He walked into the apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. His endgame was so close, he could taste it.

 

They had used and abused him for over a decade and now it was his turn. “They will pay.” The green-eyed man vowed. “*All* of them.”

 

One of ‘them’ had already paid, dead by her own hand, or so he thought.  She was the lucky one, what he had in mind for the rest was going to be brutal. Ironically, most thought him dead, but he’d make sure they wished they were dead by the time he was through with them.

 

One by one they would fall.  The only question was who first.

 

They had used and humiliated him for a long time but he never retaliated. He believed in what he was doing and stoically withstood all that they threw at him, waiting for the day he would finally be in charge and able to do things his way. He had been patient. Too patient.

 

They discredited him, humiliated him, stripped him naked for everyone to see his imaginary failings. He would never be in charge now, but he would have the last laugh. They had feared him before for no good reason other than paranoia, greed and thirst for power. They would fear him again, but this time be powerless to stop him.

 

An eye for an eye had become his motto, his mantra, over the four weeks that he had been thought dead. He had allowed himself one week of self-pity and reflection. On the eighth day he decided enough was enough and began planning his revenge. An eye for an eye. Discredit. Humiliate. Destroy.

 

Psychological and physical warfare were nothing new to him. No one was better in the field than him. The only one who could match wits with him was dead. Discredit. Humiliate. Destroy.

 

There were no more obstacles in his way, nothing holding him back.  His son was taken care of.  Section had all but abandoned the boy after Elena’s accidental death.  They left him in foster care with a minimum of protection.  Michael found his son relatively easy and now had his own people watching him.  People who owed Michael their lives and knew what failure to carry out their assignment successfully would mean to them and their families. They were there to make sure Adam stayed safe until it was time for the boy to disappear so he couldn’t be used as a pawn once Michael made himself known.

 

His only remaining concern taken care of, Michael was ready for phase one.

 

********

 

Phase one - Discredit. 

 

 

Michael was confident, not egotistical. And he was patient and persistent. He would work his way up the ladder to Center using Section One. There may have been other Sections and Oversight may have been higher up the ladder, but Section One was Center’s pride and joy, the one held up as an example for all. Destroy the parent by going after the favorite child.

 

Discredit and humiliate The Agency by destroying Section One (to start with, at least).

Easier said than done?  No, not really.

 

Michael had discovered just the opposite in the past three weeks.  He thought Center would have able replacements and contingencies in place as soon as Jones, the real Jones, had made his determinations. Instead, Michael found to his bitter amusement that the new personnel configuration was far from equal to, let alone superior over, the old one.

 

That would be their downfall.

 

It had been easier to tunnel into Section’s systems than originally thought.  They thought him dead, or at the very least far, far away.  Without Birkoff, security wasn’t as tight or as good as it used to be either.  Quinn was good but, if Nikita, a field operative was able to do her job so successfully while impersonating her, well then, enough said.

 

Once in, Michael knew every part of Section better than almost anyone else. They couldn’t keep him out when he was alive, they certainly couldn’t keep him out now that he was ‘dead.’

 

He had installed a few ‘toys’ throughout Section, just like had done two years ago to capture Philo.  This time though, the toys would not be detected and he’d be able to monitor from the comforts of his own home. His spying had already paid off in the form of intel regarding an upcoming Section mission that was supposed to be an easy bag and grab.  A test of the ‘new’ personnel’s skills.

 

What Section didn’t know yet was that the mission would not go according to profile.

 

********

 

Michael tapped into communications and listened in from the sidelines until he heard what he needed.

 

“Team one at first mark.” Came team one leader’s report.

 

“Team two?” O’Brien asked from the van.

 

“Closing in on second mark.” Came the reply.

 

At that, Michael made his approach. The target’s mercenary bodyguards were no match for two of Section’s better teams so Michael was going to even the odds.

 

********

 

“Dunn, report.” O’Brien tried again. Team two’s point man had failed to report in at second mark.  “Stone, take over point.” O’Brien commanded, giving up on his original point man. “Watch out for Dunn.”

 

“Found Dunn.” Stone reported a few minutes later just as the entire compound flooded with bright searchlights exposing the two Section teams to the target’s heavily armed guards.

 

“Abort. Return to van.” O’Brien commanded with more calm than he felt. “How many explosives were planted?” He turned to Quinn.

 

“Enough to blow the compound.” Quinn confirmed.

 

“Do it.” Operations’ angry voice came from the speakers. The compound was supposed to be destroyed after the target was acquired. Now the target would have to be canceled rather than acquired and they’d be lucky to get the team out alive.

 

********

 

“What the hell happened?” O’Brien asked Dunn once the teams returned to the van, miraculously no casualties, only wounded, from the sprint back to the van amidst the heavy artillery fire.

 

“I don’t know.  I was hit with a tranq.  Next thing I know Stone is there.”

 

O’Brien turned back to his screen, knowing there would be hell to pay upon their return. All he could do now was review the tapes and try to figure out how they were compromised by supposedly inferior personnel.

 

As the Section van took off, a lone black-clad figure stood expressionless just outside ground zero as the compound exploded in front of him.

 

Michael had succeeded.  He had had to take out Dunn to ensure Section didn’t infiltrate the compound and reach the target before he took out one of the bodyguards and planted him in front of the patrol to alert the rest of the men that there were ‘intruders.’

 

Fortunately, even though Michael had already deemed him acceptable collateral if necessary, Dunn hadn’t been sacrificed.  He was one of many average operatives floating around the Section, never slotted for anything higher than level three.  Still, it wouldn’t have made his death any easier, just another name to add to the list of lives taken or destroyed thanks to Section politics.

 

********

 

“My office. Now.” Operations’ expected anger was directed towards O’Brien outside Van Access where he and Nikita were waiting for the returning teams.

 

“What the hell happened?” Operations asked as soon as the three arrived in the Perch.

 

“I don’t know.” O’Brien admitted candidly.

 

“You don’t know.” Operations echoed sarcastically, inwardly grimacing.  In the old days, Michael would have had an answer and a new profile to fix the mistake by the time the team had returned. Then again, Michael probably would have fixed the mistake while still on site.

 

“Dunn was taken out of play.”

 

“By who?” Nikita took over. It was her profile that had failed.

 

“One of the guards, I assume.”

 

“Why would the guard tranq him?” Nikita asked.

 

“For interrogation.” O’Brien answered.

 

“Then why was Dunn still there for Stone to find?” Nikita countered.

 

“The guard needed to sound the alarm first.” O’Brien guessed.

 

“They didn’t have radios?” Nikita asked skeptically.

 

“Don’t know.  We didn’t get close enough to confirm.” O’Brien answered. “Quinn was monitoring and there was no communication between the perimeter and interior guards while we were on site.”

 

“I don’t like anomalies or guesses.” Operations spoke up and turned to both underlings, tired of the conversation. “Find out what did happen. I want answers in six hours.”

 

********

 

As ordered, six hours later the exhausted pair of O’Brien and Nikita returned to the Perch with their report.

 

“I’m listening.”  Operations turned around and acknowledged their presence.

 

“There was a third party involved.”  Nikita began.

 

“How many uninvited guests?”  Operations asked.

 

“Unknown.”  Nikita answered.  “Dunn didn’t see anyone and Quinn’s scans were negative.”

 

“Objective?”  Operations asked.

 

“Target termination.  Someone knew we wanted him alive and made sure that didn’t happen.” 

 

“For what reason?”

 

“Self-interest.”  O’Brien joined the conversation.  “Simms concurred.”

 

“So,”  Operations surmised.  “*Someone,* just how many someone’s still unknown, not only knew we were coming, but took us out of play?”

 

“Yes.”  O’Brien grimaced at the little they’d found out.

 

“It wasn’t internal?”

 

“Unlikely.”  Nikita fielded that one. “Team one and two’s activities have been accounted for since the briefing as have Quinn’s and O’Brien’s.”

 

“So that just leaves you and me.”  Operations mused.

 

“That’s right.”  Nikita returned.

 

“Well, then assuming it wasn’t either one of us, is there *anything* useful you can tell me?”

 

“Yes.”  Nikita replied adamantly.  “It won’t happen again.”  Come hell or high water, she’d make sure of it.  There was no way she was letting an unknown enemy run about.  If Section didn’t succeed while she was on ‘probation,’ there was no way Center would allow her to implement the changes she had been promised.

 

Unbeknownst to any of them, Center, Oversight or Section, they were following *someone’s* profile to the letter.

 

********

 

Four weeks later Section breathed a sigh of relief, no other anomalies had caused a mission to go south again like that.  Further research had not unearthed anything new.  The powers that be at Section (currently Operations and Nikita), with no evidence to the contrary, chalked it up to a third party with a grudge against the target.  With each passing day and no new incidents, simms confirming the probability of a singularity rose until the number hit 98 percent where it remained for the past two and a half weeks.

 

Having always relied heavily on simms, Operations and his superiors concluded that 98 percent was as close to certainty as one can get and relaxed their guard a bit.  Of course, simms were only as good as the people who ran them and plugged in the parameters. 

 

There was someone out there who had calculated exactly how long it would be before Section ‘forgot’ the incident and moved on.  Someone who knew them better than they knew themselves.  Protocols, procedures, contingencies; he helped create them.

 

********

 

“Status?”  Nikita requested, standing behind Quinn in comm.

