The Policy of Truth IV

written by Tammy

{Song snippets belong to: In Chapters 6 and 8; 'Hit Me' by Sister Soleil from the album 'Solarium'.}

Chapter 7

The hotel room was a welcome sanctuary. Swiftly closing the door behind her, Nikita locked it with the night chain and backed away until her knees hit the edge of the bed. Abruptly she sat down and stared wide eyed at the door. Slowly she lowered her head and relaxed her posture as she forced calmness down her throat. Her carefully concealed hope had been shattered. Taylor had been real and not a figment of her imagination. That meant she hadn't been seeing things or going insane. She couldn't help the disappointment that arose inside. Insanity would have been easier to cope with.

Nikita took a deep breath. The air had cleared her head on the way to the hotel. But now that she was sitting down, the foggy feeling had hit heavily again. Putting her hands palm first down on the mattress she realized she was shaking. Tossing her head back, she laughed at the ceiling. "What the hell are you scare of? He can't hurt you! You can almost beat Michael if you really try hard, is Taylor any where near his strength and speed? Come on girl! You're no longer 17! You're stronger, older and a lot smarter."

She snickered herself. "Yeah, smarter...sure. That's why I'm sitting here in a hotel room with a major buzz on and that creep 5 blocks away. And I went looking for him! What a idiot!" She dropped back down unto the bed, still staring at the ceiling. She was dizzy from the alcohol and then there was that annoying gnawing feeling that said she hadn't eaten today. "I need a friendly voice." Rolling unto her stomach, she crawled up the bed and grabbed the phone. Dialing, she laid her head down on the pillow and waited. The world was rolling like a wild roller coaster ride.

She brought her head up. There was a voice on the other end, Michael and it sounded good. But the words he spoke were not 'hello, where are you, I'll be right there' but "Leave a message please. I will return a call to you as soon as possible." Slowly she lowered her head back down, a vicious headache was striking and making her dizzier than the buzz had. She tried to calculate what time it would be there. Perth was 12 hours ahead? She couldn't think and the wooziness wasn't getting any better. Chris had said something about alcohol and her head. But she had wine with dinner a nights ago. Why was this so bad?

"Michael..." she whispered. The machine clicked and the dial tone sounded in her ear. An image of Taylor popped into her head and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She drew a shaky breath.

"I saw him," she whispered into the phone. "He's here. And I'm by myself. But I can't be scared. Not anymore. I've got to make it end." She dropped the phone on the floor, the dial tone echoing in the still room. "Sleep. There it will go away. Just a few hours.... make the monsters go away."

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"Come here, Nikita...we got something to show you...you're going to like it"

They hadn't been nice to her since she started at this school. Why would they be now? But Todd sounded so much like he meant it. The temptation to see, be a part of the group and maybe even liked was too much. They weren't suppose to be so close to the construction equipment here at the rectory but maybe they had found something neat. Nikita rounded the corner and could see the group. She approached with a smile.

"What did you guys find?" She stepped into the group and they closed around her. Suddenly she felt afraid as the biggest boy in the class, Dayton, came up in her face.

"We just wanted to tell you that we don't like you. We don't want you in our class. You're ugly and you're stupid." Nikita looked quickly around the group and knew she was in trouble. She tried to back up but Priscilla was right behind her.

"My ma said she saw your ma on the corner downtown yesterday. Was she working, Nikita?"

Nikita reached over her shoulder to push Priscilla's face away from the side of her head. Little Grace stood to her side and Nikita made a break for it. She pushed Grace to the ground and ran. It wasn't hard to hear Grace crying and telling them to get her. Nikita ran as fast as she could. She rounded the corner, only to have forgotten about the wooden wall they had put up. She spun and saw the other kids gaining on her. Some of them had sticks. She felt like crying and her knees felt wobbly. There was a door just a little ways away with a wooden step and railing. Maybe it was open and she could get it and away from them.

But it wasn't and they were all around her again. They hit her and yelled at her. Calling her names and saying really bad things about Momma. One of them hit her in the head and she fell to the ground. Soon they started to kick her. Somebody spit on her and called her a stupid witch and said that Momma was a whore. Then they scattered, Father Reynolds had come out and was yelling. Nikita closed her eyes tight as the tears dripped out. If she wasn't looking at anybody, then nobody was looking at her.

Then she felt Grandma Tessie's arms and everything was ok. There were always hugs and kisses from her no matter what. Even when she was too sick to raise her head from the pillow, she would let Nikita crawl in and tell her story after story. Grandma Tessie would stroke her hair and after she was too tired to tell anymore stories, she would ask Nikita to tell her a story. No matter how mean Momma was that day or how long she would be away, Grandma Tessie always made it better.

The hand caressed her hair. The arms were snug around her. The rocking felt so good. Then the yelling started upstairs and the banging on the door.

"Old woman! Open up! Where's that brat? She takes what she gets. I'm sick and tired of you babying the little ....Mara you bitch shut up!" Then the screaming and the thudding, Nikita cringed in Grandma Tessie's arms.

"Perhaps the law this time, child..." Then the front door slammed open and he yanked her by the hair...

Nikita woke with a gasp of air. She sat up looking around her. The room was bright with sunlight and she was still in the clothes she had worn the night before. She even still had her jacket on. She drew a shaky breath. She hadn't dreamed about those kids in a long time. Still longer had been even thinking much less dreaming about Grandma Tessie.

The old Maori woman was practically blind and stooped with arthritis. Her fingers gnarled like tree limbs. Her toes so curled under shoes were agony for her. The rent from the apartment above and some money she got from a niece in England was all she had. The other relatives gone or out of touch. Nikita didn't think there were many Maori in Perth and she didn't remember ever knowing any others. But Grandma Tessie had taken care of her as if she was really her grandmother.

She drew her knees up to her chest and laid her cheek on them. Everyone who had ever mattered to her had been taken away. Grandma Tessie, Martina, Katie, Reese and she knew that soon the same thing was going to happen to Michael. Deep down Nikita knew she was going to end up alone. Wasn't that how it always went for her? No one stayed with her for long.

Pensively, she looked around the room. She had never gone to Grandma Tessie's funeral. Nikita couldn't even remember if there had been a funeral. But she remembered the cemetery. It was the one near Fremantle. Momma taken her there just before they spent those two months on the farm. Memories from that time were so hazy. And what ones there were seemed to be like a dream. One she could remember well was seeing Momma smile for real, at who she couldn't say. Then it had been back with him and worse than it had been before because there was no one to run to anymore.

Feeling stiff, she slid off the bed. Her foot hit the phone and she picked it up. For a moment she hesitated, staring at it. Should she call Michael? Or maybe Chris? Tell someone where she was and what was going on? What was the sense in that? No one could help her with this thing anyway. Maybe saying thank you to Grandma Tessie for trying would get rid of some of the guilt inside. It couldn't hurt to try.

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"Michael, I need to have few words with you." Suppressing the sigh at the sound of Madeline's voice, Michael stopped moving and turned. So much for slipping out of Section for a while to check in with Claude.

"Yes, Madeline." He clasped his hands in front of him as he waited for her to come up to him.

She smiled her usual smile at him and she crossed her arms in quiet contemplation. "There are times when I feel that we made you a little too perfect. How did you do it?"

"I'm afraid I'm unclear as to what you mean." A siren went off in Michael's head. He knew exactly what she meant. Madeline had tried to contact Claude and got no where. Nikita was out of contact as well, so that left him as the culprit. At least in Madeline's book he was.

"Dumb doesn't come off well on you. Did you monitor and match communications? Maybe you had me followed, perhaps you did it yourself." She studied him closely, looking for the slightest hint. But Michael was unreadable.

"I haven't seen or heard from him since the last time." He waited patiently for her next words. No, she wasn't going to figure any of it out so easily. They were in such an obvious place that she would not even think to look for them there. It was the one place Madeline avoided because of the memories and she didn't like things that did that. Until other arrangements could be made, they were safe.

"You do play the game well. You're not the first and I imagine that we will be playing more but remember I play for keeps. Protect your pieces. I've got you in check."

"In check? As in chess? Why do you think we're playing that here?" Michael asked.

"The chessboard that has always been between us has been quiet for a while. You're feeling confident again, so you've made another move. You've decided the best direction to move in. At the moment, you have your King protected. What about your Queen? Maybe she's not as powerful as her position indicates. She can be pulled from her square by a Pawn."

