much against and not enough for, story of my life...."

Michael turned to the kitchen area, saw her at the settee and went over. "What do you mean 'act this way'?" He crouched down, a hand on her knee, the other on the cushion.

"You don't need to pretend. You know all of it now. You know what kind of damaged goods I am. No hard feelings. I'll figure something out. Excuse me...." She pushed him aside and got off the settee. "I'll find your shirt so you can go."

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "I'm not going anywhere." Nikita tried to take his hand off her arm but he refused to let go. She tried again. This time he let go but grabbed her head between his hands, forcing her eyes to his. "Listen to me. What happened to you then hurts me, because I see how it bothers you. But that is not going to make me walk away from this. I don't think any less of you for what took place. You were not at fault. He was wrong. All the fault is his."

"Michael, stop th...."

"No, you listen to me. I will be very truthful with you here. It does not matter to me. OK? You will get through this and I will be right behind you. Just like I have been before. But I promise you this..." Michael's voice hardened. "... Nikita, if I ever see him or find him. Which right now, I am really holding myself back from doing. I want to make him pay for how he's hurt you and how this has affected Katie's life.... I'll kill him Nikita. He will pay for every last tear. Do you understand me?"

Nikita closed her eyes and nodded her head. "I don't want to hear..."

"Shhh...one more thing. You need to be proud of yourself. You're full of life and light and everything else that's good. Look at the wonders you've done with me. I've done things because of the will you've given me that I could have never accomplished on my own. You've given me back parts of myself that I thought were gone forever. You committed an tremendous act of love and trust in others by giving Katie a chance at a good life when she was born. And another by wanting to make sure that Reese has as close to a normal childhood and family as possible. Could your mother had done that? No, but you could. You've taken a hellish life and gotten some good out of it."

He brushed away a tear and she smiled at him. Nikita loved seeing the earnestness in his eyes. He wanted her to believe everything he was saying so badly. "What did I call you earlier, sappy? Your picture is about to appear in Webster's next to the definition."

"Let it. As incongruous as it would be. I mean what I said too. I love you and I'm proud of you." He kissed her softly.

Nikita kissed him back. "I love you too." She wrapped her arms around him and he hugged her tight. She let her eyes drift to the doors and the gently rippling curtains. Good doesn't last for long...

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

Birkoff laid on the large pillows that covered the floor of his room. Darcie laid on her stomach on his bed, her chin propped up on her hands and her legs slowly swaying back and forth.

"Why? Just 'Goodbye, I'm sorry.' That's all I get? Is that suppose to make me feel better?"

"People don't kill themselves because they want to make you feel better, they think it will make things easier for themselves. They don't have to stick around for the aftermath. It's the quickest way to end the agony of your life. You're not thinking about the other people, the ones who care....only the ones who don't. And it seems like that is all there is."

Birkoff sat up and looked at her. "You seem pretty knowledgeable about it."

"Felt it at times. Saw it too many ways on the street. Ronnie never let me follow through ........ life is messy, Birky and then there's death." Darcie rolled over on her back and looked at him upside down. "Did you love her?"

He shrugged as he wrapped his arms around his legs. "Yes I think I do, I mean I did. Guess I have to think of Caroline that way now. I should have known that something was going on."

Darcie shook her head. "No present because she's inside somewhere. Ronnie's still with me. Even though it's been 2 years. And don't kick yourself. You're looking for it now. You never do before."

"Was Ronnie your boyfriend?"

Sadness to match that in Birkoff's voice now was creeping into Darcie's. "No, she was the leader of our sister group. Most called us a gang but we were a family. The only one any of us had. She took care of me and made sure that I made all the right moves. But that shit burned her every night...more and more until nothing made her feel right. Never thought she would do it. Came back from a food run, she was laying there....whoa never mind you don't need to hear this."

"Is that why you hate everybody so much?"

"I don't hate everybody. I just keep them far away. That way if they have to leave, it doesn't hurt because I don't care about them. Being mean and snotty is the easiest way. Some of you guys are the exception. Like Nikita, you, Michael, Walter and the Doc. You're pals. If one of you leaves it's not because of they way you feel about me. Though it's gonna hurt like hell if it ever happens. "

With a nod, Birkoff laid back down on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling again. "I feel empty."

"Yeah, that's part of losing somebody you cared about. You probably want to be alone, I'll leave." She was off the bed and almost at the door.

"Darcie! No, I don't want to be alone. Stick around?" Turning with a half smile on her face, she flopped down on the floor next to him, wrapping around one of the huge body pillows.

"Tell me about her, I didn't know Caroline very well."

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

Madeline carefully inspected the wide arrangement of papers on her desk. She was impressed with the assortment. Martina had constructed quite the paper trail. Reese would have no problem tracing his parentage. The question would be if these were to fall into his hands, would he want to? To find out that your mother was a counter-terrorism operative who had been undercover at the time she was being intimate your father who was a terrorist....what a pleasant find, she thought sarcastically.

A frown crossed her face. No, that was not a fate wished on anyone. It was outlandish to even think it possible. More sounded like one of those films from Hollywood than a real life event. Madeline sighed, but here, on top of her desk, was spread the very real and possible. She picked up Reese's birth certificate and looked at it. Rome... January, '97...yes Oscar had been there at the time. He had been there for Martina as he always had been. If she hadn't seen Reese with her own eyes, by now she would be suspicious of who the child's real father was.

She looked over some of the other items that she had found in that envelope which had casually shown up by her door at her townhouse. She knew who it had come from. CC McHughes had not visited them in a while but she left a little reminder that she was still watching. The girl must have grabbed it at Claude's. Michael's debrief as well as Nikita's had indicated a folder and video tape taken from Greg's. Most of the rest of the papers were stock certificates and trust fund agreements. If anything, Reese would be a rich man.

Her lips tightened as she picked up the video tape and turned it over thoughtfully in her hands. What had the woman recorded on the tape? A tender good-bye to Greg or one to Oscar? Perhaps neither, it might be an explanation to Reese as to why he had been raised by strangers. If he was anywhere as intelligent as he seemed, he would prefer the upbringing by the strangers and not what he would have had with either his mother or father. As if being with either of them had ever even been a possibility.

Curiosity got the better of Madeline. Getting up, she popped the tape into a slot on her wall console and waited. Martina as she always remembered her gradually became discernible, so life like ...

"I imagine as you watch this I have been out of your life for a pretty long time. And you are probably wondering who this person is talking to you. I am your mother. My name is Martina. My last name is not important. I left that behind a long time ago. Perhaps you know of me already. If you do, thank the couple that raised you. They are both very special to me.

You may even wonder why you grew up with them as your parents. I picked who I thought would give you the most meaningful life in which you would be loved almost as much as I could love you. Please I hope that you have never thought this happened because I didn't love you. You were the most important thing in the world to me and that was why I made the decisions I did. I am going to try and explain my world in the hopes you will be able to understand why I had to make them.

I should probably begin with who your real father was.... but maybe it is best that you know me first. You may remember me as tall with short light colored, sometimes blonde or brown hair and eyes the color of yours. Most of the world knew me with brown eyes and chin length brown hair as you see me here. Let me show you who you might remember."

With critical eyes, Madeline watched as Martina removed the wig and quickly popped out the contacts. She rearranged the sandy blonde hair, making it less mussy. It was strange to witness the complete change. She had practically morphed from one person to another in front of her eyes. The accent changed too. It became more lilting, more Irish. Martina had always spoken with a slight Scottish burr, now Madeline knew why.