 

“Mission goes live in fifteen.”  Quinn replied, noticing Nikita’s agitation  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”  Nikita sighed, unwilling and unable to explain her unease.

 

“Sure.  Nothing.  Whatever.”  Quinn muttered and turned back to her screen.  Nikita was not exactly her favorite person in Section, not since she impersonated Quinn for her Center mission.

 

“What’s up?”  O’Brien came up to Nikita, wondering why she was in comm as he was supposed to be the one providing tactical oversight on the upcoming mission.

 

“Nothing.”  Nikita smiled, hiding her unease.  “I’ll be in my office.”

 

“Okay.”  O’Brien returned, confused.

 

“Don’t ask.”  Quinn told O’Brien once Nikita was out of earshot, before he had a chance to ask.  “I have no idea what her problem is and frankly, I don’t care.”

 

“Fine.  Whatever.”  O’Brien muttered to himself making a note to talk to Nikita after the mission and find out what was bothering her.

 

********

 

“Charges set.”  O’Brien listened as Leetch, level five operative and team leader on this mission, informed his team, a warning to get clear of the incineration zone.  “Two minutes to detonation.”  Leetch finished and began his own retreat.

 

So far the mission had gone as planned.  Leetch’s team had placed three charges while Leetch himself had placed the last and most significant one with no one inside the arms factory or outside watching the perimeter the wiser. 

 

The Section team had waited until the trade meeting inside was in full swing before setting the charges.  The arms dealer and his buyer thought this new factory (less than a week since production began) was still invisible.  They were about to learn the hard way that it wasn’t. 

 

With all the ‘changes’ in Section, Leetch wasn’t about to trust anyone with his part of the assignment.  The fourth charge was the ‘trigger,’  once detonated it would set off the other three.  Leetch, despite recent events, still prided himself on being one of Michael’s ‘students’ and one of the first lessons he’d ever learned from the Section legend was, ‘if you want something done right, you do it yourself.’ 

 

Adhering to that policy, Leetch had placed himself on point, responsible for the initial detonation.  The factory and all inside were collateral, Operations wanted *everyone* caught in the explosion.

 

Leetch waited until the rest of his team reached the van then spoke into his comm unit while simultaneously pressing down on the detonator, “Charges detonated.”  The light turned green but the expected explosion never came.

 

“What’s the delay?” O’Brien asked from comm, still waiting for satellite confirmation of the explosion.

 

“I don’t know.”  Leetch returned, about to head back out and find out what the problem was.  “Going back out.”

 

“Hold.”  O’Brien countermanded from comm, watching as a DOD satellite picked up movement.  “Abort.”  He ordered gruffly, ticked off that their window was gone and the mission a failure.

 

The movement the satellite had caught was actually the trucks leaving the factory with their cargo.  Blowing the factory now would do them no good, both the buyer and the dealer were almost off site already.

 

“What about the charges?”  Leetch asked, reluctant to give in to failure and a sure harangue upon return to Section.

 

“Forget it.”  O’Brien informed him.  “They’re untraceable, another raid into the perimeter is too risky.”

 

As had happened a month ago, a lone figure stood just outside the ‘playing field’ watching the retreating Section team.  This time he was holding a dismantled explosive.

 

********

 

“Another third party?”  Operations asked his second in command sarcastically as she entered the perch.

 

“No.”  Nikita countered calmly.  “Weapons malfunction.”

 

“Are you sure?”  Operations asked.

 

“Yes.  There was no shadow running and nothing came up on thermal either.”  Nikita answered, still not completely sure that that’s all it was but unwilling to inform Operations of her unease before the mission.  She’d keep her feelings and opinion to herself until and if she proved otherwise.

 

“This isn’t the first time.”  Operations commented, remembering another recent incident in which weapons had malfunctioned.  “Perhaps replacing Walter was premature.”

 

“It was the right decision at the time.”  Nikita replied tightly.

 

“Maybe he’s spent enough time on the Farm and learned his lesson, so to speak.”  Operations countered then jabbed.  “Besides, I seem to recall that his only serious breaches of protocol were on your, Michael or Birkoff’s behalf.  With the other two dead and you in the position you’re in, I don’t see why there would be any further problems.”

 

“I’ll see to it.”  Nikita’s replied resigned, eyes flashing briefly before she slammed her own mask, something she learned from her former mentor, back into place.  She agreed that Walter was still the best.  She’d checked his progress on the Farm and knew he wasn’t happy there, anyway.  And perhaps, if he could forgive her, Nikita would have a friend in Section now after all.

 

********

 

Sitting in his apartment, not too far away, Michael was monitoring Section and smiled at the personnel move scrolling across his screen.

 

********

 

TWO MONTHS LATER IN A PARIS SUBURB

 

 

“He’s doing well.”

 

“Remarkably well, considering his limited resources.”

 

“Yes.  Should I approach him?”

 

“Not yet.  A little more damage is necessary for our plans to proceed smoothly.”

 

“Very well.”  A pause then a diplomatic, if rather impatient question, unusual for the one asking.  “How much more time do you think is needed?”

 

“Not long.”  A thoughtful pause.  “Michael’s humiliation of Section should bring our quarry out of isolation soon.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to approach and gain his allegiance before then?”

 

“No.”  A counter.  “We wouldn’t want to tip our hand too soon.  Don’t worry, our boy is making our job that much easier.  If he keeps this up, Jones will look like a fool for making the decisions he made and won’t have any supporters left.”  A pause.  “And Walter?  Allowing Michael to manipulate his return was a risk.”

 

“Perhaps.”  A smile.  “But I don’t think so.  At this point he trusts Michael more than anyone in Section, including Nikita.”

 

********

 

“This is unacceptable.”  Operations leaned back against the glass, having called in Nikita for a ‘discussion’ after he’d read the monthly report.  “The inefficiency of this organization in the past four months is astounding.”

 

“Sir…”  Nikita began.

 

“Please don’t blame this on a phantom third party.”  Operations interrupted.  “There is nothing whatsoever to prove anything other than flawed strategies, profiles and execution.”  Operations added to his second in command.

 

“I wasn’t about to.”  Nikita returned.  “The original anomaly *was* a singularity.”

 

“And the rest?”

 

“Section One’s overall success rate has not dropped off all that significantly from six months ago.”  Nikita answered. 

 

“I disagree.”  Operations returned.  “While the POS may have not dropped *that* significantly, efficiency is down to an unacceptable level.”

 

“An initial adjustment period was to be expected.”  Nikita defended.

 

“Four months and we’re still not up to par.  That goes beyond an ‘initial adjustment period.’”  Operations countered.

 

“Perhaps Section was ill-prepared to handle a purge.”  Nikita returned.  “Perhaps Section should have trained its personnel better for such a contingency.”

 

“Are you saying the personnel reconfiguration is not up to par?”  Operations eyes flashed dangerously.  “Before you answer that, perhaps *you* should remember who it was that ordered this reconfiguration in the first place.”

 

********

 

“Make the approach.”  A voice commanded into the cell phone.  “The squabbling has begun.  Daddy dearest will have no choice but to make an appearance now.”

 

********

 

Two hours later, the sun still high in the sky, Michael was in his remote location, having abandoned his apartment in favor of this secluded cabin where he could monitor the perimeter for any approaches.

 

Hearing the make-shift but still sate of the art security system go off, Michael put down the glass of milk he was drinking and strode purposely towards his laptop.  Seeing that there was only one ‘warm spot’ Michael picked up his gun and waited to the side of the front window for his visitor to arrive.

 

Watching the sedan pull up to the porch and the driver emerge, Michael sighed in resignation, not completely surprised at having been found by another Section ‘casualty.’  His visitor walked slowly up the three steps, hands in plain sight, knowing full well that they were being observed and any sudden moves would not be in their best interest.

 

Opening the door, gun still at the ready as he was never a trusting man, and this person certainly was not someone who inspired trust to begin with, Michael stood in the doorframe, blocking entry and barely nodded in greeting.

 

“Michael.”  His visitor greeted in return, outwardly not at all perturbed by Michael’s behavior.

 

“Why are you here?”  Michael asked in greeting.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

“Section no longer exists for either one of us.”  Michael returned.  “Without Section we have nothing to discuss.”

 

“I disagree.”  Madeline countered.  “On both points.”

 

“That’s your prerogative.”

“Your chess game with Section...”  Madeline continued unperturbed, ignoring the interruption.

 

“Is none of your concern.”  Michael interjected, not giving Madeline the satisfaction of asking how she knew about it or how she found him.

 

“May I come in anyway?”  Madeline persevered.

 

“If I say no?”

 

 “There will be repercussions.” 

 

“Of course.  There always are.”  Michael replied tiredly, holstered his gun and stepped aside, letting Madeline precede him into the house.

 

“You don’t seem surprised by my reappearance.”  Madeline commented.

 

“Suicide is not in character.”  Michael replied.

 

“You think you know me that well?”  Madeline asked, amused.

 

“As well as you think you know me.”  Michael parried.

 

“Touché.” 

 

“Can I get you anything?”  Michael asked politely, playing host, resigned to the intrusion.

 

“No, thank you.”  Madeline replied sitting down in one of the two armchairs in front of the unlit fireplace.  “Time is of the essence.”

 

“For who?” 

 

“All of us.”  Madeline replied.

