Prologue:

 

 

 

Eighteen long months had passed since the painful goodbye at the train station. Nikita and Michael’s lives seemed as opposite as their personalities once were.

 

Michael had taken his son Adam and ran – literally. Unfortunately, within their first year and a half on the run there had been two close calls. The Collective had found them once in Switzerland, six months after Michael had left Section for the last time. Luckily however, the perimeter defense system Michael had installed outside their isolated estate had given them just enough warning to get out unscathed.

 

Almost a year later a resurgent Red Cell had found father and son in a small, sleepy New England town. Michael had chosen that particular town because many who’d moved in were running and/or hiding from something. Townspeople didn’t ask questions nor did they offer answers themselves.

 

It had been the ideal place to live in – or so Michael had thought. Fortunately, Adam had been in school and Michael had had to shoot his way out of the remote gated estate they’d been living in for less than three months.

 

Following the second incident, Michael had come to one of the most painful decisions of his life. Realizing that all he had to offer Adam was a life constantly on the run, he’d decided to do what he thought best.

 

Michael contacted someone he knew from his early days in Section One. It was a resource he was loathe to use, uncomfortable with being in anyone’s debt. He’d used her for Section purposes liberally and had compensated her well.

 

For himself, he’d secured her services only once before – when he went against Section to free Nikita from the Gelman mind control process. For her part, she’d only secured his services once as well. After this he’d owe her, unless she changed her MO and asked for immediate payment for personal favors.

 

Being in the ‘business’ herself, Michael’s contact knew about his situation. She’d assumed Michael was going to ask her to help him and his son disappear.

 

Heeding the rule of never meeting in the same place twice, Michael and his contact chose to meet at a cafe in the bustling New York City, when the busy dinner hours were just beginning to wind down. At this hour no one would pay any attention to a couple foregoing dinner and sharing a cup of coffee instead. Having arrived first, Michael politely deferred the waiter’s request for his order and sat down, patiently waiting for her arrival.

 

While waiting, he placed a call to his and Adam’s current home, speaking softly so as not to be overheard. Satisfied that the high paid bodyguard/child care giver was doing her job in his absence, Michael hung up the phone and sat back to wait for his date.

 

Spotting his quarry after only a few minutes, Michael stood to greet her as she made her way to the back booth.

 

“Diana,” Michael addressed the brunette, kissing her on each cheek. She stood five feet, eight inches tall in her stocking feet. With jet black hair, blue eyes and a curvaceous figure many men would admire, she’d normally stand out in any crowd. However, in deference to the nature of this meeting, she’d toned down her usual appearance in order to blend in.

 

“Michael,” Diana smiled warmly as she returned his greeting, genuinely pleased to see for herself that the former Section operative was indeed alive and well. “I’m glad that the rumors of your survival and welfare appear to be true.”

 

“Thank you,” Michael returned her smile and gestured for her to sit down across from him.

 

Deciding to get certain formalities out of the way, Michael waved over their waiter, turned to his companion and waited for her to order first.

 

“I’ll have an iced cappuccino and a tiramisu,” Diana ordered, politely thanking the waiter after he repeated her order.

 

“Just a hot cappuccino, please,” Michael took his turn then raised an amused eyebrow at Diana once the waiter had left with their order.

 

“What?”

 

“Just remembering the first time you tried tiramisu,” Michael replied.

 

“It wasn’t made very well,” Diana explained. “I’ve had much better since then. It’s really rather good when made properly.”

 

“Does that mean you’ve had it here before?” Michael asked cannily.

 

“Yes,” Diana knew why he was asking. “But only as a civilian. It’s clean.”

 

“I’m sure it is,” Michael apologized, knowing she wouldn’t have picked the cafe if it weren’t. Changing the subject, he decided to broach the topic of potential payment arrangements, “Are you still collecting favors?”

 

“Yep. Luckily I haven’t had too many rainy days.”

 

“So, this will add to your collection.” Michael surmised she wouldn’t be asking him for any sort of payment today.

 

“That’s right,” Diana confirmed.

 

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by the waiter’s return. Once he left, the two old acquaintances got down to business over their respective orders.

 

“What do you need?” Diana asked.

 

“For Adam to disappear,” Michael replied.

 

“Where do you want to go?” Diana asked.

 

“Not me,” Michael clarified, stunning Diana. “Just Adam.”

 

********

 

The past year and a half had been difficult for Nikita as well. Standing in the darkened perch, looking down at the main area below, she thought over the difficult times behind her and the equally difficult times to come.

 

Keeping Walter close had been one of the few things that had kept her sane. He was the only one left in Section that she truly trusted and his sage advice had helped her out more times than she could count. As vital as his advice had been, Walter’s continued friendship and strong shoulder to lean and cry on, had been just as important.

 

Walter, for his part, was happy to stay in munitions and look after his “Sugar.” Nikita may have been the ‘big cheese’ and out of the field, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any dangers. Both from the outside and within. With Michael gone, Walter took it upon himself to watch over her.

 

Out of necessity, Nikita had promoted Kate Quinn to second in command. She knew Quinn had wanted the position when Paul Wolfe had been in command. Not having any better qualified candidates anyway, Nikita had given the position to her.

 

Quinn had proved to be up to the task and was quite capable in her own way. Of course though, she was no Madeline. Whatever her faults had been, Madeline had been one of a kind when it came to psych ops, strategy and interrogation. Her skills had been sorely missed over the last eighteen months. It was too bad that Nikita’s recommendation for Madeline’s evaluation had gone unheeded forcing Madeline to take her own life.

 

Jason, on the other hand, was proving to be just as good as his predecessor. While he’d never replace his brother in her heart, Nikita had to admit that Jason’s proficiency equaled that of Birkoff’s.

 

As for the other positions, they weren’t as well manned. While Michael, like Madeline, had been irreplaceable, Nikita had hoped for better than she got. The first level five who Nikita inserted into Michael’s slot was a very good strategist and tactician – as long as there were no anomalies. Dorothy couldn’t think on her feet; as soon as anything went wrong she was useless.

 

Next she tried William. He was excellent on his feet and could change a profile mid mission barely missing a step. The problem with him was he wasn’t that good at planning the missions.

 

In the end, Nikita had to settle for splitting the difference. Dorothy would handle planning while William carried out the mission. Even then Nikita and Kate found themselves stepping in more than they should to achieve closure on missions gone slightly awry.

 

Sadly, there were no better alternatives. These two had been the best the Agency had to offer. Nikita hoped that with more experience one of the two would step up and claim the position as their own.

 

One of the other few bright spots was Jasmine Kwong. Nikita had promoted her to team leader way ahead of the curve but Jasmine did not disappoint. In time, she could become the field leader Nikita needed, but time was a luxury Section One didn’t have.

 

As soon as she promoted Jasmine, Nikita searched the Section databases for the rest of the Section Eight crew that Jasmine had been a part of. Surprisingly, they were all still alive.