"You might probably also recall that when you were small I left you with a man named Greg a lot. I had to. My duties left me with no choice. My job was why I was away so much. You came to be because of that. I grew to resent this existence, not because it gave me you but because it took me away from your side and eventually your entire life. I am sorry that things with him were not the best. He resented you and who your father was. I had to be very callous with Greg. If you still have contact with him, please Reese, tell him of my deep regret for the way I ruined his life. And that in my own way I really did love him. But on with my life...

I worked for many years being two very different people for a special organization known as the Section. I was a leader for the Section of one of their smaller areas. I was also an agent who went by the name Margeaux Linsdon. Your real father was one of my assignments. We were involved as part of that and I got pregnant with you. You can to be for a reason but more of that later. Your father wanted nothing to do with you and Greg knew you weren't his son. That is why he was bitter about being responsible for you but I think he really did care.

My superiors saw you as a pawn and a pivot point for their power games. I saw you as my child. The only one I would ever have. I only wish that your real father had been that man I loved when I was young but his job with these same people kept us from doing that. Maybe he is still around. His name is Oscar Wolfe.

As for who your real father was.... He was the kind of man you would not want to know or even meet on the street corner. He was, may he still not be, an international terrorist whose goals in life were power and control. Of everything he laid his eyes on, including me. And he thought he did. My greatest accomplishment was proving him wrong. You are part of every good I tried to do for the world. A part of me that wanted to say thank you for the time and friends that I did have. I know you are everything he never even dreamed of being. And with the way he was raised and with whom he was raised with the exception of one person, never could hope to be.

For you to live though, you had to be protected and hidden. Oscar and I believed we had the perfect plan. There was an operative who worked with me for a while. Her name was Nikita. I grew to be extremely fond of her in a very short time. And to find that she was in love with a man to whom I owed a debt greater than I could ever have hoped to repay was a gift from heaven. Just as she was.

That man I refer to is Michael. He lost his young son due to a tragic sets of circumstances. Because of my error in judging a situation, he was away when he should have been with his wife and son. It was the worst mistake I ever made in my life, Reese. I will go to my grave with its weight on my head. He was so far into the operation that it took Section days to get him home. He was unable to see and hold his son one last time before he died. I hope in some small way you redeemed me with him.

Oscar trusted Nikita with the lives that were most precious to him...yours and mine. He planned to have it look as if Nikita killed Margeaux. Then once you were safe with her and Michael, allow me to disappear as I saw fit. I will not tell you how I managed that. It is too dangerous to your safety.

Oscar and I planned for these two special people to keep you and hopefully raise you as their own. Though you could never replace Merle in Michael's heart, I can only hope that you removed some the sadness and grief with that smile of yours. I know you always did that for me. You know they remind me of how I was with Oscar when I was their age. Though I feel they are more committed to each other than we ever were. They fight for each other, we never did.

I hoped that you were able to help Nikita deal with the child I know she left behind somewhere. May she realize that giving up a child to a better life is sometimes the supreme act of love for him or her. Are they the same as I remember them? Michael is intense, very handsome, strong, intelligent and stable. He has eyes the color of yours. And he had the most charming way of speaking and using those eyes. He was as graceful as a lion with the heart of one as well. Nikita is so beautiful, vibrant, also strong, loving and so wonderfully full of life. Her hair is so blonde and those blue eyes of hers. Her feelings show in them and it draws you in..... She had a stubborn streak that would vex a saint though. I bet you can not bat those eyes at her and get exactly what you want. She knows how to stand her ground. The two of them made a very handsome couple. I saw a mission tape of them once at a fancy party. If you know the story of Cinderella and Prince Charming...that is what they reminded me of.

My wildest dream is that as you watch this, you are sharing a home with them. That you are all safe and happy, as a family. What they have together, I could only appreciate from afar. I envy you for the time you must have had with them. I told Oscar my dream and he has never failed me before. But I have no way of knowing if he was able to accomplish it, usually no one goes free of Section... Thus I can only pray and that I do every night. For you, Michael, Nikita and Oscar. I wish that my life would have given me the gift of time to have been there for you. But Fate decided that it had other plans for me. I hope I was able to cheat it for you to have a better one. Everything I have done since the day I knew I was carrying you was to make sure you grew up to be safe and happy. I hope that I succeeded. I did it all out of love.

Michael and Nikita, I hope you are seeing this with him. I know you both can understand the circumstances and can explain our pasts to him so that he can understand why we did what we did. Nikita, the burdens I put on you were inexcusable and horrendous. But in turn I gave you my heart, my little boy. I hope he healed yours. I know there are things that have happened to you that you only hinted at. Things that are so horrible to relive that you wish to keep them buried so that you don't have to acknowledge them.

Let them out, my friend. Share them with Michael. No matter what they may be ...he will understand . He loves you. Inside they eat at you. I heard them in your dreams. I saw it in your eyes when you woke up. Do not let someone have that kind of power over you. I will be honest here since I seem to have been that way through this so far. I know you were young when it happened. I know it revolves around a man and a child. Do not let the violence of it poison your life anymore than it has already. I know you can do it. You gained Oscar's trust as I've seen few do and conquered Michael's defenses. Taking power from the past will be simple compared to them.

Michael, I don't know what you knew of the mission that happened at the time of Merle's death and why you were the only one who could handle it. Oscar only trusted you at that point to care of me and protect my life. I was marked for termination for a mistake. To thank you for a sacrifice you should not have had to face, to try and put that great heart of yours back together which has been so shattered by the events of your life... I hope the demands I made of Oscar to make sure you had a life with Nikita and Reese will bring most of it back together. I can't replace the part Simone callously threw away or the part you lost when she died but perhaps...

I watch over and love you all. Think of me kindly.....by the way...many of these words I have written in a letter as well. It should be here with this tape, your birth certificate and hopefully enough money that none of you ever want for anything. I've done my best...I can only hope for the best."

The tape faded to black and Madeline ran a hand over her face. Contemplating the blank screen now in front of her, she took a deep breath. This was explosive but also a wonderful bit of manipulative material. Nikita didn't know about the connection between Martina and Margeaux.

Or the wrath she would have felt over this tape would have come down on Oscar long before this. Some of the remarks stung, her suspicions over many of Oscar's actions confirmed. Madeline had a hard time facing down the jealousy of that and what she felt over Martina's obvious affection for both Michael and Nikita. It was uncalled for and unnecessary. Martina didn't know enough about either of them. Or did she? How strong and frequent the contact between her and Oscar had been now was in question.

She checked the papers on her desk. There was no letter as Martina claimed. Michael and Nikita had possession of the papers before this and so had CC. Could CC have kept....no that was not right. She would have left it. It would help fuel the fire. No, that left Michael. He had read the letter but he certainly not seen the tape. Knowing him and the fervent urge he had to protect Nikita, he would have destroyed the letter and the tape. Fearing the repercussions of the contents would leave him no other choice. The tape was intact. He had been sloppy. Or so shaken by the depth of the lies he begun to realize had been fed to them that he just reacted to the immediate danger represented by the letter.