 

“Does Operations know you’re alive?”  Michael asked curiously, wanting to know who and what he was up against.

 

“Not yet.”  Madeline, having spent years studying people, Michael included, noted the brief flicker he couldn’t hide.  “That surprises you.”

 

“Yes.”  Michael admitted, realizing his reaction had been observed.

 

“It’s necessary for the time being.”  Madeline explained.  “His behavior in this situation is critical.”

 

“How did you find me?”  Michael changed the subject, knowing he wouldn’t get more out of Madeline about Operations at this time.

 

“Nikita’s allowing your cancellation was not in character.”  Madeline threw Michael’s earlier words back at him.  “And as you were not aware of the plan ahead of time, odds were that you would not take kindly to your forced exit.”

 

“You’re aware of my activities of the last four months?”  Michael asked.

 

“Three, actually.”  Madeline admitted candidly, although she could guess at what he’d done for the first month or so of his forced freedom.  “Monitoring Section’s activities since the evaluation facilitated your being found.”

 

“I see.”  Michael acknowledged, believing Madeline in this and relieved that they hadn’t tracked him to Adam.  “Why not bring me in?  It may be your opportunity to return into the fold.”

 

“If the original intent had been your cancellation then perhaps that option would have been viable.”

 

“Meaning what?”  Michael asked, confused.

 

“The real Mr. Jones didn’t want you cancelled, just out of the way.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked.

 

“You’re a distraction.”  Madeline replied.

 

“To who?”  Michael asked.

 

“His daughter.”

 

“Nikita?”  Michael pieced the puzzle together.

 

“Yes.”  Madeline confirmed then elaborated.  “He wants her to take over.”

 

“Section?”  Michael asked.

 

“No.”  Madeline countered.  “Center.”

 

“Did Nikita know?”  Michael asked the most important question on his mind, knowing how much it would reveal to Madeline, but needing to know just the same.

 

“No.  He did not make himself known until recently.”  Madeline answered.  “And Nikita has a lot to assimilate, I don’t think she understands her father’s motives yet.”

 

“If he had had me canceled, Nikita would not forgive him.  By allowing her to ‘free’ me he gives the illusion that he did her a favor.“  Michael surmised.

 

“Yes.”  Madeline confirmed.  “That’s the conclusion I’ve drawn as well.”

 

“How did you learn all of this?”  Michael asked, absorbing the facts with little fanfare, his years at Section accustoming him to even more unpleasant scenarios than what Madeline had shed light on.

 

“My… associate.”  Madeline answered.

 

“Who?”  Michael asked, several possibilities coming to mind.

 

“That’s something you don’t need to know.”  Madeline replied.  “Yet.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“If you join us, all will be revealed.” 

 

“All?”  Michael asked, a half smile of irony escaping.

 

“Yes.”  Madeline confirmed then added cryptically. “Things will be different this time.”

 

“What motivation would I have for joining in whatever venture you’re planning?”

 

“What are your long term goals for Section?”

 

“There aren’t any.”  Michael replied.

 

“You have nothing more on your agenda than simple revenge?”

 

“Not so simple.”  Michael countered.

 

“Ah, yes.” Madeline returned.  “Section, Oversight, Center.  You want them all to fall.”

 

“Yes.”  Michael replied bluntly.  “Your revelation merely confirms that the organization is too…political…to be effective.”

 

“I disagree.”

 

“Surely you’re not defending the Agency.  You were cast aside even more brutally than I was.”

 

“Defending them, no.”  Madeline returned.  “Merely exploring other options.”

 

“What options?”

 

“Restructuring.”

 

“Restructuring?”  Michael asked.  “At what level?”

 

“The highest.”  Madeline replied unabashedly.

 

“Ambitious.” 

 

“Motivated.”  Madeline countered.  “As you said yourself, the internal politics have gone too far.”

 

“As I remember it, you were…involved… in the internal politics.”  Michael returned with a hint of bitterness.

 

“What I did was for the betterment of Section, nothing more, nothing less.”  Madeline defended.

 

“I disagree.”  Michael echoed Madeline’s earlier words.  “Either way, why should I believe that the games would stop with new leadership?”  Michael asked, not bothering to inquire about Madeline’s profile, knowing she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t had her ‘coup’ all planned out already.

 

Before Madeline could reply her cell phone rang.  Manners dictated waiting for her host’s approval before she let the call interrupt their conversation.  At Michael’s almost imperceptible nod, Madeline picked up her phone and spoke into the receiver.

 

“Yes.”  Madeline greeted.

 

“There’s too much mistrust.  He won’t agree without us laying all the cards on the table.”  The caller responded, Madeline’s audio feed from her phone enabling the caller to listen in on her and Michael’s conversation.

 

“No, he won’t.”  Madeline agreed, keeping any hint of an ‘I told you so’ out of her tone.

 

“Very well.”  The caller returned, resigned.  “Bring him in, rendezvous point alpha.”

 

“Are you certain?” Madeline asked, wanting final confirmation that they were in complete agreement about bringing Michael fully into their plans.

 

“Yes.”  The caller replied without hesitation and then hung up.

 

Madeline turned to Michael after disconnecting her call.  “That was my associate.  We are finally in agreement that the best way to gain your…cooperation…is to meet and discuss our plans.”

 

“Just like that?”  Michael asked skeptically.

 

“Yes.”  Madeline replied then added.  “Granted I haven’t given you any reason to trust me recently, but I *am* nevertheless asking you to do so.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked, the one word asking two questions.

 

“If our plan is to succeed, trust is key.  It’s the reason I came alone, to your territory, rather than send retrieval teams.” 

 

“You still have access to retrieval teams?”  Michael asked, knowing Madeline could be bluffing about her resources.

 

“Not as good as Section’s, but more than enough quantity to compensate for the lack of quality.”  Madeline replied.  “As for the other part of your question, you’ve earned more than just revenge and it’s about time you took the opportunity.”

 

“Since when have you been a proponent of my rise in the chain of command?”

 

“Since you’ve shown that you didn’t want a ‘promotion’ until those in command were ready to give it to you.”  Madeline replied candidly.

 

“Is that what this is?”  Michael asked.  “A promotion?”

 

“No.”  Madeline countered.  “A partnership.”

 

“A partnership.”  Michael echoed, not quite believing the older woman, but interested enough to listen. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Let’s go.”  Michael surprised Madeline.  The truth of the matter was that he’d done what he’d set out to do, Section was in imminent danger of being disenfranchised, their performance at unacceptable levels.  Section One was the strongest link in the chain, if it fell the rest of the organization would soon follow, even without his ‘help.’

 

Madeline was correct in one of her assumptions.  Other than destroying Section and keeping Adam out of harm’s way, Michael didn’t have any long term plans.  He was curious as to what Madeline had in mind for him. 

 

“Fine.” Madeline returned, standing.

 

On their way out, Michael shrugged on his leather jacket, covering his shoulder holster.  Ever since his early days in Section, unless he was on a mission that necessitated otherwise, he never went anywhere unarmed.

 

If this *did* turn out be a trap, Michael would be ready.  He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, the rest didn’t matter.  The ride was short and quiet, only two words spoken during the entire trip.  Michael had pulled out his own cell phone, punched in a long series of numbers then spoke only two words.  “Be ready.” 

 

Those two words had been a signal for his men to be ready to take Adam, the possibility of ‘trouble’ a reality.  Michael knew that if something were to happen at this ‘meeting’ his son would still be safe.  The men responsible for his child’s safety wouldn’t let him down.  They couldn’t, the consequences of failure, regardless of Michael’s continued existence, were too high.  Michael’s contingencies had included provisions for his own death.

 

********

 

After forty minutes on the road, Madeline pulled to a stop.  Michael was surprised at their destination, an upper scale restaurant, complete with valet parking.

 

Walking inside, Michael noticed the privacy afforded each of the tables and booths and the relative emptiness of the restaurant, the patrons mostly business men and women engaged in private meetings.

 

Madeline did not wait to be seated, but walked confidently towards one of the smaller booths towards the left side of the restaurant, an obvious sign that she had been here enough times to be familiar with the restaurant and its staff.

 

Following behind and scanning his surroundings, Michael arrived at their booth and was surprised by who was already seated and waiting.

 

“Michael.”  The man stood, in deference to etiquette and greeted in his clipped British accent.

 

“George.”  Michael greeted in return, keeping his surprise out of his voice and demeanor.

 

“Please, sit down.”  George invited politely.

 

Madeline entered the booth first, sliding in elegantly.  Michael hesitated momentarily before sliding in himself, noting with mild amusement the fact that they were in a booth rather than at a table where there would inevitably be someone at the head.  It didn’t escape his notice either that Madeline slid in first, giving him the illusion, at least, that the two weren’t ‘surrounding’ him.

 

“Would anyone care for a drink?”  The waiter, who’d noticed Madeline and Michael’s entrance, came and asked once everyone was seated.

 

“No, thank you.”  George replied.  “We’d prefer not to be disturbed.”  He continued, pulling out several large bills from his wallet and handing them to the waiter.

 

“Yes, of course, sir.”  The waiter bowed discreetly, pocketing the money.  This wasn’t that unusual a request from some of their patrons.  The pay was excellent so the personnel just kept their mouths shut and divided up the ‘tips.’

 

“How long have you been working together?”  Michael asked vaguely, not directing his question to either one specifically, curious as to who would answer, thereby telling him much about their ‘association.’