Silently Michael regarded Madeline. The King was definitely a reference to the children, Claude and his family. The Queen could only be an allusion to Nikita. "It would take more than a Pawn to take my Queen, Madeline. Inspect your side of the board. Your King's exposed and as Queen, you're not as invincible as you think. Watch out for the black Knight. He knows the Queen's darkest secrets. And he's not afraid of making the move of using them to safeguard his side of the board."

Madeline smiled. "Black Knight....how apropos...just remember whose kingdom the board is in." With another grim smile, she moved away. Michael watched her with cold angry in his eyes.

"But the Grand Wizard wants my loyalty. And I think he would pay handsomely for your secrets."

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The woman at the cemetery had been helpful. It hadn't taken her long to find the records and the location. It seemed to be an even shorter space of time to find the grave. It had gotten overcast and Nikita felt a chill run up her back as she stepped up to the row. She had a hard time fighting back the images of her own grave and Michael at his family's. He had such a look of sadness that day. The urge to comfort him had been almost overwhelming but she had resisted for his sake. He had needed to do that.

Just like I need to do this. She stopped at the simple stone and put the single rose on it that she held in her hand. With reservations bout doing this still in her head, she bent and pulled a weed that was near the base of the stone. "Hi...I don't know if you recognize me at all." She pushed up her sunglasses. "I kinda lost the scared ugly duckling look that I had. But I'm by no means a brave swan either. I felt while.... I thought that while I was here in town for a few days I'd finally stop by. Just wanted to say thank you for trying. And thank you for caring. I remember all your lessons."

She ran a hand over the name. "Tessa Paoa-Whyte...Born: Feb. 14, 1912... To Rest: April 2, 1982. You used to say something when they started their yelling and screaming....it meant peace you told me...rongaman or...rongoman...I probably just butchered that. I couldn't say it then either...remember? Yeah, I know a few people who need it. Me included" Nikita stood and pulled the sunglasses back down. "Anyway, thanks and I'll see you later." Shoving her hands into the pocket of her jeans, she walked away, feeling no better than she did before. She hadn't belonged there. The memories certainly hadn't subsided. She needed to leave here and go back. At least at Section there was enough stuff to just about bury anything...

Two people passed her on the path, but she didn't look up. After a few feet, she stopped, smelling the air. The scent was so familiar, where did it come from? A face popped into her head and she whipped around. Snatching the sunglasses from her face, she searched for the two people who had passed her. They were at a grave not too far from Grandma Tessie.

With her heart in her throat, Nikita took a quick left, walking several rows down. Then she worked her way back so she was only two stones away. She knelt down so that her face was hidden but she could see and hear them at the same time. The woman bent down and placed a small bouquet on the ground below the small stone they were at. She turned to the man besides her. Nikita couldn't see the man's face but she could see the woman's.

Breath rushed out of her like it was sucked out by a huge vacuum. Nikita reached her hand out to the stone in front of her to steady herself. The world was swirling and she wasn't sure if she could stay conscious. "Momma" she whispered. Forcing herself to breath normally as her heart crashed against her chest, she stole another look. Her mother looked so healthy, not the gaunt pasty white creature she had seen over 10 years ago.

"I wish I had known your mother, Tay. She sounds like she was quite the lady."

"Yes she was and she would have loved to had you as a daughter-in-law," the man answered. This time the world went black around Nikita as she tried to dig her nails into the cold stone. There was no mistaking that voice. It had been the same on Michael's audio feed. It was the same voice she had listened to tell all those lies and driven her back to the streets. The same voice that belonged to the man who had decided to make her give Katie away. Because she wasn't good enough to be a mother. Only good enough to be something from the streets. That was all she could ever hope to be. No need to destroy an innocent child with her background.

The urge to just lose herself in the darkness danced in front of her like little stars. She staggered to her feet and pushed herself forward. She had to get to the car and she had to get there fast. Nikita stumbled once and then broke into a run. She skidded to a stop on the loose gravel the car was parked on. The keys shook in her hands and the lock didn't seem to want to open. With a small cry of frustration she kicked the side of the car. Finally it opened and she fell in. Hitting the ignition, she floored the gas. Spinning the vehicle in a tight circle, the tires squealed as they left tracks on the cemetery stones.

Brennan turned as he heard the squeal of the tires. "Sibby, she just peeled out of here. Are you starting to feel a little funny about this?" He looked back at the woman beside him. She shrugged.

"I don't know. Hey this was a favor for Moser. He said Section needed this done. Part of some training exercise for a level 3's promotion. We go with the flow. You followed her last night, right? You know where she's staying?" He nodded. "Time to leave a message."

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Doyle moved cautiously into Strategics. He hadn't liked the blunt command in Michael's voice on the phone. In addition, he couldn't think of anything that had happened to get the Iceman started on his back again either. He was even more puzzled when he saw Darcie and Michael hunched over a monitor together. Nikita's little guard dog had become a fixture at ops lately.

Michael looked up and nodded at Doyle. "Thank you for coming so quickly." He turned and aimed a remote in his hand at the bank of monitors. "These are tapes from the mission to retrieve Garton. Help me match operative actions with tactical actions. I need to trace what happened."

He shrugged, knowing once again Michael was trying to rescue Nikita. "Let her get herself out of trouble."

"Excuse me?" Michael looked over his shoulder so he could see Doyle's face.

"Nikita's good enough to take care of herself. Let her get herself out of whatever mess she's in. You don't have to do it for her."

"Doyle, don't be such a damn jackass!" Darcie plowed head first into the renewed struggle between the two men. "She was suppose to be pulling in the last person on that Perth job but we have everybody. There is no reason for her to be looking for anyone. The intel she was given was wrong! If this was is the compromise it looks like it is that means we got a security breach. We need to take care of it. If you two want to discuss your problem with personal alliances around here, do it later!!!"

Sneering at her, Doyle mockingly said, "Yip...yip."

She stood up and walked over to Doyle. Hands on both hips, she glared up at him. "I've listened to your comments enough. Get the guard dog image out of your head. Ask the last person to use it how she felt after I was done with her. The system around here is based on teamwork. We work together to make it work. Do you get it? If the team works then the system works. Let me extrapolate that a little for you...we die...you die. Questions?"

Michael turned his head back, keeping the smirk from his face. Besides sounding like a public service announcement on television, she could talk to a lot of the other operatives here on their own level. Without a qualm in doing it either. Darcie was becoming another rare jewel in the Section One crown. She had made up a flawless completely plausible story line. Covered him by making it a Section problem instead of a problem he was having with Section. Once he found out what was going on, he was going to talk to Oscar. He had to short circuit Madeline, at least for a while. She had him at a disadvantage. But Michael never let himself be that way for long. It was weakness and he didn't like them.

"Where did you first see her concentration diverted?" He kept his eyes on the screen showing ops. He could see the fear in her expression. Michael rewound the ops tape and started it again. The other tape was stopped at the point where he had shoved Garton against the wall and was trying to get a new egress point.

Doyle sat down on the table looking up at the monitors. Leaning back, hands braced behind and legs swinging, he said with a rather bored tone, "Anybody try time indexing them?"

"Darcie..." Michael said softly. Doyle looked from the back of her head to Michael's. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he looked back to the monitors. One set looked like it had lost its vertical and the set was a snowy screen. "Time indexed."

"She must be doing it wrong." With a moan, he got up and went over to where Darcie was sitting. He looked to see what needed adjusting. Nothing did. He looked up at the screens. "Somebody was trying to read the feed. This is why you think fishy is going on?"

Hearing Darcie muttering, he kicked her chair. "You want to try that so I can hear you, brat?"

"Doyle, leave it. Darcie, sit down." Both of their heads snapped around at him. A smile spread over Darcie's face. She was still seated in the chair.

"I never moved." She said smugly.

"Thank you for that bit of restraint. Try to use it more often. Doyle, are you ready to start this?" Michael turned his head to gaze at him.

Shrugging, Doyle held out his hand. "Give me the remote." Michael tossed it to him. "End index Darcie." He waited while the tapes righted themselves. He got the ops tape to where he had first noticed her turning white. "This is where she started to lose it. To tell you the truth, I waiting to catch her when she dropped. She looked like she was going to faint. I've heard of color draining from your face but not your lips too. Look at her." He pointed at the screen with the remote.