Now it was time to set the next part in motion. Quickly Madeline picked up the cell phone and hit a number on the keypad. As she waited for it to connect, she started tapping keys at the terminal. "Brennan? Perth... I'll send the rest of the detail. I have a few changes. Leave as soon as possible." Calmly she placed the phone down and started to gather the paper together. Once they were in a neat pile, she retrieved the tape and placed it on top. Gently she padded it.

"Nikita will see this Martina. I'm sure she will find it quite interesting and informative. You may not realize this but you have contributed greatly to my lesson plan for her. And you've given me a little more insight into her psyche. Thank you very much." She paused for a moment, doubt pricking at her. She had fought at one point for the two of them too. But then Michael and Nikita had both lied to her. Claude had done the same. Oscar had betrayed her....

"What am I doing? I'm acting like a spoiled child. Raymond asked why I perpetuate the damage. Why do you, Madeline? Because you are jealous or because this is for the good of the Section? Either way it is a weakness that must be dealt with. So I've started this now. I can't stop it. Taylor Foller and her mother are weak points for her. Nikita acts before she thinks. If she reacts the way I hope, there are no signs she won't, she will lash out at them. The hate and fear will work themselves out. Thicken the skin till it becomes armor, Nikita. That way it can't be used to hurt you. It's the only way to survive. And it is not an easy lesson to learn. And it will show Oscar and Michael, it's not wise to get on the wrong side of me. I can take it out on something you care about..."

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

Chapter 4

Taking a deep breath, Doyle knocked on the door of Michael's office. "Come in." he heard Michael say. Squaring his shoulders and leveling his chin, he opened the door and walked in. Simon sat on the edge of the desk and Michael was in his chair. Upon Doyle's entrance, Michael shut the lid on his laptop. He reached over to the drawers of the desk and pulled out a small shelf. Punching in a few numbers on a small keypad, he slid it back in.

Simon stood and went over to the couch. "He's all yours again, Michael. " he announced as he settled in. "For what he's worth." The look from Michael though said the comment was not needed or appreciated. Simon looked up at the wall above Michael's head for a moment, biting his tongue. He had a hard time keeping his mouth closed about Doyle. He was an easy target.

"Take a chair, Doyle." Michael asked quietly. He picked up a disk and moved it so the light caught it. Stiffly Doyle took the seat. "These are your evaluation reports done by Simon and myself. Plus the one you did on yourself. Good job. You've been bumped back up but with provisional status. You'll be taking point with Nikita on the next mission."

Swallowing was hard because his throat was so dry. "Oh....why did you decide that?"

"I didn't...Nikita did. Her mission, she assembled the team. Operations gave control back to her. She knows the area better. She asked for you and I think you can handle it as well. I would overrule the selection, without a second thought, if I felt it was warranted. I will be watching carefully though for your performance on this. Don't disappointment me. I do not like other operatives being endangered by someone's lack of discipline."

"OK," Doyle looked over his shoulder to meet Simon's smoldering scrutiny. "I guess I'm in a truce then. With both of you."

Michael stood and buttoned his jacket. His other fingers tapping out the code on the small keypad. "I was not aware of a battle between us Doyle. I was not fighting one. Simon?"

"That depends on whether he screws this up or not. Then I'll decide." The look from Michael told him that wasn't appreciated either. The rebuke would come later, it always did.

"Till then." Michael inclined his head. "Briefing in 2 hours with Nikita, Doyle. Simon, we'll talk later." He left the office. Simon frowned, talk later meant lecture, he loved those. Doyle remained in the chair, digesting the development. He jumped as Simon put both hands on his shoulders.

Leaning down to Doyle's ear, Simon whispered, "If you do screw up and she gets hurt or the mission goes sour making her look bad, I'll be in line right after he hands you your heart. I'll hand you something else near and dear." He patted Doyle's one shoulder as he stood. "Get my drift, baby boy? Be good now." He left quietly as well.

Doyle ran a hand down his face. "Lovely....I just love the camaraderie around here!"

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

Operations smiled as the young man placed the steaming mug before him. Raymond who was seated across from him murmured a thank you. He reclined against the deep leather cushions and smiled. "Very nice accommodations, Oscar. You seem quite relaxed here. I take it you come often?" Raymond asked, curiosity strong in his voice

"It's a place to pause and reflect. No distractions. No interruptions." Operations held up a cheroot and raised his eyebrow in question. "Do you mind?"

Raymond waved a hand as he picked up his mug. "No fine. It doesn't bother me. Reminds me of my childhood actually." He took a sip of the coffee. "Very good choice. Vanilla, nutmeg and I do believe a hint of maple?"

There was a chuckle followed by a nod. "Yes, private blend you might say. I find it relaxing. The vanilla is actually a liquor. The others are flavorings."

"I see. Why did you want to meet here? And why my escort? I was not allowed to leave without them."

"By following Michael and Nikita here, you gave up your freedom as you were accustomed to it being. Freedom has a new connotation for you now. You are no longer a member of the active culture shall we say?"

"A ghost like the rest of you then?" Raymond didn't like this development. He wondered how it had been accomplished. He had not paid Mary yet. He still owed her for the supplies.

"Depends on your definition."

Raymond was quiet as he digested that along with another sip of coffee. "I see...so then why here to talk?"

"I want to discuss Michael."

"You don't feel comfortable doing it there?"

"No, because I find it hard to ask advice. And that is what I intend to do. But I wish it to be as private as I can make it. I need to know how to mend the fences with him. I've made the overture but I do not believe it was well received. Mayhap he even saw it as a pretense on my part as a way to cause more strife for him. As you know things have been quite strained since I ordered Nikita...."

"Have you tried to explain your motives behind the situation? Why you felt the things done were necessary? It might be the branch you need."

"I've tried that. My efforts were rebuffed. Though I only consider it fair. I negated his feelings, I lied and I threatened. Nothing that doesn't deserve an equal reaction from him. I earned it. I did things that were uncalled for. The order to cancel Nikita and the surprise of both Reese and L' Araigne. Though I think he understands that one." He took a large swallow from the mug and melted back into the cushions of the high winged back chair. He watched the smoke from the cheroot meander lazily to the ceiling.

"Reese or L' Araigne?"

"L' Araigne.....that wasn't my call. To keep him and Simone, I had to remain silent. I was assured he would never know. Obviously I was lied to. Reese on the other hand is firmly my fault." He frowned. "I didn't know it would all be so intense. I honestly thought he had made the conscious conclusion to keep emotional attachments at arms length, except for what he was allowing himself with Nikita. That he had buried the past so deep, he would not be affected by the sight of Reese. Perhaps I thought the resemblance was not enough to matter. I've never seen Michael like that. It was very troubling."

"No matter how a human being tries or how well they cover, the emotions are always there. Especially in those who try to say they don't have them at all. They become overwhelmed and as you said the reaction is intense. He feels tremendous guilt and looks to assuage it. But can't because he refuses to let himself say goodbye. He feels embattled and so he fights. Himself and the outside world. The Section is the outside world, you are the figurehead. Madeline shares in much of it too."

"I'm not fighting him."

"But you create the situations that keep him from achieving a balance. He is fighting an emotional war. Trying to find the middle ground between what he has been in the past and what he needs to be in the future. A middle ground between what he had done and what he feels he needs to do as recompense for those deeds."

"He is not response...."

Raymond held up a hand. "The key is that he feels he is. Michael accepts responsibility for every action he initiates. As well as the ones he believes to occur because of something he has done. Hence the continuing guilt factor of the past."