 

Claire Brooks had been turned into a valentine op - a waste of her talents as far as Nikita was concerned. She’d requested a transfer for the young woman right away. When Claire showed up in Section One, Nikita was shocked at her appearance. Gone was the innocent looking lollipop girl and in her place was an embittered operative who looked like she was about to get out of Section the only way she could – in a body bag. Nikita knew the look and the despair behind it for she’d been there more than once herself.

 

Nikita immediately assigned Jasmine as Claire’s mentor and field op trainer. Her plan had already borne some fruits. Claire eventually showed great aptitude in the field and would probably soon be promoted to level two.

 

Trent Hammett had been toiling away in a Section One substation, running their comm. While not as good as Jason, Trent was more than capable of being a first-rate assistant for Section One’s resident computer genius. Once transferred, Trent had successfully run several high level missions on his own and had recently begun to sub for his superior when Jason desperately needed his downtime.

 

Patrick “Darwin” Donoghue had fared the best. He’d apparently learned as much as he could (getting his hands on any information available and some not officially available) about armaments on his own in between missions. He’d been comfortably ensconced in Section Three as a munitions assistant when Nikita found him.

 

Nikita had him transferred to One and handed him over to Walter for taming and training. Darwin was now happily assisting Walter and only flirting with Section One’s female population as opposed to hitting on them. Well, most of the time, anyway.

 

All things considered, the four teens, once condemned to no-contest missions were proving their nay sayers wrong. They weren’t only surviving – they were thriving.

 

A little more time and Nikita was sure she’d be able to return Section One to what it used to be – the most effective (covert) anti-terrorist organization on the planet.

 

Nikita was unceremoniously brought out of her musings by the intercom.

 

“Yes, Jason,” Nikita answered the page.

 

“Center on the line for you,” Jason returned.

 

Nikita took her cell phone out of her pocket and spoke crisply into it, “Yes?”

 

After a brief, one-sided conversation Nikita hung up, frowning. She’d been summoned to Center to meet with the triumvirate who oversaw the entire Agency. Philip Jones may have been the ‘managing partner,’ but in reality he was just one of three colleagues who had an equal say in how the Agency was run. He’d been replaced within forty-eight hours and the triumvirate had been up to three again.

 

A summons to meet with them hardly ever involved good news. As she was preparing to leave, Nikita wondered what they wanted from her and Section One this time.

 

 

The More Things Change The More They Stay The Same

 

 

Six months later

 

 

Michael was now living alone and under an assumed name of course, in the penthouse suite of an apartment building in an exclusive upper-middle class neighborhood. Posing as a security consultant, Michael had acquired his current home by making a deal with the owner of the building. In exchange for a free consultation and security system upgrade, Michael was allowed to do anything he wanted with his own apartment’s security.

 

The arrangement worked out well for Michael. The security upgrade had certainly been expensive. But Michael had managed to ‘save’ quite a bit while in Section and Nikita had made sure he received a sizable lump sum ‘pension’ payment before he left Section two years ago. Between the two, Michael had more than enough money for several lifetimes.

 

Life without Adam had been difficult, but Michael knew he had done the right thing for his son. Diana had come through and found Adam a good home with an affluent family in an upscale suburb of Los Angeles, California.

 

As much as he had wanted to, Michael had not gotten in touch with Nikita these past few months either. He’d kept tabs on her and the organization through his own resources, but he hadn’t made any contact with anyone since he’d left Section.

 

However, just before he left Michael had given Walter a special PDA, similar to the one he’d given Nikita after the Shays mission all those years ago. Other than Nikita, Walter was the only person in Section he trusted.

 

Michael had given the older man explicit instructions along with the device. There were only two circumstances for which it was to be used. One was to contact him if Nikita was in trouble. The other was to give it to Nikita if she ever asked for his whereabouts.

 

Michael hadn’t expected to hear from Nikita for a while – not until she’d been promoted out of Section. To his wary but pleased surprise, Nikita had just recently contacted him. The message had been brief but it had nevertheless stirred up emotions he was sure they’d both buried to get through the last couple of years. 

 

And now he was waiting for her to come over for dinner.

 

********

 

Nikita was nervously pacing the aerie, preparing a contingency. She would be leaving for dinner at Michael’s home in less than an hour and her original plans for the night had to be revised out of necessity. She wasn’t happy with the changes, but she knew it had to be done. Resigned, she left Quinn in command and left for her dinner engagement.

 

As the armored limousine drove away from Section, Nikita contemplated the evening ahead. Despite knowing that it would undoubtedly be a long time, if ever, before they’d be able to do it again the thought of seeing Michael in such an intimate environment set her heart beating faster and her pulse racing.

 

********

 

At precisely eight o’clock, the security desk called upstairs to inform Michael that his guests had arrived. Sitting at his desk in the den he checked his own security monitor, which was also tapped into the building’s system. Once he made sure it was indeed Nikita (plus her two personal bodyguards) he told security to let them up.

 

Double checking the front door monitor after his doorbell buzzed, Michael opened the door for Nikita.

 

“Hi,” Nikita smiled almost shyly while devouring Michael with her eyes.

 

“Come in,” Michael responded without taking his eyes off her face, equally enthralled.

 

Nikita stepped past him while her bodyguards positioned themselves in the hallway, one on either side of Michael’s doorway.

 

Two years apart was a very long time. Their feelings however, had not diminished in the least in that time span. Even though they both knew seeing each other in person would be overwhelming, neither were prepared for *how* overwhelmed they would actually be.

 

Dinner ended up being late and reheated because everything was put aside. Communicating wordlessly, as they had done for so many years, they read the need and desire in each other’s eyes. Invitation understood and accepted, Michael took Nikita’s hand and led her to his bedroom.

 

********

 

An hour and a half later Nikita and Michael took their after dinner wine over to the living room couch. Conversation during dinner was minimal, each reveling in the fact that they were spending this time together. However, dinner did have to end some time and now they sat down to talk for the first time in two years.

 

“Are you all right?” Nikita asked, taking a sip of the sweet wine, her apprehension returning now that they were actually talking. “Is there anything you need?”

 

“I’m fine,” Michael replied, his two years away from Section hardly evident in his  now carefully guarded demeanor, a reaction to his sensing the change in Nikita’s mood. “And you?”

 

“So far, so good.” Nikita smiled sadly. “Most days are bearable.”

 

“Why are you here?” Michael finally asked after a long pause.

 

“I missed you.” Nikita confessed, looking away.

 

“Is that all?” Michael asked, surprised. He’d expected Nikita to ask for his help, had purposely given her an opening to do so.

 

As if in answer to his question, Michael’s vision blurred and a feeling of déjà vu swept over him. This time however, he didn’t even have a chance to react. He’d barely registered the sensation before he lost consciousness, the wineglass dropping to the floor from nerveless fingers as his head fell against the back of the couch.