Michael held his hand over his mouth as he studied the screen. Nikita literally looked like someone had done up her face with white stage makeup. "What did you say to her there? It was garbled."

Doyle rubbed the tip of the remote across his forehead as he thought. "You were trying to get Garton to walk with you. And you had to stop."

"Before or after the fighting couple?"

"Ummm... I'm not sure. Hey brat, can you get a close up on my mouth. I've gotten pretty good over the years at reading lips." He studied the tape as it ran. "Hmmmm... 'gets no peace'..... That was when that guy stepped in front of you. The one who was talking to you about the beer."

Snatching the remote back, Michael rewound the tape to the spot Doyle mentioned and paused it. "Darcie, can you clear that face up at all?"

"..'ll try, you were in crappy lighting." Doyle watched her and knelt down next to her.

"So you can't tell what you've picked up when you're drunk. Alcohol can make bad things look damn good but lights help even more." Doyle muttered. "Watch this. Here back it out and clear it then sharpen as you go in. There, how's that?"

"Fine. Alright, who is he? Anything in the databank?" His image tugged at the corners of Michael's memories. Either he had seen the man or someone like him before. But which it was and where, he was clueless.

Doyle moved as Darcie got out of her seat and moved to the screens. He started tapping keys and watching them at the same time. Her head was tilted to the side and she studied the face intently. Softly she said, "Oh shit...she's in trouble Michael. Doyle! Where did you guys leave her? Perth?"

Michael could tell that Darcie was agitated. The girl had developed a moat of calmness around her in the past few months especially since working with Nikita. Her mouth would run but there hadn't been the waves of tension or fear that he was feeling now. He reached out and caught a hand, pulling her over. "Darcie, talk to me. How do you know she's in trouble?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. Michael was getting the idea she wasn't afraid but angry at the person on the screen. "Doyle print this....Michael, it's him." She said the last few words through clenched teeth.

"Him?" Michael asked slowly, though he had a very good idea who she meant. He knew Darcie and Nikita had shared things. It was how she had reached the girl. Sometimes he felt Darcie knew more about Nikita than he did.

"That's Taylor. Raymond has a picture of him that he got it from Madeline. That's Taylor Foller."

Snapping the paper out of Doyle's hand, Michael gave a short thank you and strode out of the room. "He looks like he's jealous. What's his beef with this guy?" He swung around to Darcie who was standing in front of the monitors.

Darcie was staring at the now blank screens, arms wrapped around her and cheek resting on her shoulder. She reminded Doyle of a frightened little girl in that position. The bluster she had shown Michael gone. He fought the urge to offer her some encouragement. He had seen her looking at him and didn't want to foster her crush. "He knew Nikita before Section, " Darcie whispered.

"Yeah, so?" There was an ominous hint in the way she said it. This wasn't good.

"He doesn't deserve to be near any woman. Not with the way he hurt her." Doyle moved his eyes from Darcie to the way Michael had gone. The expression of mixed anger and disgust on Darcie's face told him a lot that she was saying out loud. He had read Michael's face wrong though. Jealousy was not the look, it had been cold hard fury. For once, Doyle completely understood and agreed with Michael. He hoped Iceman made it painful for the creep.

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Michael took a deep breath before he entered Operations' office. He had no choice at this point but to pick between the lesser of two evils. And that was Operations. If the man cared for Martina as Michael thought he had, then he had to protect Reese. Wasn't that what she had put in that letter? This elaborate plan of theirs that had been going on for so long? And if Martina had been truthful in her letter that she had asked Operations to make sure that Reese had he and Nikita as parents, could he refuse to help? Could he refuse to stop the threats and warnings?

It struck him like a fist, stopping him as he took a step forward. Now he knew why Taylor had looked familiar in the bar. When he had demanded a talk with Madeline after being to the graves, the two people who had been in the office. The man in sunglasses had been Taylor. But the woman was not someone he had seen before or since. Michael had a fairly clear idea what Madeline was hoping to accomplish. One action with three targets. First, she was trying to teach Nikita a lesson. Show her how to keep what hurt you away and possibly show her how best to use a person's weakness against them.

She was also striking at his own state of mind of late. Nikita was giving a lot of power to the past. Something he had been doing himself and it was pulling him apart. Attack Nikita with the past and he became the one to pick up the pieces she shattered into, he would see the damage it caused. Then maybe he would stop doing it. Before the same happened to him. But it already has....I just swept the pieces into the gutter...and went on....

Finally there was retribution targeted at Operations. He had a premonition that Madeline knew about Martina's request. Why else the hints and subtle threats? The allusions to games and moves? She was acting as Operations liked to. Underhanded but in the bad sense not in the way he did it to gain the most advantage. She was looking for the most damage and the strongest way of expressing her anger. Perhaps even her jealousy over Operations continued contact with Martina. Michael knew years ago both women had been involved with the man. At times, it seemed that it was still going on with Madeline.

Was it possible she had thought this all the way through? He wondered if she had any real conception of how this affected Nikita or even the whole story. How this had traumatized her? He thought about the night he had met her at the cottage in the woods. Her words, her actions; the rage and agony behind them were nothing less than what he felt. How worthless and at fault she felt about it. She had told he that if she hadn't looked it wasn't there, it hadn't happened. 'You try to cover the truth of something bad by painting it a different color' had been the way she put it. But she kept getting slapped with it. She was tired of the bruises and cuts. Nikita wanted it to stop. He understood that all too well.

He knew he had to let go of some things to stop it for himself. To deal with it and accept it. But Michael had a deep seated fear about how she would stop it. She had tried ways before both with the drugs and that time in her apartment. He knew how if troubled she retreated and did what she could to numb the pain. He'd seen her use of alcohol. He had experienced how she used him.

Not only by lashing out at him verbally and she was an expert at that. She could rip your heart out with a few well flung words when she wanted to. But the way she called it 'losing herself' with him. When they were making love, she didn't have to think. It was just them and nothing else. He had to admit to doing the same thing with her. She was a balm for the pain. Only it just wasn't physical, he needed her emotionally. If they had meet before this all started where would they be today? Such a little word with such colossal implications.

Childhood with the innocence and trust it was suppose to have, had been nonexistent for them. And life was giving them both a hell of kick away from ever knowing what either felt like. It kept pounding away at the trust in their relationship. Whatever they had held for most other people had been obliterated. The two people who showed them what it was like, Katie and Reese, were being kept away. No, it had to stop. It had to be now or he was not going to take responsibility for anybody's actions. Least of all his own.

Operations was on his phone when Michael entered. He held up a hand and went back to the conversation. By closing the door behind him, Michael got his complete attention. "Mac, I'll call you later.....What is it Michael?" He could see that there was a paper clamped in his hand, besides an angry bent to the stiffness of his posture. There was something in the face too but he could not tell what. He had a suspicion he was not going to like what Michael had to talk about.

"Can you secure the room, please? We need to talk." There was an edge and rawness to Michael's voice that told Operations he was both very upset and immensely troubled.

As Operations complied, Michael walked over and placed the paper on the desk. He moved tautly over the windows. "Who is this, Michael?"

"Taylor Foller."

" I see. And why do you have his picture?"

"He talked to me at the bar in Perth. Interrupted the Garton retrieval. If you watch the ops tape from the time of our meeting, the sight of him completely threw Nikita off balance."

"We all need to deal with people and old relationships from the past. It's nothing special, but it does happen and we need to work through it." Operations was unsure where he was going with this. It could be the opening he needed to make sure that Michael grabbed the branch he had been offering.

"What do you know about the relationship they had?" He put his back to the window so he could see Operations' face.

"I know he is Katrina's father."

"And?"

"There's not much more beyond that in the file....what are you getting at here?"

"Taylor and Litta Foller had legal custody of Nikita. She was 17 when she had Katie as a result on a non consensual relationship with him." He made a disgusted noise. "Though that's really a less brutal way of saying it. Makes it neater than calling it what it was. Than by calling it rape but.." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he sought control over the urge to yell in anger. "She was forced to give up Katie and back to the streets because of that. She's worried about him coming after her again, though she will refuse to tell you that. Her greatest fear is of him going after Katie and what he might do to her."