"He couldn't stop any of it. He had little idea at that point what was happening. There is a lot he does not remember either. Michael was a very different man when we took him from Philippe. A lot of what we learned about him came from Simone. Especially after the first 2 months. It was a long road. And what he had done for the job, it had to be done. Those are the rules."

"After Madeline 'cracked' him as he termed it. Which sounds to me like a phrase from Nikita. The reaction to the 'job' issues are a result of what is going on personally I believe. As one would call the 'snowball' effect. On the other hand, Simone is a subject I would like to explore. There are some things that have been said that puzzle me. Like Christine's relationship with her. She is not on the good doctor's list of favorite people." Raymond observed the way Operations continued to follow the path of the smoke with his eyes. "The underpinning dynamics of that relationship could be interesting."

"Christine and Simone did not get along. Especially after Merle died. Then I didn't understand the animosity. I thought it was a rivalry thing. But I believe now it was because Simone somehow knew who Christine was. Simone was difficult to get to know. If she didn't like you that was it. Her mind did not change. She was fiercely protective of Michael. I can tell you she would have hated Nikita. A great many things she wasn't, Nikita is."

"That's what draws him. That is one of the big reasons he was originally attracted to Nikita and fell in love her. Michael sees himself as very much a shadow that exists, not lives. With her, he lives. She and the two children make him fight. He fights for them. Nikita's reaction to him is similar. She fights to live for him and the children. She feels they are counting on her. And it would be unfair of her to not do that. And that is one of the things in this world she abhors, unfairness. From what I've come to know, she has gotten the proverbial 'short end of the stick' more times than most people. And then to end up in Section One....."

"I get your meaning. I need to extend to her as well. Though instead of ignoring the gesture, she'll probably hit me with it. I deserve that too. I've treated her just as badly as I have Michael. Perhaps even more so."

"You and Madeline have become the aggressors in their eyes. You are attacking their family."

"Family? Please Raymond, I think you're reading a little bit much into the relationship."

"No, they are orienting towards each other in that way. It is not a traditional mixture but the emotional attachments are there. Between each other and for the children. He sees them both as his. Regardless of whether or not he was responsible for bringing them into the world. There are times that to be a child of the heart is stronger than any other bond.. Do you think that either of their biological fathers feels for them what he does? I'm not trying to belittle the natural father/child bond either here. But in this case I feel it does not exist."

Operations stared silently at him. Thoughts of how he wasn't there for Stephen as he grew up either. Raymond thoughtful observed the cooled liquid in his mug. "You spoke of mending the fences and I hear your words with their hesitancy. I also hear the doubt in those words of the veracity he feels in them and your own commitment to reconciliation." He looked up to Operations who shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

"The path you need to follow may be as meandering and transparent as that smoke you keep watching, Oscar. It is rocky and at times will be treacherous. At times it could damage, even sever, other bonds you have. Acceptance is the guide rope here. Accept his feelings, accept his dreams. Understand that when he lashes out, he is acting as a protector, not as an aggressor or in retaliation. Michael and Nikita were both shaped by extraordinary circumstances. But those circumstances left important areas in each incomplete."

There was a snicker that made Raymond frown. "Sorry. I've heard this before. I accused them both of being pop psychologists."

"Who do you mean?"

"Martina, Reese's mother. I made her a promise and this seeking of advice is my way of finding a way to keep it. But Madeline also made similar observations when I started all this. She told me to let them have a chance to be together. That it might be good for the Section."

"Madeline fought for them?" Now this was something that Raymond has not even gotten a glimpse of from Madeline or from Michael.

"Yes, she thought I was actually trying to pull them apart at one point. I was really just making sure the commitment was strong enough. I never expected him to lash out the way he did. Michael withdrew at Simone's death. With Nikita's, he did at first and then he started to act out. More at himself than others. Bit by bit the self control we were so accustomed to him having broke down. I also didn't expect so much to happen as it has. He's experienced first hand the way lies and threats stitch together the lives of Section operatives. I know he knew it was there but perhaps thought himself immune. Now he's discovered he's not."

"If he thought that, it was because you let him believe it or you made him secure in the knowledge that he was immune. As for Martina...you made a promise of a life for Reese, didn't you?" Operations nodded at the question. Something told him that Raymond knew a lot more about the whole situation than any of them involved individually knew. "Michael told me of a letter. And her wishes and explanations that were in it. He wants to keep as many of those details from Nikita as possible. He fears the outcome."

"The letter, yes." Operations kept his reaction hidden. She had done it, just as she threatened she would. And Michael had found it. He cursed his luck on that one. He had to wonder how much she revealed in that letter.

"Advice..." Raymond said with a wistful tone to the words. "This is what I say. Encourage them and their relationship....from what I have seen if this is all to continue you need them. Stay away from the situation between Christine and he. If you become embroiled in it, he will keep the distance between you permanently. My final words are a warning. This is all coming to a head. I feel that there will several major explosions. I strongly suggest Michael and Nikita be left alone for awhile. Or the outcome you will do more than fear...."

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

Nikita leaned back in the chair, her feet on the table as Doyle read over the material on the pad. She felt a bit proud of herself. The ideas for the mission profile had flowed smoothly as she and Michael had gone over the info gathered from Kassov. Miller had sat in with them as they developed it. Her suggestions filled any hole that Nikita wasn't sure how to deal with. Michael had been mainly quiet as he listened to her ideas. Coaxing an segment that needed an additional part and trimming where he thought it was too excessive.

She liked working with him like that. There was an ease between them. She concentrated on the large parts, then he worked on the details. Sometimes they would disagree on a point but it no longer erupted into a full scale argument. She had learned to patiently listen to him and he in turn was getting better at listening to her side, albeit was emotional at times. He won more than she did but Michael had a lot more experience. So that was ok with her, it gave her a chance to learn. If she choose to argue a point beyond that, he would time and again turn it around on her until as Darcie would put it 'the damn light bulb came on'.

Doyle looked up as if he had a question, shook his head and went back to reading. Nikita was beginning to understand that Doyle was a bit of a hybrid. He was Section but at the same time, he was still the man from the outside. He had a good head for figuring things out but was not great at tempering his emotions. Remind you of anybody, Nikita? her inner voice mocked her. A crooked smile crossed her mouth at that. She and Doyle alike...we go together like milk and vinegar...

The whole profile was based on a deal Operations had made with Kassov. He would give up the four main players and Operations would take out Rudelle. Though it really wasn't a deal, she was already targeted by take down with another part of the umbrella. The little money grubber had taken out an Interpol agent last week. They received intel earlier today that showed her commandeering the operation of a large supplier in Hong Kong. The threat of his family's safety insuring his concurrence with her objectives. Operations figured take her out, kill off the Perth cell, get the 4 top guys and pull in the suppliers as well. A nice neat package he had toted about rather triumphantly. They would accomplish in one fell swoop what Interpol and their cohorts had been trying to do for months. She knew Operations would rub that in their faces for a long while afterwards.

Once they had the four, higher ups at the Agency felt the Balkan situation should stabilize. Nikita doubted that though and Operations had loudly expressed his own doubts. It may lead you to think it had come to an even keel but overnight it usually went haywire again. Doyle's head came up again and he peered at Nikita. "Why do you want me?"

"You're smart and quick on your feet. I've seen the change you've been working on. I'd like to think that it's not a ruse so you can get in good before you start again. I think we can find a way to work together without getting each other killed."