 

After a brief but significant glance that conveyed to Michael that the two were indeed equal partners in whatever venture they were involved in, Madeline answered.  “Since the mission against Red Cell’s Director.” 

 

They had decided it was best that Madeline fielded the initial questions, if possible.  Her long and closer association would inevitably, or so they thought, make Michael more comfortable.

 

“Operations’ lack of confidence.”  Michael guessed.  “You needed insurance.”

 

“Yes.”  Madeline admitted candidly. 

 

“Why Madeline?”  Michael turned to George.  He appreciateed Madeline’s reasoning for going to George but, as he’d understood it, the Englishman wasn’t ‘fond’ of either of Sections’ leaders.  So, why team up with her as opposed to someone new?

 

“Better the devil you know.”  George smiled then added seriously.  “While we may disagree on methodology, Madeline and I have always shared a common goal – the continued survival and success of the Agency. The intel I gleaned from the neuro-scrapes I ordered confirmed our mutual agenda and the rightness of the decision.”

 

“And the means?”

 

“Is still whatever it takes.”  Madeline answered this time.  “The only difference is a compromise amongst ourselves.”

 

“Why now?”  Michael asked.  His former superiors were being unusually open and cooperative and Michael was taking full advantage as long as they let him.

 

“As head of Oversight,”  George began.  “I was privy to most of what went on in Center. Mr. Jones, as you know him, and I used to be fairly close as well.”

 

“What happened?”  Michael asked dutifully.

 

“I disagreed with his choice of successor and the fact that Veytross, his *computer* had become his most trusted advisor.”  George answered.

 

“A computer?” Michael asked, his mind picturing ‘Alex’ from the movie Wargames.

 

“Yes.”  George sighed.  “I tried to convince Phillip, Mr. Jones, of the folly of believing in machinery over human beings.  I also tried to convince him that his daughter was not ready for the future he envisioned for her.”

 

“You didn’t succeed.”  Michael surmised.

 

“No.”  George sighed, suddenly looking every one of his 60 some-odd-years.  “My strenuous arguing brought us to an impasse.  As a ‘reward’ for my otherwise exemplary years of service, I was given another chance, a choice, actually.”

 

“Which was?”  Michael asked even though he could guess at the answer.

 

“Go along or retire.”  George replied with a hint of bitterness.

 

“You found a third option.”  Michael concluded, wanting to see the reaction, needing to know if he was about to be asked to jump into bed with the kind of people he’d spent a few years following and then almost half his life fighting.  “Red Cell.”

 

“Not in the way you think.”  Madeline was quick to assure, knowing that regardless of his feelings towards the Agency, jumping into bed with Red Cell or any other terrorist organization was not something Michael would even consider.  “There was a leak from Oversight, yes.  Greg Hillinger had taken it upon himself to ‘help’ discredit Section.  It’s why George had allowed his cancellation.”

 

“However,”  George picked up the conversation.  “A little bit of untraceable tampering and a few well placed files convinced Jones that *I* was the leak.”

 

“Plausible pay-back for Jones’ forcing your cooperation.”  Michael deduced as another thought struck him.  “Jason tunneled in.”

 

“Yes.”  Madeline confirmed.

 

“How long has he been working for you?” 

 

“Since just after his recruitment.”  George fielded that one. 

 

“A clean exit scenario enabling you to work undetected from the outside.”  Michael continued to piece the puzzle together.

 

“Yes.”  George replied, pleased to see Michael catching on so quickly.

 

“Your exit wasn’t similarly planned.”  Michael turned to Madeline, having his own suspicions, but wanting them confirmed.

 

“No.  It would have made things easier had I remained in Section.”  Madeline admitted. “But Jones suspected at the very least a truce, if not an outright alliance with George.”

 

“He ordered your cancelation as a precaution.”

 

“Yes.”  Madeline confirmed.  “He wasn’t taking any chances.”

 

“Why are you telling me all of this?”  Michael asked after a moment of information assimilation, even though he’d already guessed the answer.

 

“The Agency needs new leadership and you should be a part of it.”  Madeline answered.

 

“You want my help with a coup.”  Michael guessed.

 

“Actually your actions over the last three months have already laid the groundwork for us.”  George returned.  “And it’s not a violent coup we’re after.”

 

“The Agency was falling apart anyway.  Your games with Section One merely moved up the timetable.”  Madeline added.

 

“Our goal is to retire, not overthrow, the old leadership.”  George finished.

 

“A bloodless revolution.”  Michael summarized then asked the question that had been on his mind since Madeline’s arrival at his house.  “Why would I side with you?”

 

“Why would I side with you?”  Michael asked.

 

“It’s your way back in.”  Madeline replied, confident she knew what Michael sought.

 

“Assuming that’s what I want.”  Michael countered.

 

“You don’t?”  George asked skeptically.

 

“I trust Madeline even less than I trust you.”  Michael evaded the question then asked another one of his own, guessing where in the organization they wanted him. “Even if I believed your motives were altruistic, I was someone’s puppet for 15 years, I won’t do it anymore.”

 

“Michael…”  George began, only to be cut off by Madeline.

 

“While I may regret certain specific actions taken against you, on the whole, they helped bring you as far as you’ve come.”

 

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”  Michael asked, sadly realizing that the two in front of him actually believed what they’d done to him and countless others was justified.

 

“Would you rather be dead?”  Madeline asked, not realizing she was echoing Michael’s words to someone else a long time ago.

 

“Remember who it was that issued your cancelation orders.”  George added.  “And who it was that was willing to promote you to a position that would allow you a chance to make a difference.”

 

“I know you still believe the fight is still worth fighting.”  Madeline picked up.  “Otherwise you would be long gone rather than trying to destroy what you’d come to believe had become as malevolent as the evil it had been fighting.”

 

“Perhaps the fight is still a worthy one.”  Michael conceded with a tired sigh, getting up to leave.  “You can find others to help you rebuild from the ashes.  I’ve given enough.”

 

“What if you were one of the ones in charge of the rebuilding?”  George fired a final shot.

 

“In charge?”  Michael allowed a small, ironic smile to grace his lips.  “I don’t see either one of you giving up control voluntarily.”

 

“What do you have to lose by hearing the rest of it?”  George asked in return.

 

“Freedom.”  Michael replied succinctly, turning to leave as he waited for the proverbial shoe to drop. 

 

“Michael.”  Madeline called him back quietly, guessing his thoughts.

 

‘Here it comes.’ Michael mused bitterly. ‘Promises and threats.’

 

“If you walk out now, you’ll regret it later.”  Madeline promised and Michael turned to face her and George, his features set in stone.

 

“Is that a threat?”  Michael asked ominously.

 

“No.”  Madeline replied then clarified.  “The only regret will be yours. Regardless of the outcome of this meeting, there will be no consequences.”

”Really?”  Michael asked skeptically.

 

“I rarely give my word.  But when I do, I don’t go back on it.”  Madeline returned while George remained silent.  They had agreed that Madeline would have to be the one to convince Michael of their sincerity.  He knew George only distantly, certainly not well enough to hitch his future to on with just his word.

 

“I know.”  Michael conceded.  This was one trait he and Madeline had in common and both knew the statement to be true about the other.

 

“I’m giving you my word.  Your cooperation and participation is strictly voluntary. No repercussions.”

 

“I’m listening.”  Michael sighed and sat back down, intrigued by Madeline’s approach and candor.

 

“Madeline and I share a common liability.”  George admitted candidly, surprising Michael.  “In an effort to keep our job, we lost sight *of* the job.  We’ve both found ourselves committing acts that used to be anathema.  Furthermore, change is difficult, the mind-set too ingrained.”

 

“Solution?” Michael asked in his usual economy of words.

 

“An equal partnership.”  George answered.  “With someone who doesn’t share the same liability.”

 

“A conscience.”  Michael surmised, half amused by the irony. 

 

“Co-leadership of Center.”  George countered bluntly, finally laying their cards on the table.

 

“How equal?”  Michael asked, his features unreadable despite his surprise. “A triumvirate?”

 

“No.”  George replied.  “I’d stay in Oversight.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked, this time his surprise evident.

 

“I’m too old to start over, especially if it means a new mind-set.”  George sighed tiredly, the lines in his face suddenly more prominent.  “Even Oversight would be temporary, only long enough to find and train a suitable replacement.”

 

“Just Madeline and me, no one else?”  Michael asked.

 

“That’s right.”  George confirmed.

 

“Who would have final say?”  Michael asked, still absorbing George’s revelations.  Even co-leaders needed a final decision maker when compromises couldn’t be reached, otherwise they’d go around in circles.

 

“You would.”  George replied.  He and Madeline had predetermined who would answer that question when it came up.  George had had higher authority in the organization so it was best coming from him.

 

“Why?” Michael asked, trying to figure out if they were sincere or just trying to placate him and reel him in.

 

George looked to Madeline, letting her answer so Michael can judge her sincerity for himself.  “Nothing has changed since your stint in the Perch.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“If we’re going to succeed we need to maximize our strengths.”  Madeline elaborated.  “Mine, regardless of the specific environment, is still providing objective counsel to the one in charge.”

 

“As I recall, you didn’t… respond…well to my going against your advice.”  Michael countered, recalling that the whole Bergomi affair had been one of the catalysts for Oversight and Section One’s ‘split.’  Madeline and George had obviously worked out their differences, but where did that leave him?  “Why would now be any different?”