"Is this a problem you need to deal with? No, she needs to fix the problem for herself. It's an irrational fear. There is no way for him to connect you to her or the children. It was just a coincidence. Perhaps a few sessions with Madeline or maybe even Raymond to deal with that fear." Operations kept himself from cringing. As long as he termed it a problem, he could push it aside. But now it had a name and more than that. He didn't want to think this as a threat to her. But it did indeed pose a threat not only to the Section but to Michael and those kids. He began to make a mental list of people he could use to help.

Michael shook his head. "No....I'm taking a huge risk here. You have expressed to me a desire to renew or more aptly regain the alliance we used to share. I'm counting on that desire as I tell you this. Things are happening that are not going to end well. Too many people are going to get hurt badly unless this is stopped. The situation has two parts."

He paced back to the window to look out again. "Part one....Three weeks ago I saw Taylor Foller and another woman in Madeline's office. Two days ago he pops up in the middle of the Garton retrieval. Right in front of me. Nikita had a clear view and froze. Now Madeline has her on a pickup at the exact same location. I imagine you know nothing about someone from the cell in Perth being missing? The recovery botched?"

"No," Operations answered. An ugly picture was forming and he knew that Michael hadn't finished painting yet. But he was at the same time stunned. Madeline had lashed out at an operative at a personal level. And Michael was making the next move and had touched the branch. Now he had to make sure he grabbed it. plus figure out how it deal with Madeline. There was a definite potential for repercussions from this.

"She looking for a confrontation between the two. It can go two ways. Nikita retaliates and perhaps kills him. Or he goes after her and attacks her again..."

"Then we have to worry about you." He had dealt with the aftermath of Bauer. It had not been pretty. It had taken some explaining too. Oversight had gotten into that one. Fortunately CC had kept her nose out of it, due to the brush off George had given it. Thanks goodness for Walter and Birkoff though. If they were film editors, George Lucas would be able to do a movie every two years instead of ten.

"Either way there will be an aftermath to deal with. None of which will be beneficial to Section. That's part one. I can deal with it and hopefully stop anything from happening. But I need to go there and do it. I just can't be in two places at once. That is where part two comes in. I know what Martina asked you to do for Reese. I know she wanted you to protect him and make sure he had a family. I know she asked you to make sure that Nikita and I were to be that family. It means a lot to know she thought of and hoped for us in that way."

"She felt she and Section owed you Michael. More than was repayable. She felt Nikita was owed something too. You I can understand but Nikita..... I guess she just looked at and understood what was in those eyes the way you did." The letter confirmation he had dreaded but it gave him an opening here. He gave the best validation of them he could at that moment.

Why do I feel like he has accepted my relationship with her? Likes he says it is allowable now? This is the second time.... Well if he is being this way, I might as well say what I thinking... Michael looked down as he started to speak again. "Nikita and I both care a lot about him. I also have to come care a great deal for Katie." He bought his eyes level with Operations.

"I see them as mine. I feel they're mine. I can not explain the feelings but they are real. Being apart from them has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. It has for Nikita as well. We have both made requests over the past month to see them, just for a while. They have been refused. We have asked how they are. We have been told it is none of our business."

"I know it's dangerous. But I can't rationalize this." He squared his shoulders and braced himself because he wanted to face the reaction and back it down if necessary. "That's wrong. Neither of us deserves this treatment. I refused to accept it or subject Nikita and the children to it anymore. So I monitored Madeline's communications and I found them. I moved them to a temporary location. Till I can find somewhere safer...."

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Chapter 8

In shock and disbelief it took Nikita hours to get back to her hotel room. The car was somewhere out in the city. She couldn't remember where. She didn't have the keys either. Somebody was going to be pissed about that. Who fucking cares anyway.... "NOT ME!!!" she screamed as she slammed the door shut behind her. The world had become dark with heavy impenetrable clouds. Her heart had slowed its wild beating and she could almost breath normally. But her head pounded brutally. Stopping at that decrepit stinking bar hadn't helped either. She hadn't needed more alcohol. It wasn't numbing her enough, at least not yet. She had that and more to get it done right.

She tossed the bag on the bed. The glass bottles in it clunking as it landed. Giving a short coarse laugh, she pulled the five little packets of out of her jacket and put them one by one on the desk. There was still some sense of self in her head but it wasn't very strong. All Nikita knew was that she hurt more than she had ever thought possible. Talk about betrayal. She felt like the worst one ever had been committed against her. She kept playing it over and over in her head. Somehow she must have heard something wrong. Maybe that hadn't even been Momma...

"Give it up!!! You can't cover up this one up!!" She pushed the packets around on the desk with her finger. There was some greenish brown powder in each. She pulled at the material of her shirt. It felt tight, as if it was trying to smother her. Why did she have to feel? Why did she have to feel anything? The little bald guy with the mustache and slight European accent had been right. Better way was not to feel anything at all. Dead but breathing, eyes open without seeing, being without the pain, and to kept her figure, the sweetness of sugar without the calories. She stripped off her coat and whipped it across the room. It hit the lamp that hung over the table and sent shadows ricocheting off the walls.

She picked up a packet and smelled it. The only odors were leather and plastic. Gritting her teeth, she clenched the packet in her fist. Which way would be quicker? In a fit of anger she grabbed her overnight bag of the chair by her and flung it across the room, too. Its contents spewed across the room in a wide arc. "I don't know what you're plotting but you are not going to drive me nuts!! You're not driving me back to this!!!" She stood in the still room, her rapid breathing the only sound. With a groan she sunk to the floor in a crouch, both hands clenched in fists to her temple. Why the hell was this happening? What did she do to whom to deserve this?

She blinked her eyes several times to try and get rid of the spots in front of them. It wasn't very successful. Gradually she sat on the floor, legs spread in front of her. Could Taylor really had done this? Come back to Perth, somehow got Momma clean, sane even and then married her? He knew her name, he knew who she was...the name had been all over those papers he had throw in her face the first time she had tried to run away. That was the first time he had gotten violent too. She flinched at the memory. He had been careful not to leave any visible signs either.

The words from the club pounded in her head
Slap me, trash me, choke me, bruise me,
spend me, lose me, lie to me, dement me....

"It didn't happen. It didn't happen." She whispered fiercely to no one. Maybe she figured if she kept saying it, then it would be true. It would all just go away. A voice inside her head mocked her.....then Katie never happened...she doesn't exist then...you wouldn't have to forget what doesn't exist.....none of this would exist... not Michael... not Reese... not even you...

It got her to her feet. She ripped the plastic bag on the bed open and pulled out a bottle. Anything to divert her attention from her thoughts. She fought to get the top off. She took a long drink. Gagging a bit as it went down, not only on the taste but the image in her head of the scene at the graveyard. "So Momma didn't you know who the bastard was? Or were you still so coked out of it when the papers were served that you couldn't remember? There visiting poor Taylor's dead mommykins. How special, how loving, how god damn sickening sweet!' She took another swallow. The head pain was going away or maybe the liquor was doing what she had hoped it would. Make as much as possible stop.

"Bitch! Have you ever been to mine? Do you even know I'm dead? I don't exist anymore! Just what you always wanted. That was why you looked so happy with him. The biggest burden of your life is gone. You looked so happy.... as if the past never happened. That means that I never happened to you. Just a face that appeared once among the many. One that really doesn't matter. One that never really did at all. You don't even know about her!!" The tears started and she couldn't stop them. The only true family she had was Katie. And that had been yanked from her like a plug. It made her feel like there was nothing....

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"This is a serious infraction." Operations said quietly. Michael had blow protocol to smithereens. But he understood it. It was as Raymond said, Michael was protecting.

"I'm not the only one who has but I have very good reasons. I'm not acting out of revenge unlike some people around here. I'm protecting Reese and Katie. Nikita and myself too. There have been threats made. Against them and against us."

"Meaning?" Operations watched Michael closely as he walked to the desk. He was more revealing with his feelings and wants than he had ever been before. He had a feeling the request was going to be a major one if not the worst possible ultimatum.

"Earlier, Madeline stopped me several levels down. She wanted to congratulate me on my move. Glad our chess game was going again. But by protecting my King, I left my Queen unprotected. So she sent a Pawn after my Queen." He put a hand down on the picture. "This is her Pawn. And you know why she's doing this? This is punishment for the three of us... you... me... Nikita.. .for lying to her about Reese and about Katie. Even though she knows about what he did in the past, she sent the animal after Nikita anyway. I can't let it happen to her again."