Doyle smirked at her. "You are the confident one."

Nikita returned the smirk. "Name of the game around here."

"And if this little role doesn't have the desired effect? What happens then? Are we cooked gooses?"

Shaking her head, Nikita leaned forward to look at him. "No, we're just stuck cleaning out the

coop. You know they are going to be watching you on this. If we get the order to clean because she doesn't go for it, you do it. Don't run. You do, you'll be in a lot of trouble. I warn you now I expect trouble. She's not all with it."

"Why do you say that? Nothing here says that."

She tapped her head. "Woman's intuition."

"Nikita?" They both looked over towards the doorway. A tall almost emaciated dark skinned man stood there. He seemed nervous as his eyes darted from one thing to another.

Nikita flashed a quick smile at him. "Hey Saphil, what's going on?"

"Doc Christine wants to speak to you in her office. She sounds pretty ticked. Calrienne said she's been terrible to be around for the past couple of days. I don't envy you being in the same room with her." Saphil shook his head and Nikita smothered a laugh.

"OK thanks for the warning. I'll be careful." She started to get up. "Doyle, look it over some more. If you develop any questions, have somebody in ops look for me."

Saphil started to swing around but stopped, a hand in the air. "Oh and Michael left to retrieve Garton about an hour ago. Operations said you were running tactical on it."

"Yeah, grab me about 30 minutes before arrival. OK? And let the twins know we might need them later tonight." Saphil nodded and turned away.

"Who's Garton?" Doyle asked.

"Rudelle's boy toy....our lock picker. Easier to use him as a calling card than enter ice cold. She lets him run a little too much. To a woman, guy who is as nice looking as he is and she lets him troll like he does, something is not quite kosher. Got me? That's woman's intuition. Do you want to sit in on tactical with me?"

"Yeah sure..." Doyle looked back down to the pad, rereading it. Nikita sailed out of the room. Looking back up, he watched her walk away. "Trouble isn't the half of what I'll be in. Solitary confinement holds such fond memories for me suddenly."

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

Operations looked up at the voice. "You got a minute?" Walter stood just inside the door, a small palm CPU in his hand. He pointed to it.

"Working nicer than the PDAs?"

"Has more options...some complicated. Birkoff is working on getting them modified. I got those findings you asked me for." He came closer and Operations relaxed back into his chair, motioning to the chair in front of the desk.

"What did you find?"

"She would not have been able to stop that car at 25 miles or more an hour. The pressure of applying the brakes snapped them. Front and back....completely failed. We're lucky Nikita damn well wasn't killed." Walter slid the device across desk. "Somebody played with them."

"So it wasn't her fault.?"

"She might have been going a little fast, maybe a lot. Doesn't matter. Just by hitting the brakes hard, which would have been the reaction anybody would have had in the situation, they snapped like uncooked spaghetti."

"The moose wasn't a .."

Walter shook his head. "Not a fabrication in the least. It was huge. One of the largest they've seen in a while. He almost broke the scale at the detachment. I would have been scared coming up on him in the daylight, let alone at night. A little over 2 thou was the weight. The rack on him was astonishing. I asked for it but someone else already had dibbs."

Operations raised an eyebrow at Walter. "I'm not even going to ask how tall it was then. Any ideas who was responsible?"

A smirk and nod were Walter's answers. "Oh yeah....I checked into it myself. Nice bar as a matter of fact...anyway....I was lucky. 3 morons were at the bar with another guy who looked like he just wanted to slink over the top and down behind it. He had cheated the other three out of a mess of money. Spent it on a 550 in navy blue, custom color. If you watch the video feed when she was there, he pulls in along side her just before she leaves the bar. They hit the car as payback. They got the wrong one."

"Pretty dangerous way to get back at somebody."

"As was explained to each of them."

Narrowing his eyes at Walter, he studied him for a moment. "You retaliated?"

"In a way. They were drunk. They all had their cars. Fixed them with the provincial authorities. DWI and a little possession."

"Walter...." Operations began, a warning in his voice.

Walter held up a finger. "Not since that time in '68, Oscar! There was a resource there. I used it. They got a little belligerent with the authorities when they showed up. They are still cooling their heels." Operations rolled his eyes back as he started to take off his glasses. Walter still had the touch. The man could construct a frame.... "I think we need to check out the one named Fred. Man's got good hands. Did a number on the car. I'd like to see what else he could do...."

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

Christine's acknowledgment to the door response was sharp and short. Nikita only stuck her head in the door. "Is it safe? I hear it's a minefield in here lately." The answer she got was a glare and the slamming of a PDA on the desk. "I'll come back later then..."

"Damn it! Get in here!" Christine sprang out of the chair. With a raised eyebrow, Nikita came the rest of the way in. She watched as Christine keyed a code into the keypad on the door.

"When did you get the new toy?" Flopping down on the couch, Nikita tucked her legs under her and grabbed a throw pillow. She played absentmindedly with the tassel on it as she watched Christine.

"About a week ago, this place has too many damn ears." She laid her forehead against her arm which was braced on the wall next to the keypad. "I got cornered two nights ago." She looked over at Nikita.

"Cornered? By who?" Nikita questioned warily.

"Raymond"

"About what?"

Christine threw herself down on the couch with a huge sigh. "Michael. And Paige."

"I haven't said anything to Michael or Raymond. I made a pro..."

Lightly, she hit Nikita with the other throw pillow. "I know. He says I have to tell him and soon. Says I'm making Michael suffer. Am I? You would know probably better than anyone."

"He hurts not knowing, Chris. What more can I say? Can I give my objective opinion here?"

With a snicker, Christine nodded. "Objective, huh? Sure go ahead."

"I think you should tell him."

"And the count stands folks at 3 to tell and 1 to keep my mouth shut. 3 to 1...I don't like those odds." She sighed then looked at Nikita earnestly. "Is he really going to buy a headstone for me?"

Nikita blinked several times as a confused look spread over her face. "What do you mean a headstone? Where did that come from?"

"Raymond."

"Figures...no, Chris, not that he told me. I don't think he would. He thinks Paige is alive somewhere. He couldn't do something like that unless he had definite proof that she wasn't." Nikita thought about the scene at the cemetery. He hadn't mentioned Paige in that sense, right? Well, not exactly but... "No, he thinks she is still hidden somewhere. He doesn't say that but he thinks it."

"Paige died when she was 7 years old, that's when Christine was born. That's when I became me. There's no going back, Nikita. Paige does not exist anymore."

"For Michael she does."

"She shouldn't..." Heaving another huge sigh, Christine got off the couch and walked around her office, staring into space. "Was he able to say good-bye to them?"

"Made a promise. Remember? I couldn't find him. I can't talk about it."

"Even to me?" She looked over as Nikita shook her head. "OK, only fair. You're doing the same for me. Did you get a chance to talk to him about that other stuff.?"

"Yeah, same night you had your talk with Raymond. We talked about Taylor, too."

"Did you tell him everything? What did he say?"

"Most of it. What I could. He said he's ok with it. Wants to get his hands on Taylor though. Says he'll kill him if he ever sees him." She shifted on the couch, obviously unsettled by thinking of his reaction to what she had told him. Christine leaned up against her desk, arms folded across her chest.

"Can you blame him? What that guy did......"

"Is in the past."

"Not for you. You're still reliving it every time a man other than the ones you're close to here touch you in a way that's suggestive or you didn't initiate . And that group is pretty small......