 

Shaking her head at what she was about to do, Nikita sighed, quickly walking to the door and opening it before she changed her mind.

 

Motioning inside, she ordered her two bodyguards, “Take him.”

 

And take him they did. Down the service elevator while a set of Section operatives distracted security by posing as loud, drunk and lost tourists. Housekeeping was already sanitizing the area by the time Michael was loaded into the Section transport.

 

********

 

Upon awakening, Michael found himself in bed, in his old Section quarters. Looking around he noticed that everything was exactly the same as when he’d last been there. Inwardly grimacing, he supposed that he should have been flattered that his quarters had not been reassigned while he’d been gone – supposedly for good.

 

Not surprised at his surroundings but fairly resentful of the method of his arrival, Michael slowly sat up, testing his physical condition. Feeling no residual symptoms from whatever drug Nikita had given him other than a lingering sluggishness, Michael stood up and walked over to the bathroom. He noted the new towels hanging on the hooks then opened the medicine cabinet to find all new toiletries, all of them brands he used.

 

After taking care of his personal needs, Michael decided a quick, cold shower was in order to rid himself of the remaining lethargy. Done, he went back to the bedroom and found his closet full with his old clothes. Donning a black suit, his usual Section attire, he walked over to his kitchen area. Opening the small refrigerator Michael wasn’t at all taken aback when he saw that it was fully stocked.

 

He took out a water bottle, noting that it was his preferred brand, strolled into the living room area and made himself comfortable on the sofa. He knew it was only a matter of time before Nikita showed up and he had only one question for her.

 

Michael had realized that returning to Section was inevitable once he let go of Adam. What he wanted to know was why Nikita hadn’t been straightforward and asked for help rather than deceive him the way she had. By bringing him back the way she had, Nikita had changed Michael’s perception of his return.

 

********

 

Nikita finished her debrief of a team leader who’d just returned from what was supposed

to be an easy cold mission, intel gathering only, and sighed in frustration. The team had  entered the perimeter even though Sandy, mobile comm. for this mission, had run into an anomaly. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure she’d jammed perimeter surveillance and wanted confirmation from Section. 

 

The team leader, a supposedly seasoned level five op, denied the request, citing a short window as the reason. The team had had to shoot their way out and now the target was aware of Section’s interest. Contrary to the team leader’s conclusion, he didn’t have to throw caution to the wind because there had been enough time for confirmation. With his experience, the team leader should have calculated the window better in the first place, before the team hit their second mark.

 

As much as Nikita would have liked to send him for retraining, it wasn’t an option at this time. She simply had too few team leaders, completely competent or not, to lose even one. Having had Michael as a model all those years sometimes made Nikita forget that his kind of brilliance wasn’t prevalent even in tier two operatives.

 

Checking her watch, Nikita realized that Michael would be awake by now. She descended from the perch and headed towards his quarters through a now quiet Section. She’d kept his return a secret from everyone but those involved in his retrieval. Even Walter was still in the dark.

 

As she walked through the gray hallways, Nikita prepared what she was going to say to Michael when he asked her why she’d resorted to drugging him. Her plans would all be for naught if he didn’t understand and accept her actions.

 

As he had been a level five operative, Michael’s old quarters were equipped with a security system, allowing a modicum of privacy. Only tier one operatives had the necessary clearance to override the security. However, rather than entering her all-access code, Nikita rang the modified doorbell. While she waited for his response, she wondered what she would do if Michael ignored her arrival.

 

When he heard his doorbell buzz, Michael got up from the sofa and went to the door. Even though he knew who it was he checked the security monitor on the wall anyway. Almost amazed that she actually ‘knocked’ rather than just let herself in, he stood momentarily debating whether or not to invite Nikita in.

 

If he ignored her, would Nikita assume he was still sleeping off the drugs she had given him? Michael doubted it, for he was sure Nikita adjusted the dosage to his unusually high tolerance and calculated exactly when he’d awaken.

 

No, he was sure Nikita would understand exactly what he was doing if he didn’t at least acknowledge her presence. The question is, what would she do about it? Come back later or come in and show him who was in charge now.

 

The desire to find out “why” and his weariness of power plays and mind games won out. Michael opened the for Nikita and ushered her in, surprised at the hesitancy in her expression and manner.

 

As usual, it was Nikita who spoke first, “I’m sorry.”

 

Although his tone was conversational, Michael’s resentment wasn’t alleviated by the sincerity emanating from Nikita’s eyes. “Why?” Michael’s Section persona and style re-emerged after a two year absence.

 

Unconvinced by his studied casualness, Nikita confessed as much as she could given the situation. “I didn’t think you’d come back willingly.”

 

“Why not?” A genuinely surprised Michael asked, trying to figure out Nikita’s true motives.

 

“You said you’d been…alone…for six months and you hadn’t contacted me even once.”

 

Understanding dawned on Michael as he continued the conversation, “I wasn’t ready.”

 

“I know,” Nikita replied sadly. “I needed you more than you needed me,” She added truthfully.

 

“That’s not true,” Michael contradicted. “I’ve always needed you. Not Section, not freedom. Just you.”

 

“Then why did you wait?” This was something they hadn’t discussed. If he truly felt that way he would have contacted her already, wouldn’t he? They could have arranged something without anyone being the wiser.

 

“Adam.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I required a year,” Michael explained. “To make sure he’d be safe and happy once I disappeared.”

 

“You could monitor him from here,” Nikita offered.

 

“No,” Michael looked away briefly. As good as Diana was, he doubted Adam would be found. However, Michael had wanted to give Adam time to adjust to his new home. After a year he’d planned on asking Diana his son’s whereabouts to check up on him before returning to Nikita. He knew that once he met up with Nikita, there’d be no going back and keeping an eye on Adam while in Section was a bad idea. “It’s better that the Agency isn’t involved.”

 

“You’re probably right,” Nikita conceded, remembering the debacle the Agency made of Adam’s safety in the first place.

 

“So, why now?” Michael decided it was time to get to the heart of the matter.

 

“Section…”

 

“Section?” Michael asked, purposely allowing a hint of bitterness to slip through. “I thought you needed me.”

 

“I do,” Nikita affirmed. “I always will.”

 

“But if not for Section, you wouldn’t have contacted me.”

 

“No,” Nikita couldn’t deny the truth. “I would have waited until you were ready.”

 

“If I never was?” Michael was curious.

 

“I would have complied with your decision.”

 

“Would you?” Michael sounded skeptical.

 

“Yes,” Nikita answered sincerely.

 

“And if I decide to leave?” He tried another approach.

 

“I’d be…disappointed,” Nikita looked at him, knowing he had good reason not to trust her words given how he’d been brought back in. “But, I wouldn’t stop you.”