Operations exhaled loudly. "What do you want me to do? You should have come to me before this. You should have talked to me and then we could have worked together to move them, sent her somewhere else..... Worked on keeping all of them out of harm's way."

"I wasn't sure I could trust you. I'm still not. But I need help. I have to find a better place than where they are now. It is a secure spot but I am still uneasy. I want Madeline to back off. I want the time to get to Nikita and to deal with the situation as I see fit. I also want time with the children. For both of us. In return, along with my renewed loyalty, I'll take the olive branch you've offered. We can try to mend the fences so to speak. I will help you to make good on the promises you made to Martina. I will do as you ask as long as it does not endanger what is important to me."

Michael's words made Operations take a thankful pause. Michael wasn't asking for freedom, just leeway and safety. Then his head went into high gear "Where did you hide them? We can put them at the Tower for now. It can be secured and not overridden. She won't think of there because she knows you don't have access to it." A grim frown crossed his face as he started to pick up the phone.

Suppressing a smirk, Michael replied, "They all ready there."

For a long moment Operations perused the young man in front of him. "At least I thought you didn't have access.... Smart move. You going to do what you believe is right even if kills you now, aren't you? You know since the two of you have been together, I've been amazed at your determination, your emotional strength and growth. You've regained a lot of what Philippe took. I'm glad to see it because I'm beginning to see realize that we can't stay in bits and pieces forever. You've got what you need, name it." He held out his hand. "We can even shake on it."

Michael extended his own. He kept his breathing although his heart was pounding erratically. The risk was so great and his trust in this man was so weak. But he had no choice. Papa had told him to trust Raymond for the sake of Nikita and the children. Well, he was making this call on his own. The clasping of their hands felt all right for now.

Operations gazed thoughtfully at the slightly bowed head in front of him. He actually wanted to hug Michael. It felt almost like a family member coming home. He had to confess to feeling almost giddy. If I could pick Stephen a brother, you would be my choice Michael. He could learn a lot from you. "Thank you Michael."

"I need to ask one more thing of you. And I want you to be truthful. I need to know this, for Nikita's sake. Is Martina still alive?"

A furious debate exploded in Operations' head. To tell him the truth or paint it so it wasn't so ugly. He shook his head. Michael sighed painfully.

"Then Nikita did kill her at the memorial park." Michael felt physical pain in his chest. There was no way he could ever tell her this. She had to be protected from it at all costs.

"No, George caught her afterwards, when she was trying to hide out. Martina was alive when Nikita walked away from her. It was a set up. It gave her an opportunity she otherwise would not have been able to get." It gnawed at him that he had to lie about something to do with Martina but there was nothing else he could do. It was exactly completely untrue either. Martina had been alive. He held the cool gaze of Michael, who was searching his face, making sure he was getting the truth. It was almost the truth, the important kernels were there at least.

"I need to go now." Obviously he was satisfied with what he had been told. Operations nodded, Michael did have to get to Nikita. He got curious as Michael put his hand in his jacket and pulled out what appeared to be a photo. He held it out. "I want you to have this. His name is Jerrod. He turns 15 in 3 weeks. He's with Claude. You should get to know him. He's quite the young man. Wants to be a lawyer. You'll like him."

"I don't understand."

"Ask Madeline." And with that, he was out the door.

Operations studied the photo of the teenager. He had steel gray eyes, not unlike his own. And the reddest hair he had ever seen. "Good looking boy....wonder how Madeline knows him...."

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There was nothing. Not even anything with Michael was sure. Let Madeline work on him a little more and that would burn off like a fog too. She took another drink. Anything that was remotely right got taken away. It only left the bad. The bad that cruel sneer that Momma had always bestowed on her had meant. She was just that stupid little slut that she had always been told she was. Taylor was just responsible for bringing it to full bloom. She had offered and he had taken the offer wholeheartedly.

He had been right. She had said yes the first time, that cancelled out all the times of saying no. "Cancelled ....now there's a word. Good word. Says it all, doesn't it? I've given into that place just like I did him. Too god damn weak to stand up for myself. I don't deserve her. I can't stand up for her. I can't protect her. The only thing I protect and take care of it is what they want. I said yes by killing the first time and now none of the no's mean anything."

She fling the half empty bottle at the dresser. It crashed against the mirror and shattered. The glass tumbled in pieces to the top of the dresser along with a chunk of the mirror. The clear liquid dripped from the wall and the remaining mirror to the top of the dresser. There was a knock at the door and then a voice.

"Nik? Can you hear me? I heard glass breaking. Are you ok?" Nikita stared in shock at the door. How did Taylor find her? How did he follow her? Last night, it had been last night. He had seen her. She walked to the desk and opened the drawer. "Nik, baby, open the door. I need to know you're alright." He knocked harder this time. Pulling out her gun, she screwed the silencer on and pointed it a little lower than midpoint of the door.

"I hope this hurts as much as it hurt me all the time." She pumped two bullets threw the door and threw the gun at it. She needed another drink.

Brennan stumbled against the wall, blood seeping through his pant leg. Sibby grabbed him before he fell. "She freaking shot me! What the hell is going on here?" She wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him stand straighter.

"I don't know but I think we're going to stop playing. Somebody didn't tell us the truth about this. Nobody was suppose to get hurt at this. Jesus! How many times did she hit you?" Sibby quizzed him as she eased him down the hall.

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Doyle almost knocked Saphil down as he barreled into Ops. "Birkoff, we got a problem man. One hell of a problem!!"

Annoyed at being disturbed once again which meant he still couldn't leave, Birkoff tossed his headset in the air. Rolling his eyes and looking over his glasses at Doyle, what his body language didn't spell out, his tone of voice did. "What?"

"Somebody been watching us for 6 weeks at least. Every damn feed from every blessed mission." He held a disk out to Birkoff.

Adjusting his glasses and scratching an eyebrow, Birkoff folded his arms across his chest. "And my dear Holmes, how do you deduce this startling ominous conclusion"

With a growl, he shoved Birkoff out of the way and loaded the disk. "Michael was checking out the mission tapes for grabbing the boy toy. OK? He was trying to match by time frame action on site with action in ops."

"You time index them then. Any moron knows that."

He nodded. "That's what I said. He had Darcie with him so I thought she was screwing it up somehow. No, man, she had it perfect. One set was snowy, the other had scrolling problems."

"An outside source on the feed." Birkoff began to get worried. He didn't like the sounds of this.

"That's what I said. He got what he wanted and he booked out of there. Darcie admitted to me after Michael left the room that the security breach story was bs. But I had lit a spark in her about the outside monitoring. We really couldn't time index the frames. We started looking and this is what we found." He pointed to the screen. "Every mission....somebody had been observing each one. But it's an inside reading feeding to an outside source."

Birkoff studied the screen. "Shit...OK!!! Guys!!! Somebody call Saphil back in here. Doyle, get Darcie up here. Start purging the system. We got a snoop!!" Activity burst open around ops. He grabbed Doyle's arm. "I owe you one. Keep an eye on things here. I got to let Operations know."

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Madeline reached over and grabbed her phone with a puzzled expression. It never rang here unless it was Claude and she knew Michael had that under lock and key or an operative on a confidential. It didn't make sense, she had no one out beyond Nikita, whom she told not to make contact with her. "Yes?" she answered cautiously

"Madeline." It was Michael. Now she was very surprised. Why would he be calling her like this?

"What is it, Michael?"

"Just wanted to tell you something."

"Yes?" she continued still cautious. He sounded controlled and that meant he was dangerous. It also meant he had been up to something.

"Checkmate and Jerrod is in play." The line went dead as she sat with the phone to her ear. Michael had made his move and landed on his feet like a cat. For some where he had found protection.

"You are a exemplary opponent, my dear. You play me almost too well. But I don't think there is too much holding your Queen on the board by now."

"Madeline!" Operations' voice barked over the com speaker.

"Yes, Oscar?" She tried to control the slight tremble in her voice. She wasn't ready to discuss Jerrod. With any one, not even Oscar.

"I want you up here now. We have a problem."