 

“I was looking out for Section’s best interest, which at the time necessitated status quo on Bergomi.”

 

“He was in Operations’ pocket.”  Michael guessed. 

 

“Yes.”  Madeline admitted.

 

“What else?”  Michael asked, knowing there had to be more to it than that.  The backlash had been too strong and he wanted to know why.

 

“Operations had lost control over you and I lost the ability to read you.  Bergomi just reinforced that.”  Madeline finally admitted, realizing she had little choice if this partnership was going to get off the ground, let alone work.  “We couldn’t be sure that you weren’t building your own power base.”

 

“You really believed I wanted the Perch over your dead bodies, so to speak?”

 

“It was a good possibility, yes.”  Madeline confirmed.  “As I said you were unreadable. The penalties had to be distracting enough that it didn’t matter what your intentions were.  In hindsight, I admit, we carried it too far, my loyalty to Paul overriding my loyalty to the organization.” 

 

“That’s why you haven’t included Operations in your plans.”

 

“His evaluation by Center was not without merit.”  George re-entered the conversation.  “But intel indicates that he understood where he went wrong and is trying to correct the ‘problem.’  If he’s willing to accept and cooperate with the new regime and continues his current conduct, my hope is that he *will* be my replacement when the time comes.”

 

“What other personnel do you have long range plans for?”  Michael asked, purposely  vague.

 

“You want to know about Nikita.”  Madeline stated knowingly.

 

“Yes.”  Michael admitted.

 

Madeline and George exchanged glances before he answered the question.  “If she can come to terms with the removal of her father from power and our role in it, we’d prefer to keep her in Section.”

 

“In what capacity?”  Michael was curious.

 

“As Paul’s second.  She’s already there and doing an adequate job, considering the circumstances.”  George paused.  “Eventually, the Perch.  However, Madeline and I thought it best that the ultimate decision be yours.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’ll know best if Nikita staying in the organization is a viable option.”  George admitted.  “While she has the ability, the desire to stay is in question.  As is *your* desire to ‘keep’ her here.”

 

“You set her free once.”  Madeline added.  “This time, with Center resources, successfully living on the outside would be far more realistic.”

 

“You knew?”  Michael asked, curious.  There was no need to deny his actions of four years ago any longer.  “Or you guessed?”

 

“I knew.” Madeline replied. 

 

“But Operations didn’t.”  Michael reasoned.

 

“No.”  Madeline confirmed.  “He never knew.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked, wanting to know why Madeline had kept quiet.  His actions had been treasonous.

 

“It wouldn’t have served Section’s purpose.”  Madeline answered candidly.  “We were still recovering from the war with Red Cell and we couldn’t afford to lose you.  Nikita however, had become a danger to not only herself, but to you and Section as well.”

 

“Why not just cancel her then, rather than the abeyance mission?”

 

“To Section, it didn’t really matter whether Nikita was dead or…out of reach.  The risk factor was low.  She didn’t know enough about Section at the time to cause significant damage even if captured.”  Madeline replied, her words carefully chosen.  “Besides, the potential was still there.  I thought that a dose of the ‘real world’ would help her realize where she belonged.”

 

“Why did you come to Van Access?”  Michael asked, not letting go of the past until all the pieces fit together.

 

“I could still read you then.”  A half smile quirked Madeline’s lips.  “I had to be sure you were prepared.  From your behavior in the corridor I knew you were.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“By then it was too late to sever the bond permanently without considerably impacting your performance.”  Madeline answered.  “Nikita on the outside was an acceptable alternative.  You would monitor from afar, assure her continued freedom and keep your performance level steady so as to not arouse suspicion.”

 

“Section One was still under very close scrutiny because of the recent heavy loss of personnel.”  George added, elaborating on he had been too ‘important’ to cancel.  “Two level five operatives were lost during the war, they couldn’t afford to lose a third.”

 

“Things did not turn out as expected.”  Madeline resumed.  “But the endgame was eventually achieved.”

 

“Of course.” Michael retuned, the endgame was the only thing that mattered.  He suspected Madeline knew ever since her words at the briefing table shortly before he found Nikita, or rather she had found him. 

 

“Any other questions?”  George asked.

 

Michael had several, but he’d revealed more than enough by the few he’d already asked.  Hence, he asked the they wanted to hear, his wording purposeful.  “What’s our plan?”

 

“Simple, really.”  George answered.  “You did most of the legwork for us already.”

 

“Discredit the Section without backtracking it to you.”  Michael guessed.

 

“Yes.”  George confirmed.  “Your actions have already caused Mr. Jones to come out of hibernation.  Section’s numbers have declined to the point of chaos.  Jones knows it’s only a matter of time before the terrorist factions take advantage and he can’t afford that.  If Section One goes down, so does Center.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked.  He knew that discrediting Section would go a long way towards dismantling the Agency, but he didn’t think his end game was that close.

 

“Section One always led the battle for Center and has always been the one held up to the light for inspection.”  George explained.  “Jones designed it that way to minimize inter-Section fighting.  One was the undisputed leader and was given the most serious tasks from Center and Oversight.”

 

“If Section One fails, Jones’ judgment and design becomes suspect.”  Madeline added.  “The hierarchy is his responsibility.  If they fail, so does he.”

 

The ringing of a cell phone momentarily interrupted the conversation as George reached into his pocket to answer it.  “Yes.” A slight pause.   “Very good. Continue surveillance.”  George hung up then turned to his companions with a smile of satisfaction.  “Jones has arrived in Section One.”

 

“What now?”  Michael asked.

 

“You and Madeline do what you do best.”  George replied.  “Jones is going to lend his considerable skills and knowledge to Section to increase their efficiency and success rate before the numbers alarm his colleagues.  Jones runs the Agency but he does have equals he must answer to.” 

 

“I know.”  Michael replied, surprising the other two with his knowledge.  “There’s a consortium of five individuals who run covert operations throughout the globe.  Due to its size and widespread bases, the Agency is Jones’ only responsibility.  The other four control the rest.”

 

“Exactly.”  George marveled, while Madeline remained silent.  “It appears we’ve underestimated you as well.  Your sources and contacts are far more reaching and impressive than expected.”

 

“I had fifteen years to develop them.”  Michael countered modestly.

 

“True.”  George sighed, Michael’s statement reminding him of just how long he’d been in the ‘game’ himself, then shook off his momentarily melancholy.  “As I was saying, Jones is in Section.  With Section failing, he will add his voice to the command structure.”

 

“Add?”  Michael asked, surprised.  “Not take over?”

 

“He’s confident but not arrogant.  He knows that Paul and Nikita have more experience in the day to day dealings with their enemies.  He won’t discount that.”  George replied then pulled out a PDA and slid it across the table towards Michael. 

 

Michael barely spared a glance at the PDA before refocusing on George.  “So?” 

 

“Madeline knows Paul, you know Nikita.”  George answered then nodded at the PDA.  “That contains everything I know about Jones.  Madeline was the best Psych Op and profiler in the organization.  You were the best strategist and tactician.  Between the two of you, you should be able to outmaneuver Section and ensure their continued downward spiral.”

 

“For how long?”  Michael asked.

 

“Six weeks, eight at most.”  Madeline replied as the estimate had been hers.  “By then Jones’ colleagues will be amenable to a change.”

 

“Jason will do what he can to help, but don’t count on it.”  George added.  “Everyone will be under close scrutiny and he knows not to risk his cover.”

 

“We’ll be fine.”  Michael countered confidently.

 

“I’m sure you will.”  George smiled. “Any preliminary suggestions?”

 

“Yes.”  Michael replied.  “Have Jason work on Walter.  He’d be a good ally and an asset once the endgame is achieved.”

 

“That’s been initiated.”  Madeline smiled as she had had similar thoughts herself.  “Although I had thought you…facilitated… his transfer back to Section because he was already on your side.”

 

“It was a goal, yes.”  Michael admitted.  “But there had been no need to involve him yet.”

 

“Yes, you were doing quite well on your own.”  Madeline conceded.  “But the stakes are higher now, perhaps you should make an approach.” 

 

“Perhaps.  But I would prefer a preliminary report from Jason first.  Walter’s loyalties may be divided.”  Michael returned, not having to specify to who Walter might still be loyal to in Section.  “The more intel Jason supplies, the better I’ll be able to formulate an approach.”

 

“I’ll see to it.”  George nodded.  “You’ll have a report within forty-eight hours.”

 

“Fine.” 

 

“Excellent.”  George stated.  “The only matter left for this meeting is living arrangements for the next two months or so.  It would be best if we all stayed close.”

 

“What did you have in mind?”  Michael asked.

 

“An old friend has a chateau nearby.  Spacious and very private.  All the equipment we’ll need.”

 

“Adrian?”  Michael guessed and was rewarded with twin looks of surprise from his new partners.

 

“I didn’t think you would be so incautious.”  George finally answered.

 

“He’s testing the verity of our alliance.”  Madeline countered, looking directly at Michael. 

 

“Yes.”  Michael confirmed Madeline’s analysis then turned to George.  “Adrian was missing.  You had the resources to find her.”

 

“I *was* close.”  George admitted.  “But she regained her memory and found me first.”

 

“You personally picked her up.”  Michael commented.  “Why?”