 

Michael was still unsure, but he decided to let it go for now. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Section is doing well,” Nikita began hesitantly, hoping he still had faith in her and in them. “However, not well enough for the triumvirate in charge of Center. They replaced

my father and are back up to three. I was given a year to bring Section up to their standards but their demands are unreasonable given current resources.”

 

“And you want my help to bring Section’s numbers up.”

 

“Yes,” Nikita stated.

 

“Do they know you were bringing me in?”

 

“No, I told no one of my plans. Not even Walter. Other than my personal guards, no one saw you,” Nikita replied, her confidence in the discretion of her bodyguards obvious.

 

“Good,” Michael nodded. Surprise was always a good weapon, no matter the situation.

 

“If you agree, I’ll ask the triumvirate to reinstate you in Section, as my second in command.”

 

“How much time do you have left?”

 

“Six months.”

 

“Do it.” Michael advised her softly, confirming his agreement.

 

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.” Nikita informed him, turning for the door and smiling for the first time since she’d entered Michael’s quarters.

 

“Nikita,” Michael called her back momentarily. Piercing her with his stare once she turned to face him, he warned her that not all was forgiven, at least not yet. “You should have told me,” The sentence chockfull of meaning.

 

********

 

Half an hour after she’d left Michael’s quarters, still well before dawn, Nikita returned. This time it was a little less awkward between them. At this point, Nikita was pleased with any improvement, no matter how minute.

 

“I was granted a meeting at Center,” Nikita stated, barely stepping through the threshold, once Michael had allowed her in.

 

“When?” Michael asked, although her edginess coupled with her unwillingness to come further inside was answer enough.

 

“Now,” Nikita confirmed Michael’s supposition.

 

“Are you ready?” Michael caressed her cheek, setting aside his earlier resentment and communing his support.

 

“Yes,” Nikita stated determinedly, closing her eyes briefly, leaning in to the touch momentarily before reluctantly pulling back.

 

“I have to go,” Nikita sighed, his gesture comforting and strengthening her. “I’m leaving Devon and Alex at the door.” She referred to the two bodyguards who’d helped her bring Michael in.

 

“What about you?” Michael knew that she was leaving the two behind not to keep him confined but rather to protect him if the need arose.

 

“I’ll take two others,” Nikita referred to another of her two-man team personal bodyguards. She had three teams of two, 12 hour shifts each, the extra team on call in case of an emergency. “It’s better no one else knows you’re here until it’s official,” Again she worried about his safety.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Michael reassured her, appreciating her concern even though he could take care of himself better than anyone else could.

 

“I know,” Nikita stated confidently. “I have to be.” She turned and with final instructions to the guards left for Center, striding purposely through a quiet Section.

 

They both knew the stakes. If Nikita failed to convince Center that the Agency needed Michael, it would be unlikely that they’d let him go again.

 

Between his knowledge of Section and Nikita’s well-known personal attachment to him, Michael was a liability on the outside.

 

No, Nikita reminded herself repeatedly on the way to Center, Failure is not an option.

 

********

 

After the debacle that left the Agency minus several key command positions, Center was moved out of England and into Switzerland, not far from Geneva. The trip to Center from Section One consisted of an armored limousine ride to a very private nearby airstrip. That was followed by a short plane ride to another secluded runway and another brief armored limousine ride. Security on these not infrequent trips was always airtight.

 

Nikita may have not known much about the hierarchy of the organization she worked for while toiling under Paul and Madeline, but she made damn sure she learned once her father died and she took over Section One. Once she took over the Section, Nikita learned that her father had essentially been the “managing partner” of the triumvirate that combined to head Center.

 

The same day that her father had been killed, he’d been replaced by the more senior of the remaining two. Two days later, the leaders were back up to three and Nikita was called in to meet them.

 

The triumvirate hid their feelings about her father’s decision for her to take over well. But whether they were friend or foe didn’t matter. Knowledge was power and the more you knew about those you worked for or against, the better you were able to protect yourself.

 

Two years later, Nikita still didn’t know much about her bosses. But now, if things went according to plan, there would be two people in Section she trusted implicitly – Michael and Walter. With Michael’s assistance, they’d be able to devote the needed time to covertly research their bosses’ background.

 

Nikita used the hour or so in the air to mentally review the little she did know about the

members of the Agency’s ruling triumvirate.

 

Her father’s successor was a brash, fifty-something former CIA operative named Daniel O’Neill. The only opinion he held back was of her competency. Anything else was fair game. The first time Nikita had met the group, Mr. O’Neill had held the floor for the majority of the meeting. He had barely let the other two members speak, preferring to do the talking for them.

 

Mr. O’Neill had told her he’d had tremendous respect for Philip Jones but the sacrifice he’d made at the end had been “foolish.” He had then went on to tell her in no uncertain terms that he expected her to live up to the legacy Nikita’s father had left her and to bring Section One back to what it used to be.

 

Lastly, he’d informed Nikita that Oversight was still in chaos and moreover, once they were fully functioning again, they’d be responsible for the other Sections only – not Section One.

 

From now on, Section One’s direct superiors were the triumvirate. The reason that Mr. O’Neill had given Nikita for the change was that because of her young age and little experience she needed their close supervision.

 

To say that Mr. O’Neill had a superiority complex was putting it mildly. However, Nikita had found that for all his impertinence, he was probably her best ally in the group though she had yet to figure out why.

 

The second most senior member of the group was a serene sixty-ish Belgian who reminded Nikita of Michael. They had the same quiet but authoritative manner. Etienne Lacroix had been an outstanding Interpol agent for two decades before going to Center. Mr. Lacroix had no qualms about allowing Mr. O’Neill to run most of the meeting. He was content to sit back and ask a pertinent question every once in a while or interject significantly here or there.

 

The newest member was a fifty-something English woman named Elisabeth Giles. She had the distinction of being the first female to join the triumvirate. She also had the distinction of being the first member to have come up through the Agency. She’d spent her entire adult life in the Agency, starting in one of the Sections then moving up to Oversight before finally moving to Center where she’d been the last fifteen years.

 

Even though she was the newest of the three, Ms. Giles was no wallflower. She made sure her opinion was heard and counted. The other two, for the most part, let her speak her mind and found that they agreed with her more often than not.

 

The triumvirate members would never be friends, but they got along professionally and ruled cohesively.

 

At first they had approved many of Nikita’s changes but she’d been smart enough not to lull herself into a false sense of security. Her days of trusting anyone in the Agency were long behind her. However, she did believe that they were if not pleased, then at least content, with her efforts.

 

Six months ago, the other shoe had dropped though, and Nikita was ordered to bring up Section’s efficiency by twenty percent. They gave her a one year deadline to accomplish that task and didn’t want to hear any excuses.

 

The lack of viable resources that Nikita had tried to explain to them would hinder Section in attaining that goal was what brought her to Michael in the first place. She felt that he was the last piece of the puzzle needed to complete the picture. And now Nikita had to convince her superiors that Michael was indeed the missing resource needed to achieve their objectives.