"I'll be right there." The connection snapped closed. She stood and drew in a deep breath. He would want the truth. And that meant she had till then to decide what is was. The walk to his office was going to be longer than the trip back from Claude's that day.

Keeping her armor tightly in place, she went towards the loft. The activity surprised her, especially in ops. It was chaotic with Birkoff in the center of it. Shouting directions and yelling out numbers and answers. One by one she noticed the banks of computers shutting down. It spurred her to move faster up to the loft. Something serious was going on.

Operations heard her enter but didn't turn from the window. He blew a small puff of smoke out. He could just make out her reflection in the glass. "What's all the activity for?"

He turned at her question and leaned against the railing. "Doyle and Darcie found a bug while helping Michael with a problem. Birkoff is purging the system. Someone has been monitoring missions. Possibly Oversight or Investigations. Birkoff seems to feel it was an inside snoop. That was why it took so long to detect."

"I see." She stepped up beside him and looked out the window. "Are we endangered?"

"I don't know. I'm waiting for a call back from Mac. I want to know if he was involved with this somehow."

"Oh...was this the reason you called me up here? I'm not really any use during the purge. Perhaps we should get something to eat across the street?" She looked him over carefully, trying to judge his mood and thoughts. He studied the systems that blinked on and off on the wall behind his desk.

"Did you ever read 'Paradise Lost' by Milton?" Madeline nodded with a small bemused smile. "Tell me what this quote means to you 'Our torments also may in length of time, become our elements.' I find its implications quite profound."

"That which bothers us, be it past, present or future, we gradually adsorb and make part of us. In other words, experience makes the person, to be non sexist there. Why does it strike you so?"

"Should a person be forced to assimilate 'the bother' before they are ready?"

The point he was trying to make was clear to Madeline but she shrugged as if taking him at face value. She wanted to see what he was going to do. "It is not always the wisest thing to do. It can be damaging. Some of which may prove to be difficult if not impossible to repair." It was quite easy to see where this was coming from. He had laid everything out for Operations. She wasn't pleased with this side of Michael that Nikita was bringing out.

First he had turned Katie against her before they even met and now he had thrown her to Oscar without giving her a chance to build a defense. There was no point trying now. She only had to work around it. There was always an advantage to be found in each wrong turn or miscalculation, whether it be your own or someone else's. One just had to look for it.

"I feel very strange having to have this kind of conversation with you. You're well versed in how things work around, Madeline. You helped set up much of the structure within which we currently work. You develop the recruitment and help with the training. Not only are you a valued colleague but I have always respected you and the work you do." He got no reaction out of her so he went on.

"However I have no respect for this incident, only loathing. I want you to keep all of that in mind the next time you want to teach an operative a lesson. Leave cruelty and the personal side out of it. If you feel you have to make a point with me, make it to my face, not through someone else. I know what you did and it is callous. There was no reason to strike at anyone with something of this nature. It shows me a very ugly side of you that I had hoped did not exist. I don't want to see it again. I warn you though, if something has happened that can not be repaired or better yet has happened at all, there will be severe repercussions. Am I understood?" He turned his head so he could look at her. The face he still felt was very beautiful was as hard as stone.

"Who is the cheerleader now?"

"It's called cutting losses. We lose him, we lose everything he's got and everything he is with her."

"Overboard sentimentality for what used to be in the past is more accurate I believe. Times change, Oscar and so do people. He's not who he was 10 even 5 years ago. He senses his freedom. The idea that he has leverage with us gives him a false sense of power. His aggression towards Section and towards us increases at every turn. She fuels it with her attitude and the constant need to fight for her way. It needs to be..."

"The aggression is only a protective response to hostility aimed at them and the ones they care about. We've both been guilty of that. Yes, some of it had a good reason...."

"Is that Raymond I hear in those words? Or just a line you gleamed along the way from Martina? You set the rules. Follow them."

"Sometimes rules have to be bent or revised. Otherwise things get stagnant. They decay and die. My deeds focus on one thing here. It's called the future. I'm preserving it. Michael and Nikita will be away two weeks on a confidential for me. We'll need to pull in a few from other areas to compensate."

"You've agreed to cooperate with him. And in the process giving her exactly what she wants and what she's convinced him to want. Stab me in the back again, Oscar. I know you like the feel of the blade as it goes in. They taught you that very well."

Operations ignored the bitter vengeful sounding words. He had hurt her and he was sorry about how things had evolved. But he was quite serious in his words about the future. Things were changing. The trend of the war they fought was still globular but the focus was narrowing. They were going to need good people. But people who understood the need of not sacrificing other people for the good it reaped. The harvest was not as plentiful as it had been in the past. "I had the opportunity to make an offer and it was accepted. That is all."

"You've given him all the control he's ever going to need. Are you ready to pack up and leave on your own terms? Or are you going to wait till one of them decides to get rid of you as we've done to others? All that talk about shortages and other lack of personnel..." She put her hands up on the railing and tried to steady herself.

So Michael had indeed outplayed her very well on this, but there was still a chance. The outcome of the deception on Nikita was still uncertain. There were only two ways for it to go. She would be either shattered or fully enraged at Michael. Those pieces that she and Oscar had discussed so fervently in the past were hopefully well scattered. Just as too many things for her had been over the years.

"I kept a promise." Oscar's words rang false in her ears. Madeline made a sound of disgust. Obviously he only felt that particular ones that fit his personal mold. "Some of us still understand what that means." He flipped the picture of Jerrod at her. "Who is he, Madeline?"

She flicked a look at the picture. He look exquisite in the dark suit. Handsome and happy as his father had once been. No still is...always will be too. Girls where he went to school probably watched him as he walked down the hall. He doesn't go to school Madeline. You made that impossible. "He's the child of two Section operatives. He's been with Michael's friend Claude and his wife, Annika since he was 2 months old. They are the only parents he's ever known. He should be about 15 by now."

"In three weeks he will be. I want to know who his parents are."

"I made a promise too. I do understand the meaning of one." Madeline gritted her teeth as Operations slapped the picture down on the wood so hard it shook violently under her hands. She didn't reach to take the photo from his grasp, so it fell, drifting to the carpet.

"I'm glad to hear it." The words were spoken soft and tight. He left her by the window, the picture on the floor between her feet. Looking down, she took in the bright smile and laughter filled eyes. As she swallowed passed the dryness in her throat and mouth, Madeline brought her eyes up. She stared out through the glass for a long while.

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The knock at the door startled Annie from her sleep. Weariness had finally overwhelmed her after the furious departure from the house. Claude was already coming out of the kitchen with the man who called himself Mac. Before he could get to the door, Mac stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"Yeah?" Mac asked, losing his slight Scottish accent and sounding like someone from the Southern United States.

"It's Fran." Motioning Claude back, Mac opened the door. A smile appeared under his full white mustache.

"Enter." The Scottish accent was back. He stepped back and allowed a man about his age to enter the room.

"Good to see you, Ollie." the man replied. They shook hands and spoke briefly in hushed tones. He had the same military bearing as Mac which struck Annie. And Claude too, by the look he sent her way. The new arrival was around 5'11'' and thinly built in contrast to the burly over 6 foot frame of Mac. His hair was various shades of gray and conservatively cut.

Mac had casually dressed in jeans and sweater while the other one wore black dress pants, a black turtleneck and gray tweed coat. In his hand, he held a white bag that appeared to be full of Styrofoam containers. "I brought some sandwiches and things for a meal. I wasn't sure if you had time to eat or not. I'm Oscar Wolfe."

He stepped forward and handed the bag to Claude. "You must be Claude. I'm heard some good things about you. I owe you and your wife some words of thanks. Not only for what you've done for Michael and Nikita but what you're doing for the two children. And if I'm not mistaken you've both helped us out in some other situations over the years. Unfortunately my words of thanks don't make up for any of the grief that you've had to experience. I wish I could change things."

Claude looked at Annie as she came up beside him. She looked Oscar up and down with a critical eye. With a frown forming on her face, she took the bag from Claude's hands and disappeared into the kitchen. "Sorry for the silent treatment." He motioned to the couch. "Would you take a seat? I can offer you some spring water."

"I'm fine." Oscar said and Mac nodded in agreement.

"Claude, I'm going to leave but I'll be back in a couple of hours. Everything will be set then. Once I start this, there is no turning back. Are you sure you want this to go forward?"