Michael, Simon, Walter and Birkoff. You tried to re-arrange Doyle's face for him."

"He presumed. That was wrong. And as for the other part, Chris, that's not true."

Christine was quite for a moment and then shrugged. "OK, maybe not in the past few years, you covered it up pretty good. You managed a way around it. But it is really strong now, you can't control the repulsion like you did. I remember giving you a synthes'd mickey to use on Greg."

"I don't want to think about that. And I don't need to worry about Michael doing something stupid about this either. I can handle it."

"He thinks he's the one to do it. Come on, he feels he has to protect you. Even more now, think about it."

"No, it is the past. Ignore it and it will go away. Always has before."

"I don't think there's any 'before' anymore, Kita." Christine laugh softly and cynically. "Guess that's just something our mothers taught us to do....hide from our problems. That way we don't have to solve them. Boy weren't they right..."

"Yeah the only thing she ever did right. Show little Nikita how to run and hide from the world."

"You know, Sylvia thought that if you didn't mention it, then it didn't exist. After the bandages came off, my real parents and Michael were never referred to again. I thought about them every night before I went to sleep. They had quite a life in my mind. Papa became the head of Scotland Yard, Mama became the French Ambassador and Michael was a world famous artist."

Nikita smiled sadly and looked up at her. "And what were you?"

"Little Christine Bilwaka who could only watch from afar because she wasn't in their family....... We can't just wrap it up and pack it in a box. Neither of us."

Nikita watched as Christine rubbed both hands over her eyes. "Uh-huh." She got up and went over to sit next to her. "You know what you've got to do? I'd fix it if I could, Chris...but this has to come from you. I know he needs to hear something. You have to decide what that is."

Nodding Christine whispered, "Question is what. As for you, realize who the monster is, that it happened and move on. Draw strength from it. Don't let it drain you. " Nikita made a loud reproaching sigh as she looked to the floor. Christine knew what that meant. Easier said than done. She decided to change the subject slightly. "Tell me what he said about your dream. Especially me and Simon...."

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

Madeline tapped on the doorframe to get Operations' attention. He looked up with a smile. "Do you have a moment?" she asked.

"For you always. What's wrong?" She sat down on the edge of his desk and handed him a PDA.

"I thought you had gotten one of the new CPUs?"

"I did but Walter is doing some modifications on it. So I grabbed an old reliable here. I have a few worries regarding Darcie."

He put the unit on the desk and studied her for a moment. "I told you that combination was a bad idea."

"That is not where I have a problem, Nikita has done an extremely good job with Darcie. She is developing very well. However..." She hit a few buttons on the PDA. "...these are the results on her first mandatories from yesterday. Some of those scores I haven't seen on an operative in several years. Here in tech and logistics, she blew them away, redid the programming to beat the perimeters of the test. She completed the 'mission' with only one loss, herself. Many of her other areas are equal to anywhere from a recruit to a five year ops. There are two very weak areas though."

Picking up the PDA, he reviewed the screen. As he read down the numbers, Madeline watched his face. "She likes the computers, doesn't she? I'm impressed with her marks in weapons and strategy. Language is a little low but that's not uncommon considering the situation she came from. I know others who had the same problem." He raised an eyebrow at Madeline. "I believe it was Indonesian and Greek that bothered you the most."

"Ada diam."

"Which means basically to shut up, I think." He gave her a quick smile and looked back to the screen. "Mark management scenarios are poor. The scores for combat are in the toilet. What's the problem? Isn't she fit to do the job?"

Madeline shrugged, "No, I think the problems can be overcome. But I feel in the process we might damage her. Not that she is a delicate creature but she lives in her head. To put it plainly, she's brains not brawn."

"Then what good is she to us? I need operatives who can handle themselves in the field. I don't want someone that has to be handled with kid gloves. I did that with Caroline. Now look where we are. Birkoff is overwhelmed at this point. We're thin on every front. We need backup on something, Michael scrambles to cover. We're still cannibalizing teams. I can't give a full load to Nikita yet. We have operatives I know that desperately need down time to prevent burn out. But..."

"You are counting Birkoff in that burn out group, aren't you?" Operations nodded, his expression weary and worried at the same time. "I have an answer for that one at least."

Making a derisive sound, he set the PDA loudly down on the desk. "And that would be?"

"Give Darcie to Birkoff. Let him train her the way he was training Caroline. She went through the logistic tests like a fire. The strategics were almost as easy for her. Her scores outdistanced Caroline's by a mile. She matched Birkoff in all the technical when he first came here and she is much better on strategics. She is calculating. I feel she is the answer to part of our problem. She can become Birkoff's full counterpart. With two of them of the same ability, we free Michael or another operative to stay in the field instead of having to run tactical. We move her to ops we gain another person here who can think on their feet. That improves our chances out in the field."

"I don't want that much youth running Section One!"

"Open your eyes, Oscar. The youth are what we once were. Starting as young as both Birkoff and Darcie are...do you realize how old Birkoff is?"

"Of course!"

"Well Darcie is only 17, look at the years they have to develop. She can do this. I know she can. If you want, ask Walter. She's showing him things. I want us to take this chance."

Operations eyed her. She seemed excited and that was something she had not been in a while. The idea glowed in her eyes. "Trial basis. Use on Nikita's profile. But I want Michael to be there. Birkoff too! And we watch it carefully. She shows the first sign of nerves. Pull her! Am I clear?"

"As always," Madeline said to him, a satisfied smile on her face. Things were working so well for her lately that she couldn't help smiling.

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

Saphil turned to look over his shoulder at Nikita who stood just behind him. "Points A-E in place. Michael just entering." Nikita nodded as she watched the feed from Michael on the monitor directly over Saphil's head. Doyle sat just to his right, watching the screen that showed all six shots at the same time.

"Views from C to E." Nikita asked. "Schematic below please." The monitor to her left split into 3 screens and she looked at the activity on each. D showed her Michael slowly making his way around the perimeter of the dance floor towards the bar. She silently professed to herself that he looked great in the outfit. He fit with the atmosphere of the club. Black leather pants, black and red striped snug t-shirt, a black leather vest and black boots. The black glasses fit the look too as well as the scruffy shave and unkempt hair.

The music from the club pumped loudly and easy through the audio feed. Doyle fiddled with his, trying to lower it. "Don't they play anything soft?"

Nikita listen to the song for a moment as she watched Michael survey the club. It fit him somehow and brought up images from the other night. She could still feel his intensity and hear some of the things he said

I feel you
Your sun it shines
I feel you
Within my mind
You take me there
You take me where....

But here wasn't the place for that, Nikita forced the images and feelings aside. All focus on the mission, girl! she told herself. She looked over at Doyle. "You should have seen it as a biker club. The heavy metal would have blown your eardrums out.....Michael.... remember to make the order alcoholic...you'll call attention if you don't. The Bane don't do it nice and easy and they don't like those who order wimpy either. The bartender will let the whole place know it."

"Understood" He made it to the bar and leaned against it. Nikita turned her attention to the other views as he ordered. As he did, her head snapped back to his feed. "Black Cat." Doyle gave a low whistle.

"Order a couple of Guinnies to go with it," Doyle murmured as he continued to play with the audio feed. "Really work on the hangover thing for later."

"Tough guy," she muttered as the bartender slapped down the bottle. Michael turned around and started checking the crowd. Three women in a row slunk up to him, trying to get him to the dance floor. He brusquely refused them all. "Be a little more polite, you are going to get smacked."