 

*Author’s note: As some of you know, I’m a huge Pretender fan. I liked the idea of a triumvirate ruling their evil machination filled Centre. I ‘borrowed’ that part from the show for my version of LFN’s Center rulers. I felt that three was a good number. One would be too powerful, two could be deadlocked so three to break a tie.

 

Also, in case anyone is interested I picture Richard Dean Anderson’s Stargate SG-1 character Colonel Jack O’Neill as Mr. O’Neill, Judi Dench (current “M” in the James Bond films) as Elisabeth Giles and an older Jean-Claude Van Damme (not a favorite actor, but he somehow fits) as Etienne Lacroix.

 

********

 

Arriving at Center, Nikita was escorted into the small, but well-appointed conference room that always housed her meetings with the triumvirate.

 

As always, after a weapons and bugs check she was escorted into the room first. Certain that there was hidden surveillance, Nikita made sure not to betray her nervousness and walked confidently to her chair.  Her seat was behind a small square table which was just large enough to hold the PDA or portfolio she sometimes brought with her as well as a pitcher of ice-cold water and an empty glass, in case meetings ran long.

 

Several feet in front of Nikita stood a larger, rectangular shaped conference table where the triumvirate would sit. On that table were three pitchers of water and three empty glasses. They never brought any paper or electronics with them, reinforcing Nikita’s suspicions of surveillance.

 

Nikita sat down, pretending to look at the PDA she’d brought with her while she took a minute to compose herself and prepare for what she was sure would be a fierce battle ahead. A few minutes later the three Center leaders walked in and took their customary seats, Mr. O’Neill in the middle, Mr. Lacroix to his left and Ms. Giles to his right. 

 

Purposely she was sure, the seating arrangement had always given Nikita the impression that she was there to present her case while the three sat in judgment. 

 

To her awful surprise, Mr. O’Neill thwarted her strategy by attacking first and unerringly.

 

“Why is your boyfriend back in Section One?”

 

********

 

As soon as Nikita had left for Center, Michael had gone to work. While he may have been confined to his quarters, he did have access to Section’s mainframe through the laptop in the sitting area of his bedroom.

 

Although he’d ben a field operative, Michael had mastered various other skills as well, including hacking. While he may not have achieved Seymour Birkoff’s level of proficiency, neither had the computer genius’s successors Quinn and Jason.

 

Michael’s natural and honed hacking skills combined with remembered lessons of Birkoff’s served him well again. With less effort than he thought he’d need, Michael quickly began perusing the necessary files required to bring him up to date on Section’s activities.

 

By the time triumvirate had begun their interrogation of Nikita, Michael was well on his way to acquainting himself with the current Section regime.

 

********

 

“Why is your boyfriend back in Section One?” Mr. O’Neill asked Nikita in an unusually contemptuous and imperious manner.

Stunned, but hiding it well, Nikita decided she wasn’t going to cower in front of them. “Michael Samuelle,” she stressed the name, refusing to be baited by Mr. O’Neill’s scornful tone, “is my new second-in-command.”

 

“Why didn’t you ask for authorization?” Mr. O’Neill continued the inquisition, pleased at Nikita’s tactic, but refusing to show it.

“Personnel decisions are mine to make.”

 

“Not when they involve recruiting from the outside. And you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have tried to do it in secret.” Mr. O’Neill countered.

“You wanted a twenty percent increase in Section One’s numbers in the next six months. This is the only way.” Nikita didn’t bother refuting her superior’s charges, both of them knowing he was right.

 

“In all of the Agency, there was no else?” Mr. Lacroix asked softly but with no less authority.

 

“No.” Nikita confirmed without hesitation.

 

“Is he better than you?” Ms. Giles asked cannily.

 

“We work best as a team,” Nikita answered truthfully. “However, if you feel our positions should be reversed, we are willing to consider it.” Nikita chose her words carefully, successfully conveying that her higher status was not a problem for Michael.

 

She also impressed upon them the fact that she and Michael would not make a command decision of *any* kind simply because the triumvirate willed it so. Nikita had wanted to pave the way for a smooth transition, but Mr. O’Neill spoiled it by going on the offensive instead of hearing her out. But, that did not mean that she would not fight to keep Michael alive and by her side.

 

“Tell you what blondie,” Mr. O’Neill regained control of the conversation. “Seeing as Section One hasn’t fallen apart since you took over, we’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” He chose his next words purposely, “You can keep loverboy – provided you deliver the numbers we asked for in three months.”

 

As much as she didn’t want to ask, Nikita couldn’t stop herself, “If we don’t?”

 

“We’ll just say there won’t be a retirement program for either one of you and leave it at that.”

 

“Agreed.” Nikita replied needlessly. She had known it would come to this at the end, anyway. Mr. O’Neill had merely confirmed it for her as well as the fact that he was every bit as ruthless as his predecessor, her father.

 

On her way out a few minutes later, Nikita turned back to Mr. O’Neill, “How did you know?” She asked, not really expecting an answer.

 

“I thought you understood,” Mr. O’Neill looked at her with some exasperation, “We know everything.”

 

“Of course,” Nikita replied sourly and turned back towards the door she came in through.

 

Following behind his colleagues, Mr. O’Neill was the only one of the three left in the room when he turned around and called, “Nikita.” Once he was sure she was listening, he looked at her pointedly and surprised Nikita by answering her previous question. “Surveillance.”

 

********

 

Although Nikita had achieved her objective in securing her and Michael’s positions for the next six months, she nevertheless felt vaguely unsettled on the way back to Section. She had the feeling that the triumvirate had their own agenda for capitulating with such relative ease. She also correctly deduced that Mr. O’Neill had been the driving force behind the decision.

 

Whether he truly supported her was still unclear. The reality that he was simply waiting for her to fail so that he could bring someone of his own choosing in loomed large. He did, after all, cut the deadline for improvement in half. It was now even more imperative that she, Michael and Walter find out everything there was to know about the various members of Center’s ruling three.

 

On the short trip back to Section One Nikita mulled over all the possible avenues to obtain the information needed without word leaking out. Unfortunately, their options seemed very limited.

 

********

 

Unbeknownst to Nikita, the decision to allow Michael’s return to Section was not undisputed. Mr. O’Neill had it made it clear to his colleagues that their support was mandatory, but the two were far from happy about it.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re allowing this,” Etienne Lacroix challenged Daniel O’Neill in the privacy of the older man’s office. “Samuelle will be more of a distraction and hindrance than help.”

 

“Furthermore, moving up the deadline all but guarantees their failure,” Elisabeth Giles added, agreeing with Mr. Lacroix’s opinion if not his reasoning. She’d spent many years in the Agency and did not believe Section One’s current regime, with or without the newest addition, was strong enough to carry out the job at hand.