"There is too much at stake for there to be only Annie and I with them. Other means are necessary. I accept the changes that are needed to make this work." He paused, seeming to gather himself as he swept his eyes along the pattern of the runner he stood on. When he brought back up his head and Oscar saw the resolution in his eyes, he could only think of Michael. Something told him Claude would have been a great operative. "Thank you, Mac," Claude said in a tired voice. Mac gave him a brief smile and slipped out the door.

Sitting on the edge of the chair opposite of Oscar, Claude took a turn studying him. "So you are the gentleman Michael calls Operations. It feels strange to finally meet you. I've heard a lot of things about you over the years. Not always kind. I'm going to be very blunt about this. I don't approve of your methods though I am fully aware at times there can be no other choice. I have a great amount of distaste for the things you and Madeline have done not only to Michael and Nikita but to others I have met from Section One. You've thrown a lot of good people away. "

"I know. There is a lot of which I'm not proud. But like you pointed out, at times there has been no other way."

Claude nodded at Operations' words. "I know. The world is not an easy place. It hurts me to put them through this but I don't know of any other way except being on the run. I'm not going to let his children grow up like that. Not with the amount of fear we did. Not having to make the decisions we did. I can't ask that of the boys or my wife either. I've asked enough of them already. They have given up more than should have ever been expected of them."

"How many do you have? Boys I mean. I know of Jerrod, Michael mentioned him."

A brief smile appeared on Claude's face. Either Operations knew the whole tale and was looking for more information or Michael had just opened the door a crack and was letting Fate do the rest. "There are only two now. There were close friends who knew of my 'work'. They have the other three and will take on my duties in that area. Meghan is a good strong woman. She'll be good at it."

"The other boy?"

"That would be William, or Willie as he now prefers. I'm sure it will become Will in a year or two. Sounds a bit more grown up, more like he has always sounded." Claude laced his fingers together as he stared at them to the floor. He was proud of both the boys. They were turning into fine young men. Willie accommodated each change in their lives with amazing speed. Nothing seemed to bother him except the way Katie had been acting. To him, she was special and he had to protect her. She was the only one of them anymore that could ever keep up with his rapid fire thinking and normal form of conversation.

Jerrod on the other hand was developing into a problem. He was angry and aloof. Each one of them had been railed against in the past few weeks. The only one it hadn't bothered was Katie. She had faced his tantrum, there was no other word for it, with icy silence. Reese was the only family member that Jerrod didn't get angry at, for long anyway. The hero worship he saw growing in the toddler gave Jerrod the ego boost he needed. Especially now that Jerrod's lifelong dream of being a lawyer were in serious jeopardy. In that light, Claude could forgive the boy's anger.

"Who are their parents?" Operations' question caught Claude off guard. He knew it was going to be asked but not so soon.

"I am not sure of Jerrod. He came into my life so unexpectedly. Annie and I weren't even married yet. We were still really courting each other you could say. And suddenly I had a 2 month old to care for. I had to explain everything to her. Next thing I knew we were before the magistrate. I needed that focus though. Jerrod replaced Michael in my life. For 7 years I had followed him and then I was on the outside again. I shadowed his life, acting like a really bad guardian angel. Trying to keep him alive. I met Madeline by doing just that. She said she would help him. I agreed to help her....."

"Help?" Operations prodded gently. Many of Madeline's activities he allowed to go forth without hinder. He saw her as an equal and did not question her methods....until recently.

"Yes, she would get him away from L' Araigne. Give him some kind of life back. I've always done my part. Not her. She's just allowed the bad to keep.... He should have been separated from Simone. Until he was stronger...." Claude pulled back from his next words. The girl had loved Michael and he knew his friend had felt the same for her. Simone had not been bad, but there had been that side of her that bothered Claude.

"But I won't go into all that now. Perhaps we can discuss it at another time. Meet and talk about things from my perspective. Let you know some of the man that you might not know or have never seen. Things that both Madeline and Simone covered up but which Nikita is slowly bringing to light." He stood, taking a deep breath. "As for Willie, I know his parents, his father quite well. His mother is just a bittersweet memory now."

"He's yours." Operations said softly. Claude nodded as he looked towards the kitchen door and frowned. "Does she know?" This time the head shake said no. "Was his mother Section?"

"Yes, after Annie and I married, Madeline sent me to your group in Northern Europe. I was there 6 long months."

"Disa's little boy..." Operations said quietly. She had refused to say who the father was. It was not long after the child had been born that he had ordered her cancelled for unrelated reasons. " I didn't know. I'm not going to ask for forgiveness. I'm not going to say I'm sorry either. There was no choice." He brought his eyes level with Claude's. "I am serious about everything I've said."

"I know."

"But it doesn't change things, does it?"

"No, nothing changes the past. It's already been carved into the rock." Claude said through tight lips. Silence followed for several minutes. Finally Claude took a deep breath and said, "A tremendous amount has been asked of me and my family. I want to make it clear to you that I do it out of loyalty and love for Michael. The four of them are as important to Annie and myself as our own family. But we can not take this upheaval all the time and neither can Reese and Katie."

Operations nodded. "I know. Are they still awake by any chance?"

"Katie took Reese in a while ago, he was pretty cranky. We can look. Follow me." Claude cracked open the first door on the left in the hallway. On the small bed, Operations could make out two forms. One a small boy, the other a young girl.

The light shone on their faces. "Meet Reese and Katie," Claude whispered. Operations took in the two sleeping children. He could see Martina in Reese's small face and knew if the child opened his eyes, he would be looking at hers. He had been sucking his thumb which now hung partially out of his mouth as he laid flat on his back. The girl, Katie, laid on her side with an arm protectively wrapped around him. Her hair caught the light like he had seen Nikita's do so often.

"No denying who her mother is. What color are her eyes?" Operations had to know, from here she looked very much like Nikita.

Claude suppressed a smile. They might not be able to change the past but it seemed the man wanted to work the future out properly. "Blue, she is her mother's daughter, as they say."

"I can imagine." He looked to the side as he felt a presence. The young man who stood there came to about Claude's shoulder and had dirty blonde hair with brown eyes.

"Katie and Reese ok, Dad?" Claude smiled and squeezed the boy's shoulder. Operations didn't really see a resemblance between Claude and the boy. Maybe there was a little of Disa around the eyes. The hair and eye color were similar to what hers had been like though.

"Yes Willie, they're fine. You can relax your guard now. She finds out you were hounding her again, she going to slug you. You know she hates that."

Willie shrugged, "Doesn't matter. Just want to make sure she's ok. Got to watch out for her."

"Stop being such a big brother. There's some food in the kitchen."

"You mean bother as Reese says. Food! Great! I'm starving." Willie rubbed his hands together with a big grin. He started forward before Claude grabbed him.

"Get Jerrod."

"Naw, Dad. He's 'brooding' again. Mom said not to talk to him when he gets like that. I like my head in one piece. You can get him out of there." He pulled his arm away from Claude and went towards the kitchen. Giving Operations a half smile, he rapped quietly on the next door.

"Jer, food in the kitchen." There was a thud on the door. "If you can find the heart to come out, your mother would appreciate it." Another thud followed it. Operations watched as Claude straightened his hand out on the wood of the door in a stroke. "Fine," he whispered. With a troubled expression on his face, he motioned Operations to follow him. Before he did, Operations took one last look at Katie and Reese, gently closing the door.

Claude had called them Michael's children. That meant they were Nikita's too. Operatives were not meant to be parents. The only family was to be Section and its needs the only ones to be concerned about. Children were problematic. There was no way to make them part of the Section world. These were too close as it was. The game being paid with their well being was insane. But Operations was caught in the middle. He felt obligated to fulfill Martina's wishes. On the other hand he had to preserve the work of Section One. And that meant keeping Michael and Nikita within the fold. This was the only way to do both.

Claude threw himself into one of the living room chairs and sighed loudly. Operations sat back down. "Those thuds were his sneakers or maybe his boots. In other words, stay out of my face and don't talk to me. I don't remember being like that at his age." With a sigh, Claude scratched his forehead and arched his eyebrow, "What about you?"

"In some ways I suppose I was. However, when you were his age, you were trying to stay alive."