"Attracting them like a magnet. Did you watch his entrance? I think somebody requested the song for effect. Female heads and a couple of males too were in a spin." Doyle remarked quietly.

"Fresh meat always attracts flies." Nikita commented. "and the Bane is full of them and maggots too." She listened carefully as Michael had each point report into him.

"You sound like you know the place well." Doyle moved the chair back so he could put his feet up. Nikita was beginning to pace.

"Too well. Used to hang out there. The Bane never changes except for the prices and the music played. Same crappy decor and color it been for years.....Michael start to circulate. He should be around there someplace, Erik saw him come in....Wait! To the left."

"I've got him." Michael replied as Garton was spotted by two other operatives as well. He slipped his hand into his pocket and palmed something. "Converging." He walked up to a tall man dressed in jeans and a purple t-shirt who stood a little to the right of the end of the bar. He had wavy shoulder length auburn hair and dark brown eyes with a small mustache. He was trim and well built as evidenced by the snug way the jeans and shirt fit him. Casually, Michael put his arm around the man's shoulders. "Hello..."

"Looks like a damn gigolo." Doyle whispered.

"Jealous, man?" Saphil remarked. Doyle sneered at the back of his head. Nikita snapped her fingers. Now she knew why Michael liked it quiet once the sequence started ,chit chat was distracting.

Garton tried to push the arm away. "Hey, find some..." He stiffen as he felt the warm sharp edge of a small gun barrel against the side of his neck.

"Small but effective..." Michael said with a smile as he looked up at the couple who stopped in front of them, squabbling. They were right in his way.

"To egress with target." Nikita's voice rustled in his ear. He nodded his head slightly indicating he heard her. She looked down at the clock running in the right hand corner of the schematic. They were closing in on the viability window. Someone was going to get suspicious of the van. "Now please."

"Uh-huh" Michael replied softly. His smile fell as he steered Garton slightly to the side. There was resistance. "Walk with me, please. It will be better that way," he urged with forewarning. Garton took a step and froze as a man stepped in front of them. Michael turned the smile back on as he looked at the man who faced them. He seemed vaguely familiar.

Doyle stood up and stepped next to Nikita. "Geesh, a man gets no peace..." He looked sideways and saw the color drain from Nikita's face. "Hey you ok?"

"Fine." Nikita said in a choked voice. She force herself not to shake. She had to have been seeing things. There was a commotion to the right and Michael gave it a quick glance. "Now Michael," she said tightly. He brought his eyes back to the man in front of him. She sounded suddenly stressed. Time was getting short, but it was not yet a problem. What was going on?

Nikita's eyes were glued to his feed, everything else around her blanked out. Doyle watched her eyes darken and widen. He swore he saw fear in them as well as heard it in the slight tremble of her now husky voice. "A & B clear path for egress. Get them out of there." There was an acknowledgment as Michael's voice came in clearly.

"If you'll excuse us, he's not feeling all that great. He might mess your shoes if you keep standing there."

"Sure guys, no problem. That Black Cat has a real kick if you aren't careful." He pointed at the bottle in Michael's other hand.

"I think he found it out. Come on, let's walk, Ward. It's not hard just move your feet." He pressed his clenched hand harder into Garton's neck. "You're feeling awfully clammy. Let's go before I drop you." Garton started forward unsteadily and Michael moved with him.

There was a faint chuckle from Saphil, "I love the way that man threatens. So cool and subtle. Then like a sledgehammer....wham!" Doyle jumped as Saphil hit the table next to his keyboard. There was no reaction from Nikita at all, her eyes remained on the monitor. But he noticed her hand was now pressed against her ear-piece, as if trying to hear something. He remarked on it but she acted as if he wasn't even there.

Michael moved Garton through the crowd and into a hallway. They turned left and then Michael stopped. The exit door wasn't where it was suppose to be. It was a blank wall of all new unpainted wood. "Tactical need new egress. First non existent." He pulled Garton with him as he went back up the hall. "Tactical!" He snapped in a hushed tone. There was no response from her. With a frown, he ordered the 5 points to start egress, they had to leave now.

Nikita swallowed as she heard Michael's request but she couldn't get herself to react. Her heart beat with the loudness of a cannon in her ears and it was hard to breathe. She had tried to discount her own eyes but once she heard the voice there was no mistake. There was no way she was going to forget that voice. She heard it in her head almost every day. Or that face that lately showed up whenever she tried to sleep. Taylor had been right there in front of Michael. They had talked. He could have done anything he wanted. Christine's words rang in her ears, * "Draw strength..." but from where?* her head screamed.

Garton thought Michael's concentration was light enough for him to make a break. He lunged and Michael rammed him into the wall. A larger gun appeared in his face. Real fear gripped Garton now and the sweat began to bead on his forehead. "Mate, I don't know what's your gig here but it ain't with me. I don't know you...."

Calmly Michael cocked the gun. "Quiet." He looked up the hallway and then back the way they had come. "Tactical...now!" he whispered.

Doyle heard Michael so he was sure Nikita did. She hesitated a moment longer and then bit her lower lip. She had totally lost concentration and seemed completely bewildered. Saphil looked up at Doyle with concern. Doyle nodded at him. "Nikita?" She frowned as she looked from screen to screen. Where the hell did he go? What was he up to? Was he going after Michael? Did he already find Katie? Did that mean that she was next?

Tapping Saphil on his shoulder, Doyle hit his ear-piece with a finger. Immediately understanding the meaning, Saphil switched verbal command to Doyle. Examining the schematic as compared with Michael's location, he started talking. "Move down the rest of the hallway, Michael. Third door on left. Take it. Go through the door on the right hand wall. It's a big storage closet. Large double pane window. I'll have transport and your points there for you."

"Acknowledged." Michael grabbed Garton by the back of his neck, the gun now pressed to his cheek. "Move. And do it quickly." The doors were exactly as Doyle described. He pushed Garton up against the wall again and tried the sash with one hand. Garton got brave and made another attempt to flee. With an exasperated sigh, Michael cuffed him smartly in the chin. His eyes rolling back in his head, Garton hit the floor. The window slid open. He saw the van and the rest of the team next to it. "Let's get moving." He ordered as they bundled Garton and themselves in. Taking a last look around for problems, he got in himself. All he could do was wonder what the hell had happened.

As the van started away, Doyle spun on Nikita. "What the hell was that? Baptism by..." Stunned he saw blank dull eyes glued again to the center screen, and set in a colorless face. Even her lips looked drained of color. Her body was so rigid that he was afraid if he touched she would shatter into thousands of pieces. Nikita's breath rattled in her throat.

"Nikita...you with me?" he asked softly. He moved his hand towards her face when she erupted into motion, tearing the ear-piece out and slamming it down on the console. With a rough shove, she went by him and out of ops. He looked to Saphil who had the same confused expression on his face. He looked back to the blank center monitor. "What freaked her out?"

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

The hallway was deserted and gave the refuge but open space that she needed. Breathing rapidly and shallowly, Nikita threw her back up against the wall, her fists pressed to both temples. She felt like her head was going to split in two. The endless mantra of 'no' in her head was deafening compared with how it had been in ops.