 

“I thought that would make you happy,” Mr. O’Neill retorted. He knew Ms. Giles had tabbed Nikita, and now Michael, for lesser positions in the organization.

 

“Given that approval was granted with the condition of an ultimatum, my proposal would not be feasible anymore.” Ms. Giles returned. Mr. O’Neill had virtually threatened Nikita with cancelation if she and Michael failed. It would not be in the leadership’s best interests to renege on a threat.

 

“She’s right,” Lacroix reentered the discussion. “It would be a waste of resources to cancel them and now there’s no going back.”

 

“I have my reasons.” Mr. O’Neill replied enigmatically, effectively ending that part of the conversation. “Let’s get back to funding.”

 

 

********

 

When Nikita returned to Section Walter was waiting for her at the van access, excitement mixed with disappointment evident in his features.

 

“I thought you trusted me,” Walter greeted Nikita as soon as she set foot inside.

 

“I do,” Nikita countered to the man who’d been her only real champion and friend over the last two years. “Come with me.” She led him to the perch, not saying another word until they reached the aerie and Nikita darkened the windows. Michael could wait a few more minutes. Walter’s feelings were too important to postpone, for several reasons.

 

Ceding to her wishes, Walter walked alongside Nikita down the corridor towards Section’s hub in silence, reigning in his inquisitiveness until they reached the privacy of her office. Neither stopped or acknowledged the curious glances they received from various operatives along the way.

 

“How do you know?” Nikita asked Walter as soon as they were alone in the perch. She didn’t bother asking what he knew, as she was sure of that answer by his countenance.

 

“Come on Nikita,” Walter admonished, “I’ve been here over thirty years. Nothing gets by me.”

 

“It wasn’t about trust,” Nikita tactfully refrained from reminding Walter that obviously some things do get by him, her three years as a mole for Center one example.

 

“Really?” He was still skeptical.

 

“Yes. Really.” Nikita suppressed a tired sigh and elaborated. “I didn’t want anyone, especially you, involved in case the answer had been no.”

 

“Like I’ve told both you and Michael over the years, I can take care of myself.”

 

“I know Walter, I know,” Nikita granted. “But I didn’t want you sticking your neck out for me yet again.”

 

“Aww, Sugar,” A somewhat mollified Walter reverted to his pet name for Nikita, his anger defeated. “Any time, any thing.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Nikita hadn’t meant to broach the subject yet, but since the opportunity arose…

 

“You know it,” Walter affirmed. “Why?”

 

“We’ll talk soon,” Nikita promised, her accompanying mischievous smile a sight Walter hadn’t beheld in a long, long time.

 

********

 

Before they parted, Nikita instructed Walter to start spreading the news of Michael’s return through Section right away. Walter’s reputation in Section for being ‘in the know’ would lend credence to the rumor and Michael’s presence would quickly become expected rather than questioned.

 

Once Nikita concluded her impromptu but valuable meeting with Walter, she headed for Michael’s quarters. On the way, she made one stop at what used to be Madeline’s office. Kate Quinn had taken it over upon her promotion to second in command. Quinn needed to hear the news from no one else but Nikita.

 

Nikita punched her code in and the door slid silently open to admit her. Quinn was sitting at her desk, looking over the statistics of the most recent Section missions when her computer beeped, warning of her visitor. The numbers weren’t bad, but they weren’t as high as she knew they needed to be to get Center off their backs.

 

Quinn may not have been Nikita’s biggest supporter, but she’d pledged her loyalty to Section’s current leader long ago. Once earned, Quinn’s loyalty very rarely waned. True, Quinn had had doubts about Nikita’s longevity when the other woman had taken over Section soon after Paul Wolfe’s death. Quinn believed Nikita’s compassion and impulsiveness would eventually be her downfall.

 

In Quinn’s mind, it would be unfortunate, as of all those she’d met throughout her various stops in the Agency, Nikita was the best candidate for the Perch. Working in various sectors of the Agency before she came to Section One afforded Quinn a familiarization with many of the Agency’s higher ranking personnel. Michael Samuelle had been the only other operative she’d known who’d had what it took to run Section One, but he was as good as dead to the Agency.

 

To Quinn’s pleasant surprise, Nikita’s perceived weaknesses did not interfere with Section interests and respect for her new leader gradually grew. Nikita was tough when she needed to be and didn’t shirk the difficult decisions or pawn them off to Quinn. However, Quinn could see that living with the consequences of some of her actions took a toll on Nikita. She didn’t envy or covet her boss’s position, especially now that they were under the gun.

 

Glancing up at the door as it opened, she saw the subject of her musings walk in, looking uncomfortable. Sure that she had done nothing to warrant concern, Quinn wondered at the cause and gazed at her immediate superior expectantly. “I thought our meeting was later this afternoon.”

 

“It was. But there’s something I need to discuss with you now.” Nikita sat down across the desk from Quinn, purposely relaxing the tension from her features.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No, not wrong. Very right in fact,” Nikita paused. “Rumors will soon be flying in Section and I want you to know the real story.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“I’ve asked Center for permission to bring someone in from the outside,” Nikita stated. “They’ve consented.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Michael Samuelle.”

 

“I take it you have more in mind for him than field command,” Quinn stated evenly after a few beats, seeming to accept the news almost in stride.

 

“Your responsibilities will not change and you are not being demoted.” Nikita went straight to the heart of Quinn’s concerns.

 

“I don’t understand,” Quinn confessed.

 

“Michael and I will be working jointly,” Nikita explained. “In partnership.”

 

Quinn mulled that over, “Who will have final say?” A partnership was all well and good, but if they disagreed on a matter, only one of them could come out the winner.

 

“I will continue to have operational control,” Nikita replied.

 

“I see,” Quinn nodded then finally smiled, surprising the other woman. “Is there anything I can do to facilitate the transition?” She had a feeling Center would get more than they bargained for when they consented to Nikita’s request. Quinn knew a winning team when she saw one and she did not want to be left sitting on the sidelines.

 

********

 

Now that she’d informed the only two people that she felt warranted the personal notification that Michael was back, albeit alone, Nikita hurried to Michael’s quarters. Her personal guards were still at the door. Before going in, Nikita had a short talk with the two men.

 

“Has any one been down here?” Nikita asked Devon, the most senior member of her bodyguard crew.

 

“Yes, just before you returned to Section.” Devon supplied, “Walter.”

 

“And?” Nikita prompted.

 

“He took one look at us and backtracked. If it had been anyone else we’d have detained them.” Devon knew that because of his boss’s affection for and trust in the weapons wizard she wouldn’t have wanted him sanctioned for his actions.

 

“Good,” Nikita conveyed her approval. “Any resistance?”

 

“No, no one else made it to this level.” Devon confirmed. He’d talked to the other two bodyguards left behind in Section just after Walter had made his appearance. “The other level five operatives did not get past Derek and Milo.”