"Yes, you are right," Claude said with a short bitter laugh. He looked at the floor again. Once again Operations got the impression that the man was gathering himself together. The world weary eyes came up to his. "Are we at the end of this? Or is there more for me to worry about? How much longer before I get to see my wife laugh again? Before I can sleep through the night without waking at every noise, worried it might be someone coming after my family?"

"I hope we are. Mac has asked me not to question him or Michael on the details. I guess that should extend to you also. I'm placing my trust in Mac. I don't have another choice. I just hope that Martina is ok with it where ever she is."

"Trust...that's what Michael said to do. He is very worried about trusting you. He does not hold the same trepidation for Mac. I'm with him on that but you seem sincere in this. We each hold a secret for the other. Let the trust build on top of them so there will never be a reason for them to be revealed.....Martina....that's Reese's mother. Is she still...."

Now it was time for Operations to shake his head. "No." Claude's way of thinking was a little askew. Trust built on secrets. Seemed very shaky to him besides what secret of his did Claude know. Something Michael had witnessed and stored away for the future if he needed it? There were many of those.

There was a slight grimace to Claude's face before he spoke. "Are the plans still in place for his father?"

Operations looked at Claude with a puzzled expression. "Plans?"

"Michael told me that Section plans to eliminate him."

"That would be based on what...." Operations stopped in mid sentence and looked over to his right as he felt eyes again. The other boy, Jerrod, leaned against the wall. He was a bit taller that the picture of him indicated. The smile was gone from his mouth and eyes. Anger showed on both now. He seemed to be an intense young man. The strength in those grayish blue eyes was clear. The shock of red hair on his head was something to see. He would not be hard to miss in a crowd. The picture had not done justice to its true color.

"Are you happy now? I came out." He looked at Operations. "Who are you?"

"I work with Michael."

"Oh....the head honcho. What do you want?"

Claude stood and walked over to him. He kept his voice low but Operations could still make out the words. "Cut the mouth now. I've had enough of it. I have a good idea where it's coming from. I can't help the way things are. We talked about this happening and you were ok with it. Now all of a sudden you putting up this little display of teenage angst about your situation. Act like an adult and deal with it."

Jerrod glowered somberly at him. He wished Dad could see what was really going on. There was no way to possibly make him understand how it felt inside. How it felt to have no friends, no fun, no real anything anymore. He was being used just like he had heard Michael talk about all the times he visited. And to think it had all started with her. Reese couldn't help things. He was just a little guy. Maybe if he made a comment in front of this guy who Michael worked for then things would go back to normal. "Then why don't you act like one by taking some responsibility here and tell them to take care of their own kids?"

"You seem to forget, Jerrod, Willie was once like them. Would you like me to contact his birth parents and them to come get him? Take responsibility for him?"

"Give me a break. I didn't say that."

"You did. Use that lawyer personae you favor so much and turn it around on yourself. Then say it again. They need a safe place just like the others have. They may stay for a long time but that doesn't mean we feel any different about you."

"Well I need my parents, a home, friends and a life. I've had all of it taken away from me! This is so full of bull...."

"Not another word, Jerrod. You will not use that language with me." Claude's hand slowly clenched into a fist as his side and then flexed back out. He was close to losing his temper at the boy.

"Don't you...."

"Now before you and I both regret the consequences." Operations could hear the strain in Claude's voice. The boy was hard as steel. He would make a good lawyer if he ever got a chance.

"I already do. And they're it!" Jerrod spin away from him and slammed back into the room he came out of. Claude stared at the wall for a time. He needed to let the emotions settle. He listened for sounds from the room where Katie and Reese slept. There was nothing. He did hear the soft creak of the swinging kitchen door. Annie had been watching, something would be said about it later. When they were alone, he was sure of it. Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at Operations.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Tension has been a little much lately. He is really fond of them. We're just tired. All of us."

"Quite the handsome boy. His picture doesn't do him justice."

"You have a picture of him?"

"Yes Michael gave it to me. He said I should meet him and that he was quite the young man. He seems rather upset about your present situation."

"Yeah, has been off and on since Michael and Nikita showed up rather dramatically at our home. He's restless and a bit resentful. It has always been Willie and him with others moving in and out. He senses a permanence with Reese and Katie. He feels cheated out of his life. I empathize completely with him. I felt that way for a good part of my life. But how can I tell a child of that life? I can't tell him what my teenage years were like and the things I've helped in throughout mine and Michael's friendship. I don't have the strong of belief that he will accept as Michael felt Katie would. I fear his rejection of me."

"Why?"

"I fear losing my son. I fear waking up and not finding him in his bed. Michael doesn't have that fear. Why I don't know. Perhaps his faith in himself is stronger than mine." Claude sighed loudly. He was so tired and they would not be getting any sleep tonight. He longed for his bed back at the farmhouse.

"I want to help, Claude. What can I do?"

"Tell me this is the end. That is the only thing that will work."

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

"If you do not loosen up you are going to pull a muscle or worse tear one. This is suppose to help you to relax." Christine made a face at Simon in response to his admonishment. She relaxed out of the stance he had shown her as he smacked her lightly on the rear. He rolled his eyes at her. "Watch me again. It's suppose to flow from one movement to the other. Not jerk..."

"I can't help it. It's almost time." She sat down hard on the exercise mat and looked up at him. "What?" she asked when she saw his look. He was trying to be stern but failing miserably. She could see the expectation in his eyes.

"Look, he didn't call you back. Michael isn't coming over tonight."

"I don't him not too. I just wanted him to come over. That we needed to clear the air once and for all. He'll be here. I know he will."

Simon knelt over her legs on the floor so he was closer to her. "You are a King Kong size pain in my butt."

She smiled coyly at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Yeah, but I'm the cutest one you've ever seen. And I do a great job at making you feel oh so very good about it." She leaned back on her one hand and pushed some hair out of her face with the other, keeping her eyes steady on him.

He closed his eyes for a moment. She had to look at him like that. She was a devil in an angelic disguise and he had fallen hard for the ruse. He snagged her around the waist and they fell against the mat together. "What kind of exercise do you use this room for?" he asked softly.

"Questions, always questions. You just like my answers. How's this one... Whatever kind moves me," she replied. With a low laugh, Simon kissed her. Hungrily she returned the kiss. Rolling to his back, he slipped off her tank top and slid his hands back down her spine to her hips pulling her close. One hand stayed in the small of her back while the other rose up to release the clasp of her bra. He broke the kiss to explore her neck and throat.

"Simon...maybe we shouldn't..."She stammered as she tried to keep her bra in place. Her words ended in a moan as he kissed her again. Hooking a finger in either side of her warm-up pants, he started to work them down. She giggled as they moved back to their original position.

He pulled his head away to look into her eyes. " You started it...Show me you want me to stop then." However that was not what her kiss said. The doorbell rang twice. "Damn it..." He kissed her quick and hard as it rang again. "I'll get it. Get yourself put back together and get that look out of your eyes. No sense in him knowing exactly what we were doing." She scrambled up and dashed into the small powder room.

"Simon! Where's my jacket?"

"On the door, witless!" She could hear him going upstairs and across the floor.

"Witless...yeah by the time I'm done with you later you won't be able to think for a week." Tugging on the jacket, she grabbed the brush from the back of the toilet to untangle anything their 'exercise' had mussed. Then she saw the face and the gun. She reacted with fists and blows only to find herself flung out into the room. Spitting like an angry cat, she went at the intruder only to be grabbed from behind by the throat. Just enough pressure was applied to make her vision spotty.

"Fight harder. You get to watch him die." Two others dressed in black suits dropped Simon's limp body to the floor at her feet. Her assailant savagely pitched her to the mat beside him. She whirled back up to her feet, fists clenched to fight and breathing hard. Two guns trained on Simon's head and one was to her face.

A man wearing a white turtleneck and black trousers held the gun. He reminded her of Simone and that only made her angrier. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jon Jae. I believe you know my son. And I know you knew my wife, Simone. Now Paige, you have one purpose left in life and I expect you to fulfill it. Get me to Michael."

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

Now you're standing there tongue tied...You'd better learn your lesson well
Hide what you have to hide...And tell what you have to tell
You'll see your problems multiplied....If you continually decide
To faithfully pursue...The policy of truth - DM

End of part four...

written by Tammy

Continue on to The Policy of Truth, part five

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