"I did not see that. He was not there. He didn't talk to Michael." She spun off the wall and stalked back and forth a short ways. "There is no reason for him to be there. Why would he be there? Maybe he moved home you stupid bit....Wait a minute here get control, Nikita. You're losing it. You've got to think. Count to ten and take deep breaths."

Nikita did as she told herself but the calm didn't return. Her thoughts were just pieces as she went from one to another. Some repeating themselves, others not even being finished. Her pacing matched her thoughts. It was abrupt and quick. He had been so close to Michael. Closer than he had been at the gallery. "That wasn't real, you idiot! But he was. God damn it! Could he have been out trolling?" Somebody else's daughter...

"Katie...Reese..." She moved rapidly down the corridor. Madeline had promised leniency in regards to Katie. Nikita had not really sat and thought about that statement. Did she mean not insert the deception in her file but level another punishment at her? Could she be so hard as to turn a child as innocent as Katie over to a monster like that? There would be no one to stop him.

Madeline looked up as her door opened. She smiled as Nikita entered but it quickly faded as she looked at Nikita's face. "Is somethi...."

Nikita hit the top of the desk . Both her hands landing with a loud thud. "Tell me where they are now! No excuses! No god damn lies! Just the truth! You know what that is, don't you?"

With a slight tilt to her head, she looked up into Nikita's outraged face. "What's prompting this little display of temper? Bad day at the office?" She kept her voice calm but Madeline really wanted to clap her hands. Nikita had reacted exactly as she had hoped when Brennan had made his presence known. Before Nikita could answer the question, Madeline tapped her screen with a finger, keeping her eyes on the flashing blue ones in front of her. "You froze out there. Why? I thought you were ready for this. Operatives are suppose to be able to function under any circumstances. Does the idea of home bother you that much? This is something to make me worry, Nikita."

"Don't toy with me." Nikita warned.

Madeline stood, assuming the same position as Nikita. "Don't warn me. You are on a very thin sheet of ice with me as it is. Don't let it crack under your feet. Back off and sit down. Push and you will intensely dislike the results. You have a function here, fulfill it!"

Gritting her teeth and taking a shaky breath, Nikita dropped into the chair behind her legs. She continued to glare at Madeline. "I'm glad to see you still have some sense. Thank you." she said crisply to Nikita.

"You didn't answer my question. Where are they?"

"Then we are even. You didn't answer mine either."

Nikita rubbed her fingertips up and down her forehead. "I don't have the hunger to spar with you today. Please just tell me." She looked up at Madeline. There was a plea in her eyes for an answer and understanding of her feelings and unspoken fears.

Carefully and without lowering her eyes, Madeline shook her head. "I can't do that. It would jeopardize you, Michael and both of them."

"I need to know they are all right. I need to see them. "

"At what price, Nikita? Your life or one of theirs? The safety of the Section?"

Hitting the desk with her fist and speaking in a tight voice, "The Section means squat next to those two kids! Nothing means more to me than they do!" Nikita bent back and chewed on her finger a bit as she looked now at the desk top, some of the anger oozing away which lessened the panic.

"Obviously that's true, certainly more than Michael does. He was relying on you. You let him down. Why? Because you were what? Daydreaming?"

Nikita shook her head. How could she tell Madeline who she saw? It would not matter to her nor would she understand. The past didn't bother her. She swept it away like dirt on the floor. How could she understand the fear Taylor generated in her? Had she ever been through the same situation? Nikita doubted that.

She also doubted that Madeline could understand the pain of having someone else take raise your child for you. How it stung to only have memories to hug instead of the real thing. To wake up in the middle of the night and hear a voice only to realize it was a snippet of a remembrance of that which was so far away? No there was no sense in explaining. "I froze. I can't explain to you what caused it. Please just tell me that the kids are ok."

"You are in a unique position here Nikita...allowed privileges and given leeway that few other operatives at your level or any other level have even hoped to aspire to. You have excellent potential that increases the longer you are here. You've come along nicely though once in a while your emotional side takes precedent in matters where it really doesn't belong. You need to learn to temper those tendencies. They can be very detrimental to you. You need to thicken your skin a little. That way the hurts will bounce off instead of causing wounds. Michael does a very good job of it. He understands the need for that objectivity. You need to be like that as well. He understands the need for their protection. I'm sure he's explained it to you."

"Yes he told me about your little talk. How you flatly refused to tell him anything about them. What was it you told him? He said you were quite blunt. Not to worry about things he had no control over and deal with the matter at hand....that Section was the one true thing he should concern himself with. To do his job and then possible there might be some benefits that result from that. Then you told him he was getting an insertion in his file regarding his attitude and actions."

Nikita took a deep breath. "Maybe this is going to give you ammo from something later but to hell with it. You might just be better for the knowing... Katie and Reese mean a lot to him. He cares for them as if they were his own children. I love my daughter, Madeline and I've come to feel the same for that little boy. They are the world to me. They are my one TRUE concern. This place can rot to hell for all I care. I want to know about MY children."

Madeline turned from her and concentrated on her terminal. "If there was anything affecting their well being, I would be sure to tell you. I do have some things to finish here. You have an interrogation to prepare for. I suggest you get started."

For several long moments, Nikita sat and stared at her profile. Then she softly said, "You don't want to acknowledge it at all. You can't understand how it feels, can you?"

"What would that be?"

"How it feels to have your child taken away. To not talk to them every day, to hear what they think, to see them sleep and watch their faces while they dream, to watch them change as they grow older. To miss the first tooth, word, step, haircut...."

The words jabbed at Madeline. She had put those things away a long time ago. Clearing her throat, she turned back to Nikita and carefully laced her fingers together before she started to speak. "I do understand it. But for the people of Section One, children are a nightmare of possible liabilities. Any way that we can minimize or eliminate that risk, we strive to take it."

"Eliminate the life of a child? Would you be so callous? Could you...." Nikita was rising to her feet, Madeline could see the panic in her eyes. Panic was not what she wanted out of the girl over this part of it at least.

"Nikita, no, I couldn't do that. By minimize I mean erase all signs of the relationship. By eliminate I mean relationships of operatives that could lead to the occurrence of a child. Precautions are necessary. That is one of the reasons for forbidding sexual relations among operatives. In fact, any relationship of that nature in or out of Section is a bad idea. As you have discovered, I think. Emotional entanglements, such as one feels for a person or family member, can be just as burdensome. They can be just as big a liability. You know that as well. Better than most, I believe"

Straightening up, Nikita bit her lower lip and then squared her shoulders. Once again, Madeline was emphasizing the delicate nature of the relationship that Michael and she maintained. And the uncertain balance that the lives of Katie and Reese were held in. "Thanks for the fine, kind words of understanding and support. I appreciate them. I'll use them at night to comfort me when the nightmares wake me and I'm crying in the dark."

Madeline had started to turn back to the computer screen when she stopped and gave her a small smile. "You still cry? You still have the tears?"

"Don't you?"

"No. " And then she went back to studying her screen. With a sad shake of her head, Nikita left the room. For an instant, as the door closed, Madeline's hands halted above the keyboard. "Liar" she whispered to the reflection in the screen.

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

It's just time to pay the price....For not listening to advice
And deciding in your youth.......On the policy of truth.
Things could be so different now....It used to be so civilized
You will always wonder how....It could have been if you'd only lied - DM

End of part two...

written by Tammy

Continue on to The Policy of Truth, part three

Return to La Femme Nikita Fan Fiction

©1999 La Femme Fiction

This page hosted by Geocities