 

“I wanted whoever came looking to know the game was over.”  George replied.  “You nearly gave the caretaker a heart attack when you went to confirm Adrian’s absence.”

 

“The gardener was on your payroll.”  Michael guessed, remembering the ‘scene.’

 

“Yes.”  George confirmed.  “I wanted to see who came looking.”

 

“And Section’s use of the Gelman process?”  Michael asked curiously.

 

“I did not agree with Adrian’s attempt at a coup.”  George explained.  “Under the circumstances, considering our strained relations at the time, Madeline’s only option was convincing Paul to experiment rather than cancel.”

 

“It was a calculated risk.  But I had confidence in Adrian’s ability to resist.”  Madeline added.  “Luckily for all of us, I was right.”

 

“All of us?”  Michael asked.

 

“Unlike Madeline, I wasn’t entirely convinced you were the right one for the job.”  George admitted.  “Adrian’s endorsement persuaded me.”

 

“Why weren’t you convinced?”  Curiosity got the better of Michael.

 

“You were Paul’s protégé for quite a number of years.  *I* didn’t see anything to make me believe you weren’t simply a younger version.  No less ruthless or power hungry.  Madeline wasn’t able to convince me otherwise.”  George answered candidly.

 

“Adrian told you about helicopter.”  Michael surmised.

 

“Yes, and a few other things.”  George paused.  “I never did thank you for that.”

 

“It’s not necessary.  It was as much for my own survival as for yours.”  Michael paused, about to ask another question.

 

“And before you ask,”  George forestalled.  “The belief that you, and you alone, know what’s best for the organization and the world at large sometimes makes a good man, or woman, do foolish things. There were regrettable actions and consequences on both sides of the battle between myself and Section One.”

 

“But you’ve learned better?”  Michael asked, with a hint of humor.

 

“Something like that.”  Madeline smiled.

 

“Yes.”  George continued soberly.  “But, it’s a lesson Jones never learned and probably never will.”

 

********

 

Even Madeline hadn’t been able to predict how swiftly things would develop.  The team of Michael and Madeline, with a healthy dose of George and a smaller dose of Adrian  thrown in had quickly become a lethal combination for Jones and his subordinates. 

 

George’s input had been invaluable.  The years he’d spent working under Jones had taught George quite a bit about the man, not the least of which were his strengths and weaknesses.  While Adrian preferred to leave it to what she referred to as the ‘next generation’ most of the time, she contributed a few of her own insights into her former boss as well as several into Nikita and Paul.

 

All told they had developed into a very formidable, well oiled machine.  In the month since their alliance officially began the devastation they had left in their wake was astonishing in its subtlety. 

 

They had agreed early on that outright sabotage would be too suspicious.  They had to manipulate the profiles more precisely, make Section’s failings appear ‘natural,’ borne of inadequate personnel.  In the past month with Madeline’s profiling and strategy genius combined with Michael’s tactical brilliance they had successfully walked that fine line. While their plans essentially had Michael running tactical from the field, he did offer a few ‘suggestions’ that Madeline unreservedly incorporated into her profiles. 

 

Of course, the four of them couldn’t do it all on their own.  Over the years Michael had cultivated many contacts and sources that Section never knew about.  Because Michael would be the one going into the field with these men and women, George and Madeline had readily agreed to bow to his judgment on their skills and reliability. 

 

Some of Michael’s new team were finally repaying the debts they owed him.  Some had amassed debts that they could never hope to repay, settling for doing the odd favor for him when called upon.  Others expected to get paid for their services, but they had been culled from Michael’s personal list: a short list of people whose loyalty and sense of honor would prevent them from simply selling Michael and his colleagues out to the highest bidder. 

 

Because time was of the essence, Michael also made sure to select people who’d either gel almost instantly or be able to do their job regardless of their feelings about their teammates.  All in all Michael had gathered a dozen men and women who fit the bill. Some were used more, some less. 

 

It had taken Michael less than seventy two hours to assemble his team.  In the four weeks since, they had interfered with fifteen separate Section One missions.  The type of interference differed from mission to mission ensuring no pattern would be uncovered. 

 

Out of the fifteen missions, five were profiled by Nikita, five by Jones and the last five by their new head profiler.  A nice even split, no single target.  Four of the teams had been led by Nikita, five by O’Brien, three by an experienced level five operative and the other three by a recently promoted level five operative.  Another fairly even split.

 

The mission failures varied as well.  A few didn’t achieve closure, others achieved the endgame but not *all* the desired objectives.  Some had more losses than they should have, still others had to be aborted due to unforeseen anomalies or faulty intel.  One mission failure was blamed on equipment after which an outraged Walter was heard muttering loudly about the new explosives he’d been told to use and how unreliable they were compared to the old ones.

 

As good as these teams were, none of them could compare to their opponents.  Madeline was unmatched in profiling and no one could change tactical in mid mission like Michael could.  Problems that were compensated for in the field in the ‘old days’ became insurmountable without the ‘old leadership.’

 

Less than five weeks after they’d begun, George walked into the chateau, a smile on his face.  Michael hadn’t even been back for an hour from a four man mission that had taken care of the latest Section mission.

 

“We’ve done it.”  George announced.  “A meeting with all three of us has been requested.”

 

********

 

While Madeline and Michael had been working on discrediting Section, George had been quietly approaching the other four members of the consortium that Jones belonged to.  He had made his first approach even before Jones had shown himself to Section.  The clandestine meeting was held at an altitude of 35,000 feet, in a private airplane that had no markings and was even more heavily guarded than the famous Air Force One.  George had smiled to himself upon boarding the airplane.  If they didn’t like what he had to say, all they had to do was throw him out.

 

As pre-arranged with Madeline, George simply proved his innocence of the conspiracy charges against him.  He purposely waited for the inevitable question to be asked, rather than volunteer the information.

 

When the question of “why?” did come, George made sure that he came across as reluctant to answer and speak ill of his former boss.  But he did indicate that the situation was perhaps for the best, he and Jones had been of ‘contrary’ opinions of late and that Oversight would best be served by someone who agreed more with the boss’ way of doing things.

 

Of course George did mention that it had been Madeline who had aided his exit in exchange for helping her get ‘settled’ when her time in Section was up.  George had ‘admitted’ that Madeline ‘confided’ in him that she had the feeling that it would be sooner rather than later because she had been increasingly wary of the goings on in Section One and the Agency in general.

 

Admitting their deception and continued existence to the consortium, or rather Council as they preferred, had been a calculated risk.  However, Madeline and George had come to the conclusion that it was their best chance.  The danger of being canceled for the deception and escape was minimal.  They had both entered the Agency voluntarily, long before Paul had instituted the prison recruit system.  Back then retirement wasn’t just a euphemism for something more sinister, but rather a real pot of gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow.

 

Even after all the changes in the organization, the various leaders throughout the Agency were still entitled to, unless found guilty of crimes against the Agency, more than just a bullet to the head when their services were no longer required.

 

George apologized for their actions, but reminded the Council of their policy.  George, they were ready to forgive once he proved his innocence.  Madeline, however was a different matter.  The oldest (by experience not age) member of the four asked George why she should be allowed to remain alive.  The order for cancelation had been handed down from Jones and the Council had a long standing agreement not to interfere with each others’ organizations unless disaster was imminent.

 

Of course, that was just the opening George had wanted.  He explained that he did not agree with Jones’ evaluation of Madeline.  Coming from George, a non-supporter of Section’s regime for quite a while, the comment interested all four council members and George was told to elaborate.  And elaborate he did.  By the end of the impromptu interview, the Council had agreed to consider the entire matter, but George and Madeline should stay close, just in case.

 

Ten days later, just days after their first successful ‘interferences’ of Section missions, George was ‘asked’ to meet with the four council members at a private airstrip.  Deciding that not being asked to include Madeline in the meeting bade well for them, George was more relaxed this time (not that he’d shown his trepidation the first time around).

 

The outcome of the second meeting was favorable.  The Council had quietly been looking into the state of the Agency’s affairs and were a bit ‘concerned.’  They now wanted George’s take on the situation.  Taking care to be as diplomatic and vague as possible, George made a few suggestions about personnel and policies.

 

Liking what they heard, the Council asked George to come up with an outline for possible reconfiguration and to include himself, Madeline and anyone else he saw fit into it.  They gave him two weeks.

 

In those two weeks, George worked just as hard as Madeline and Michael.  With some help from Adrian, who had changed her mind and decided to participate more actively, and a minimal amount of input from both Madeline and Michael (busy with their own agendas), George had written a full report rather than just an outline.

 

Right on schedule, George got another phone call to meet at another private airstrip.  This time though, there was no plane ride.  All George did at this third meeting was drop off the report to the waiting Council members who then flew off.  The only thing George was told was that they would be in touch.

 

Given the furious pace of the past month and the expectedness of the outcome, the impending meeting was beginning to seem almost anticlimactic.  The threesome had known this was coming, had worked as close to around the clock as humanly possible to ensure it.  So when George made his announcement, it was more of a relief than a celebration.

 

********

 

“We’ve done it.”  George announced.  “A meeting with all three of us has been requested.”

 

Although the call for the meeting was expected, there was still reason for concern for the triumvirate.  It was obvious that both George and Madeline were off the proverbial chopping block.  Michael was another matter.  The threesome, was of course once again prepared. 