 

The whole floor was for level five operatives only. In addition to their quarters it contained other facilities also available in Section but with more privacy. Even level five operatives knew not to question Nikita’s personal detail so they made do elsewhere. Besides, the quantity (or quality) of level five operatives was not what it used to be and traffic on this floor was lighter than in past years.

 

“Walter somehow found a way around the system,” Alex added, feeling the need to defend his colleagues.

 

“He usually does,” Nikita smiled, communicating she wouldn’t hold Walter’s trespassing against them. “You can go now, the word is out. Take the next twelve hours off, all six of you.”

 

“Are you sure, ma’am?” Devon asked.

 

“Yes, I’ll be in Section.” Nikita confirmed. There was a lot of work to be done and a very short time to do it in.

 

“We’ll be ready when you need us,” Her bodyguards’ loyalty was unwavering.

 

“I know.” Nikita told him. She watched them walk away then braced herself for she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she was about to get from Michael.

 

********

 

“Come,” Michael stepped aside to let Nikita in. His invitation sounded warmer this time, heartening her.

 

Knowing he would not speak first, Nikita jumped right in, “They knew.”

 

“How?” Michael understood she was referring to his conscription.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Nikita shook her head. “They consented.”

 

“Stipulations?” Michael guessed what Nikita wasn’t telling him, reinforcing the need for heightened vigilance.

 

“They cut our time in half,” Nikita sighed. “We have three months to bring our numbers up.”

 

“We can do it,” Michael reached out to caress her cheek in encouragement, not missing the note of resignation in her voice. “We will do it.”

 

“Thank you.” Nikita grabbed his hand and held onto it like a lifeline, glad that whatever lingering resentment he must have had about his recruitment did not affect his support of her. “I guess I’m just more tired than I thought.”

 

“Why don’t you get some rest?”

 

“There’s so much…”

 

“A few hours,” Michael interrupted. “There are some things I can see to in the meantime.”

 

“Like what?” Nikita asked curiously.

 

“Reacquainting,” Michael answered succinctly.

 

“You mean you haven’t raked the system yet?”

 

“I have,” Michael confirmed. “I meant with personnel.”

 

“Ah, I see,” Nikita smiled. It was midday already and Section would be busy, especially now, with everyone wanting to substantiate the latest gossip for themselves. Michael may not have been the most liked operative in Section but he was certainly one of, if not the, most respected. If she wasn’t so physically and emotionally exhausted, Nikita would have loved to see operatives’ reactions to Michael’s reentrance into Section mainstream personally. As it was, she’d have to rely on Walter and Quinn, who she was convinced would be at the forefront of whatever happened.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Michael assured.

 

“I know,” Nikita agreed. “Walter will be glad to help, too. I’m sure he’s told anyone who’d listen by now anyway.”

 

“Probably,” The corner of Michael’s mouth twitched in amusement before he sobered. “You’ve spoken to Quinn?” Raking the system, Michael had easily found the current chain of command.

 

“Yes,” Nikita smiled faintly. “She’s with us.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” Over the two years Quinn had been second in command, Nikita had come to appreciate and rely on her contributions. She didn’t doubt the woman’s loyalty and sincerity.

 

“Good,” He accepted her assessment as Nikita usually read people well. Besides, Quinn was one of several people he’d already decided to keep an eye on, for his own reasons.

 

The mention of Quinn reminded Nikita of an integral part of her confrontation with the triumvirate. “By the way, you’re now level 9. Same as me.”

 

“At Center’s request?” The news was somewhat surprising. He’d expected level 7, the same as Walter or possibly Quinn’s level 8 at best.

 

“My request,” Nikita revealed.

 

“Why?”

 

“We’re in this together. Partners,” Nikita was adamant. Their rank and security clearance would be equal. “Besides, I have no secrets from you.” She added before giving him his updated access codes.

 

“All right,” While he didn’t show it, Michael was inwardly pleased at the development.

 

Now that that was settled, Nikita embraced Michael’s earlier suggestion, giving in to her exhaustion. “Okay. A few hours. In house.”

 

“Not the Tower?” Michael was surprised she didn’t want to retreat there.

 

“I promised Devon I’d stay in so his crew could take the rest of the day off.”

 

“I see,” Michael paused. “You could stay here. I’ve enhanced the security.”

 

“I’d love to,” Nikita couldn’t imagine a better place to rest – Michael’s bed.

 

“I’ll come for you in four hours.”

 

“Make it three,” Nikita sighed in deference to the amount of work in front of them. As Section’s leader, she couldn’t afford the rest or the perception that she needed more of it than others.

 

********

 

“Make it three,” Nikita sighed in deference to the amount of work in front of them. As Section’s leader, she couldn’t afford the rest or the perception that she needed more of it than others.

 

Michael made the most of those three hours.

 

Leaving his quarters, Michael’s first stop was Quinn. No reason to alienate the ambitious redhead by ignoring or diminishing her importance.

 

Punching in his new code, Michael watched as the door slid open to reveal a grim-faced Quinn sitting at her desk. His features schooled into a bland mask, Michael stepped down into her office upon her invitation.

 

Once the door closed behind him, Quinn abandoned the shoddy debrief she was reading and smiled in greeting, gesturing for Michael to sit in the lone chair across the desk from her.

 

“It’s good to have you back,” Quinn welcomed sincerely once he was settled..

 

“Thank you,” Michael responded cautiously.

 

“I’m just sorry for the sacrifice it entailed.” She referred to losing his son.

 

“It was necessary,” Michael divulged.

 

“Why?” Quinn’s curiosity got the best of her. Michael and Adam’s two close calls were something only Nikita and Walter had been privy to.

 

“It wasn’t a life,” He saw no harm in telling her that much.

 

“I can imagine,” Quinn nodded seriously. She may have not known about the near misses but she could picture what kind of a life the two must have had, always moving around and looking over their shoulders. What kind of life was that for a child? Changing the subject and plunging ahead, she asked, “So, what are your intentions?”

 

“I just arrived,” Michael reminded.

 

“Oh, come now. You used to have a contingency for everything,” Quinn smiled, remembering their brief working relationship while she was in Comm. “Surely you have some ideas for this place.”

 

“A few,” He finally admitted, sensing her willingness to listen.

 

********

 

After a longer visit with Quinn than expected, Michael left her office and headed for Munitions. On his way he mulled over his conversation with his and Nikita’s highest ranked subordinate.

 

Equally adept at assessing people as Nikita, Michael was inclined to endorse her opinion of Quinn. His impression matched that of his partner. He’d still keep an eye on Quinn as her competence and loyalty were critical given her current position in Section. Keeping a close eye on those around him came automatically to Michael and always would.

 

He had dropped his guard twice while in Section and it had cost him dearly. The first time he had lost his wife. The second time he had been banished from Section for his efforts.

 

He would not allow a third time.