 

George had purposely not mentioned Michael in his previous meetings with the Council.  George had argued that defending his and Madeline’s continued existence had been dangerous enough.  It wouldn’t do to add another name to the list of those coming back from the dead.  George’s reasoning though had been twofold.  The second being that in the beginning Michael’s long-term participation had not been assured so there was no reason to bring him up. But even after he threw in with them for the long-haul, George had told Michael that he still felt it best to keep silent.

 

If things did not go as planned and he and Madeline were canceled, George wanted Michael and Adrian to continue their ‘fight’ to save the Agency from a man who, in George’s opinion, was not fit to run it anymore.  George had spent too many years fighting for the cause for it fall, regardless of whether or not he was around to see it happen.  He had no doubt that Michael would continue the fight, if only to ‘rescue’ Nikita.

 

Madeline was in complete agreement with George and Michael reluctantly went along.  Michael was reluctant because he was concerned that the true reason for not disclosing his participation to the Council was not the reason George had given. 

 

The profile, as George and Madeline had outlined it, called for Michael to first be introduced in George’s report to the Council.  When confronted about yet another Section casualty that really wasn’t George and Madeline would speak up on his behalf, much as George had done for Madeline in his first meeting.

 

Michael’s concern was that he was being set up by his two partners as a sacrificial lamb to the Council.  Perhaps they would use him to undermine Section and then bring him in front of the Council as the epitome of what was wrong with Section. 

 

The possibility of such a scenario invaded Michael’s thoughts every time he went out in the ‘field’ with his team and it tempted him to just leave it all behind.  Two things kept him there, though.

 

Realistically, the only way to ensure Adam’s continued safety was to stay in the Agency.  What kind of a life could his son have on the outside?  Michael was damned whichever way it went. 

 

It was only a matter of time before others in the ‘community’ discovered he was alive and he became a marked man.  There were many who would try to get information out of him and just as many who would be content just to kill him for revenge. 

 

If Michael took Adam and ran, he’d be subjecting his son to years on the run, always looking over their shoulder for someone with a gun.  If he left Adam in foster care, what guarantee did he have that the boy wouldn’t be found and used against him to ensure Michael’s cooperation? 

 

No, Adam’s best chances for a long and healthy life was Michael’s membership in the anti-terrorist hierarchy.  Continued membership was the most Michael felt he could do for a child that, no matter what, would have to live with the sins of his father hanging over him. 

 

Michael’s other reason for staying was of course, Nikita.  Whether she stayed in Section when all was said and done didn’t matter.  Either way he’d best be able to protect her from the inside.

 

Still, Michael was wary of trusting his partners.  Will they or won’t they?  It had been Adrian who had eased his mind enough so that Michael was able to relegate his fears to his dreams instead of letting them invade his thoughts during the day and on ‘missions.’

 

When the three conspirators finally came before the council for their ‘interview’ Michael got his answer.

 

********

 

This time the meeting was being held in the private boardroom in the luxurious penthouse of a five star hotel.  Again, there were four council members in attendance.  Just like Jones, they were addressed by their last names. 

 

Smith was the most senior member of the council, had been there even longer than Jones. 

 

Next came Phelps, he’d been on the council for nearly fifteen years, having replaced his predecessor upon the man’s ‘exile.’ It had been the only time in the Council’s history that a member had been ousted. 

 

Then Clemens, the only female member of the five.  She’d been on the council for just over ten years, replacing her predecessor when he decided to retire. 

 

Finally, the most junior member of the council, Williams, he’d been on the council for seven years, replacing another member who died after a long bout with illness.

 

As expected, George’s personnel roster was the first topic of conversation, especially who he’d chosen to head Center, thereby becoming the newest member of the council, gaining the position over the figurative dead body of Jones.

 

The first question came predictably from Smith.  Why didn’t George put *himself* as the head of Center.  George explained just as he had to Adrian and Madeline all those months ago and then Michael more recently.  In a nutshell, he wanted to retire, not start over.

 

Next of course, came the question of his choice of Jones’ replacement.  Before they discussed anything further about George’s selections, the Council wanted to know why Michael was back from the dead.  Phelps was the one to ask how it was that Michael was still alive.  The last they’d heard Michael had died on an abeyance mission.

 

Michael had by this time already figured out that George and Madeline were not going to sell him out so he stuck to their script.

 

“Yes. I asked for the abeyance mission.”  Michael answered in response to Smith’s question.  He, Madeline and George were sitting on one side of an oval conference table while the Council members were sitting on the other side with their assistants sitting in chairs behind them.  “But not for escape.”

 

“Yet curiously, you’re still alive.”  Phelps commented.

 

“Someone interceded on my behalf.”  Michael hedged.  Even though he knew it had to be this way, he was still hesitant and not just because it looked better that way.

 

“Who?”  Williams asked ominously.

 

“Nikita.”  Michael reluctantly answered.  His reluctance, while adding an air of credibility, was still all too real.  He knew that Nikita had, however misguided the action, tried to give him a second chance at life and he was betraying her to further his cause.

 

“Jones’ own daughter?”  Smith asked.  The Council members had assumed either Walter or Jason (or both) had helped him escape.  The news that it had been Jones’ genetic and hand-picked heir that had disobeyed orders and allowed, nay, orchestrated the escape of an operative that had the potential to cause the Agency a lot of harm if found was very damaging to the current regime.

 

“Yes.”  Michael confirmed.  “She intervened at the last minute.  No one else knew.”

 

“And of course, you may have accepted your sentence but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”  Smith commented. 

 

“In all fairness, the order should never have been given.” Madeline had been waiting for this opening.

 

“Why not?”  Clemens asked.  “You and Paul Wolfe had yourselves documented Michael’s transgressions against Section for personal gain.”

 

“That *is* true.”  Madeline stated carefully.  “But in retrospect we didn’t leave him much room to maneuver in.”

 

“Meaning what?”  Smith asked.

 

“In our zeal to further our agenda and to keep our power base intact we backed Michael into a corner.”  Madeline elaborated.  “We didn’t leave him much choice.”

 

“So, now you’re saying that the misconduct was warranted.”

 

“Yes.  Michael was an excellent operative.  I’m sure Section’s current numbers attest to that.”  Madeline confirmed sedately.  “It’s one of the reasons that George felt it best to place Michael in command.  His ambition is not tainted by a thirst for power.”

 

“Madeline was not the only one who had abused her position.”  George felt he had to add. 

 

“Oh?”  Smith asked, knowing that at least some of this must have been rehearsed, but admitting that they’d done their homework quite well.

 

“Anyone properly watching Section would have realized it and not ordered the cancelation in the firs place.”

 

“What are you implying?”  Phelps asked.

 

“Jones ordered the cancelation for personal reasons and not for the betterment of the organization.”  George explained, adding another nail to his former boss’ coffin.  “He wanted the better candidates out of the way to make room for his daughter.”

 

“Do you have proof?”  Smith demanded.

 

“Hard evidence, no.”  George admitted.  “But what other reason could there be for the order?  There were no other marks against Michael, his service record outstanding.”  There was no reason to add that Jones knew that Nikita wouldn’t be able to go through with the order because in the end that didn’t really matter.  Whether dead or out of the ‘game’ Michael was out of *his* way.

 

“Well.”  Smith began after brief glances at the other three Council members, nodding to his assistant who then stood up and walked over to the door that connected with the living room of the suite.  “Coupled with your report, what we’ve heard here today is quite interesting and compelling.  However, there’s someone else that should be heard from as well.”

 

Another nod to his assistant and the door opened revealing Jones and Nikita.  One look at Nikita and Michael knew that she and Jones had heard *everything.*

 

Nikita and her father came further into the room, but did not sit down in the proffered chairs, preferring to stand on the side of the table, in between the Council and the threesome accusing them of failure.

 

“Is what we’ve heard true?”  Smith turned to Jones.

 

“Yes.”  Nikita answered instead, defending her father, her eyes focused straight ahead unseeing, refusing to look at Michael and not realizing that his gaze was averted as well.  “His decision was not personal, *mine* was.  No one knew.  I’m willing to accept your judgment but the repercussions should not extend to Mr. Jones.”

 

 “I did what was best for the Agency.”  Jones forestalled anything further from his daughter by  squeezing her hand lightly as a signal that this was his battle not hers.

 

“You’re not denying the accusations?”

 

“What would be the point?”  Jones asked practically  He and Smith had known each other for too long to play games.  Besides Jones was well aware of the ‘numbers,’ he’d simply believed he would have more time to correct the problems.  But he had been completely blind-sided, had had no idea that two of three accusing him of incompetence were even alive, let alone plotting together.  In retrospect, he should have known better.  Michael of course, he knew about.  Jones knew his daughter wouldn’t be able to carry out the order when he gave it.  “Regardless of what I tell you, your minds are made up.  You merely wanted me to hear why I’m being removed.”

 

“Hear and understand.”  Smith corrected his longtime friend.  “As much as it pains the four of us to say, the numbers do speak for themselves.  Even your presence in Section One did not improve the situation.”

 

“Our organizations have felt the ripple effect as well.”  Phelps added, explaining why they had been willing to listen to George in the first place and then asking for his input once the situation looked like it would become critical without their intervention.  “Other groups have become emboldened by the increased successes of the various terrorist factions.”

 

“We truly are sorry that it had to come to this.  But there’s no other path now.”  Smith spoke for the group again.  “We must ask for your resignation.”

 

“Ask. As if I had a choice.”  Jones nodded grimly.  “Very well then.  What are the terms?”

 

“Father…”  Nikita began, shocked that he would give in this easily then falling silent at his look.

 

“Same as with voluntary retirement.”  Smith answered.  “A new residence, around the clock protection and a healthy salary.  No intervention or attempts at a return.”

 

“Agreed.”  Jones stated, looking every one of his considerable years.  “Let’s go.”  He turned to Nikita, who with one last look of condemnation at Michael followed.  She hadn’t been surprised at George and Madeline’s actions.  Michael, was a different story.  She’d set him free and he had repaid her with betrayal.

 

********

 

Several hours later, while Jones and Nikita were packing up his residence they received a visitor.

 

Nikita was still assimilating what her father had told her on the drive back.  He’d admitted that George had been right about his actions.  He’d gotten rid of the competition, so to speak, to clear the way for who and what he wanted.  He’d done it because he knew his colleagues would question the validity of his choice if certain others were still around. 

 

The motivation however, had not been selfish.  Jones truly believed she was the one for his job, and not merely because of genetics.  Nikita still didn’t know if her father’s ends justified his means.  Heck, she still hadn’t decided if she was going to stay in the Agency.  Now all of it was moot, Jones was out of it himself.  Where that left her, Nikita wasn’t sure.  The ringing of the doorbell snapped her out of her thoughts. 

 

“Come here to gloat?”  Jones asked upon seeing his visitor.

 

“No.”  Michael replied, looking squarely at Jones.

 

“Nikita, why don’t you finish packing the upstairs.”  Jones said after a minute of dead silence.

 

“I don’t…”

 

“Please.”  Jones ordered rather than asked.

 

“Fine.”  Nikita retorted, striding angrily away, vowing to have her say once the two men had their ‘private’ conversation.

 

“Well.”  Jones prodded, once he’d settled himself on the sofa of the informal living room.  It was one of the few rooms still unpacked.  “Have you been given command yet?”

 

“Yes.”  Michael replied, staring out the bay window, gathering his thoughts.

 

“So why *are* you here then, if not to gloat?”

 

“Counsel.”

 

“I admire your temerity, but why would I want to advise *you* to do *my* job?”

 

“You still care about the Agency.”

 

“Perhaps if you tell me why you’re *really* here, I’d be more inclined to chat.”  Jones countered.

 

“You knew.”  Michael stated simply in answer.

 

“Not until I saw the three of you together.”  Jones admitted, knowing exactly what Michael was referring to.

 

“How?”

 

“The enemy was never that good.”

 

“You didn’t say anything.”  Michael wanted to know why.

 

“You covered your tracks too well.”  Jones replied.  “I could never back up such an assertion.  Without proof it would look like I were merely flinging accusations and grasping at straws.”

 

“They may have listened.”  Michael countered.

 

“Maybe.”  Jones conceded.  “However, the fact that you succeeded in predicting and outmaneuvering Section casts doubt about my continued suitability.”

 

“But you don’t believe in my and Madeline’s suitability either.”

 

“No.”  Jones admitted candidly.  “But that’s for the rest of the Council to debate now.”

 

“Have you told Nikita?”

 

“No.”  Jones answered.  “It wouldn’t have changed anything.  Besides I had no doubt you would tell her yourself.”

 

Michael nodded in appreciation of Jones’ kindness. “What will you do now?”

 

“I don’t really know. I didn’t expect to retire this soon.”  Jones answered.  “In answer to your *unspoken* question, no, I don’t have any plans to interfere in any way.  One of the rules we’d all agreed to when joining the Council was that once a decision was made, there was no breaking it.”

 

“I understand.”  Michael paused.  “You’re very accepting.”

”That surprises you.”

 

“Yes.”  Michael admitted.

 

“But there’s something else that’s foremost on your mind.”  Jones concluded.

 

“Why did you allow all that Section did to Nikita?”

 

“That’s none of your concern.”  Jones began.

 

“I disagree.”  Michael interrupted as politely as circumstances allowed.  “It was my concern for the seven years you simply watched.”

 

“And you condemn me for them.”  Jones stated.  “Yet you will undoubtedly subject your son to the same environment.”

 

“You and Section left me no choice.”  Michael countered.  “Even so, Adam will grow up with a father who does more than simply watch and hope someone else keeps him alive.”

 

“We’ll just have to see what the future holds.  Plans change.  Mine did, yours will too someday.”  Jones returned.  “I *will* say that acceptance is easier with you at the helm than Madeline or George.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked.  “Because I kept your daughter alive?”

 

“Because you kept hope for Section and the Agency alive in doing so.”  Jones countered. “But now I have a question for you.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“What are your plans for my daughter?”

 

“Yes, Michael.”  Nikita chimed in as she came striding purposefully into the room, having tired of waiting.  “Are you going to dispose of me as well?”

 

Michael hardened his resolve before he answered.  “George and Madeline feel there is no place in the organization for you.”

 

“And you agree.”  Nikita surmised.

 

“Yes.”  Michael continued to lie.

 

“I see.”  Nikita paused.  “The three of you orchestrated all of this.”

 

“Yes.”  Michael admitted candidly.  “I’m sorry.  There was no other way.”

 

“Why?”  Was all Nikita asked.

 

“Change was necessary.”

“A bloodless revolution and now you’re at the top, where you always wanted to be. Congratulations.”  Nikita returned bitterly then turned to her father.  “I’ll finish upstairs.”  She pivoted and walked quickly away before the tears fell.

 

“You lied.  Why?”  Jones asked once he and Michael were alone again.

 

“Nikita should be free to get to know her father.”  Michael replied, heading for and opening the door before adding,  “You can protect her on the outside.”

 

 

THE END

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

Three months later things had settled into a routine.  The Collective, remnants of Section’s old vanquished enemies, was about to be annihilated.  Five substations had been destroyed, the other four under surveillance until the final push against their headquarters in twelve hours.

 

Michael had been to three Council meetings and was asked for his input at the last one.  Adam was slowly coming out of his shell. He was finally getting used to the increased security around him and beginning to accept that Michael would be the only returning parent.  Madeline was proving to be an invaluable asset.  George, true to his word, was still in Oversight but looking for a successor.  Paul was doing better, thanks in no small part to Madeline, who’d convinced him to relinquish his power struggles in favor of doing his job. 

 

The reports Michael had received on Nikita and Jones were encouraging.  They had been traveling together for two and a half months and Jones had seemed to indeed ‘retire.’  Michael missed Nikita more and more every day but was content that she was enjoying life.  He was reading reports late one warm but breezy spring night when the front gate called to tell him he had an unscheduled visitor.  She had said her name was Nikita.

 

Michael came out to the gate to see that it was indeed Nikita and told the guards to let her pass unescorted.

 

********

 

“How did you find me?”  Michael asked as they walked back to the house, afraid to ask why she had come.

 

“Madeline told me.”  Nikita answered then explained how she found Madeline in the first place upon Michael’s raised eyebrow, easily visible with the nearly full moon still high in the sky.  “She was having dinner at Paul’s.” 

 

They reached the house and Michael escorted Nikita into his private study.  Letting her take the lead, Michael watched as Nikita chose the couch to sit on.  Taking it as a good sign Michael sat on the other end and turned to face her.

 

Hesitant to begin, Nikita asked a ‘safe’ question.  “How’s Adam?”

 

“He’s adjusting.”  Michael replied, then in a rare display of anxiety asked softly, “What are you doing here?”

 

“My father told me what you did.”  Nikita evaded.

 

“But you knew already.”  Michael misunderstood Nikita’s statement.

 

“I meant the truth about my release from Section.”  Nikita countered.  “I wanted to thank you.”

 

“It’s not necessary.”  Michael returned.

 

“Yes, it is.”  Nikita interrupted.  “My father and I have done a lot of talking over these few months.  I still hate what he did, but I’m learning to forgive.”

 

“Good.”  Michael commented, waiting for Nikita to continue.

 

“I didn’t come here just to say thanks.”  Nikita finally spoke up after a few minutes.  “I want back in.  All I ask is to be able to visit my father.”

 

“Why?”  Michael asked unable to contain his surprise.  “For him?”

 

“Not for him, *or* for you.  Well, not entirely.” Nikita smiled slightly and amended.  “I want to do it for me.”

 

“I don’t understand.”  Michael admitted.  “I thought…”

 

“So did I.”  Nikita broke in, biting her lip and looking at the floor.  “But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

 

“And?”  Michael prodded when Nikita’s pause threatened to turn into a long silence.

 

“And I think I could be happy working for the Agency knowing that a good man was in charge and doing his best to adhere to its original goals.”  Nikita’s downcast gaze finally lifted to meet Michael’s.

 

“You’re certain?”  Michael held his breath, waiting for Nikita’s confirmation.

 

“Yes.”  Nikita replied without hesitation then worried when Michael remained silent.

 

“I’m glad.”  Michael finally returned, his words succinct but significant.

 

After a few moments of silent contemplation Nikita asked throatily.  “Michael?” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“How far is your bedroom from Adam’s?”  Nikita asked, an impish smile on her lips.

 

“Far enough.”  Michael replied thickly, taking Nikita’s hand and leading her upstairs as a rare, genuine smile lit up his features.