 

Striding through Comm on his way to Walter, Michael immediately became the center of attention. Although the rumors were flying, most operatives were still unsure whether to believe in the return of the former top operative.

 

With the inevitable attrition in Section, some operatives had never met the man but were regaled with stories of his unprecedented skills and accomplishments. There were plenty of operatives left though who had either been trained by Michael and/or worked in the field with him.

 

Michael, face expressionless, ignored the openly curious glances cast his way, making eye contact with many he was familiar with and nodding to a few he knew well. Two years away, yet Section was still recognizable. Some things changed, but much did not. He’d gleaned from personnel records that quite a few operatives he’d had under his command when he was field leader were still around.

 

He’d almost made it to Walter’s area unscathed before he was waylaid by a couple of familiar faces just as he reached the open Munitions gate. An animated young man and a subdued young woman, neither of whom had any qualms about engaging their new co-leader in conversation, caught up to Michael just as he reached Munitions.

 

Technically, they had only worked with Nikita and Michael once. However, that limited contact was enough to engender their loyalty for life. Although they had some experience of it themselves, they weren’t fully aware of Michael’s incredibly reserved persona in Section and therefore saw nothing inappropriate with walking right up to him.

 

“So, it’s true,” Patrick ‘Darwin’ Donoghue grinned in greeting while Walter waited for Michael behind the counter. “The quiet man is back!”

 

“Yes,” Michael confirmed unnecessarily.

 

“Cool,” Darwin’s enthusiasm wasn’t diminished by Michael’s typically laconic reply, although he did restrain himself from slapping the older man on the back knowing that would not go over well.

 

“It’s good to have you back, sir,” Jasmine Kwong inserted before Darwin could stick his foot in his mouth.

 

“You can call me Michael,” He hated titles as much as Nikita. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked a question of his own to show his genuine interest. “Claire and Trent?”

 

“Trent’s mobile Comm on Claire’s mission,” Jasmine wasn’t surprised he knew that all of them had ended up in Section One.

 

“Good,” Michael nodded. Loyalty such as theirs should never be ignored or taken for granted. “It’ll be good to see all of you.” He added while Walter watched from the side as Michael solidified four more players for their team.

 

********

 

While Michael was reacquainting himself with Section personnel, news of his return spread like wildfire throughout the Agency. The general consensus, regardless of varied opinions about the man himself, was that this was good for Section One and by extension the Agency.

 

As Michael walked through Comm, a high ranking member of Center watched him via the classified video surveillance feed in their in-house quarters, considerably unhappy with this latest development.

 

Years of planning and Section One had been right where they’d wanted it. Section had finally been in danger of assimilation. Disenfranchisement had once upon a time been the ultimate goal, but several failures later came the discovery that assimilation would be more beneficial in the long run to consolidate power.

 

To that end, resources and personnel had been carefully cultivated through the years to be in a perfect position to take over Section One when the time came. Take over and run it not to wholly benefit Center but rather to suit a purpose, someone’s specific purpose. 

 

Philip Jones appointing his daughter as his eventual successor had been a stroke of good fortune, or so was the thought at that time. Few believed Nikita had what it took to run Section One, let alone Center.

 

In a selfish bid to ensure his daughter’s succession, Jones had found a way to eliminate any threat to her eventual ascension. Egotistical as his plans had been, they coincided with the traitor’s goals, so stopping Jones’ foolishness had never been necessary.

 

Unfortunately, the young woman had hung on and brought respectability back to the Section. Finally however, it hadn’t been enough and an ultimatum issued. Believing that the end game was finally in sight, diligence relaxed and arrogance surfaced. A costly mistake.

 

Biding time until Nikita Jones stumbled irreparably had eventually become the best strategy. But the infuriating woman had seemingly uncovered a permanent solution. Private sims had long shown that Nikita Jones and Michael Samuelle running Section together would be too effective to undermine covertly. Although he had been the best operative in the Agency, no argument had been made against Samuelle’s ordered cancelation for that very reason.

 

By bringing him aboard, Nikita had potentially discovered a way to save her sovereignty and foil carefully laid out plans.

 

Failure so close to the finish was unacceptable. There had to be a way to salvage all that preparation.

 

********

 

Once Jasmine finally managed to drag Darwin away, guessing that Michael might want to converse with Walter alone, Michael covered the few paces remaining to reach the Munitions counter.

 

Conscious of all the eyes focused on them, Walter stepped out from behind his favorite post and shook Michael’s hand, all the physical contact the younger man would allow.

 

“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.” Walter’s wide grin threatened to split his face. “I should have known you’d find your way here when Sugar needed it most.”

 

Michael grimaced inwardly but gave no outward reaction to Walter’s innocent but loaded statement. At least now he knew concretely that Walter played no part in Nikita’s deception. He asked almost rhetorically, “Where else could I be?”

 

Sobering, Walter remembered the sacrifice Nikita had told him Michael had made in order to return. “I’m sorry you had to come back alone.”

 

“It was necessary,” Michael repeated the same answer he’d given Quinn, ignoring the ache it caused.

 

“Yeah,” Walter understood. “At least he has a chance at a normal life.”

 

“I hope so,” Years of experience kept him somewhat skeptical.

 

Purposely changing the subject, Walter asked, “Where’s Nikita?”

 

“Resting.” Michael was grateful for the change of direction.

 

“For how long?”

 

“A few hours.”

 

“Wanna grab a bite in the meantime?” Somewhere outside and away from prying eyes and ears went unspoken. No missions were due to go out or come back within the next couple of hours and Walter had a lot to tell. Quinn was capable of handling whatever came up in Nikita’s ‘absence,’ as she’d proven several times before. If not, Nikita was in reach and both Michael and Walter had their cell phones.

 

“Why not?” Michael responded with studied casualness. This was probably his last chance to get away from Section without the bodyguards he was sure would shortly be assigned to him. Besides, he’d learned all he would from section’s computers. Walter was his best bet for learning things that weren’t in Section’s databases. Things that shouldn’t be overheard by human or electronic ears.

 

********

 

Two hours later, Michael and Walter returned from their jaunt outside. By the time they cleared Section’s entrance, ideas had cemented into tangible designs.

 

The requested three hours up, Michael left Walter at his usual post and made his way towards his current quarters. As he passed systems, Michael was stopped by Devon, head of Nikita’s bodyguard detail.

 

“Yes?” Michael inquired politely, with no ill will apparent.

 

“I’m sorry…” Devon began, intent on apologizing for his actions even though he had merely been following his commander’s instructions.

 

“It’s not necessary,” Michael interrupted. “You were under orders.”

 

“Still,” Devon paused, wanting to clear the air as he would now be ultimately responsible for Michael’s safety as well. “I hope this will not affect our future working relationship.” He stated as diplomatically as possible.

 

“It won’t,” Michael confirmed, alleviating the other man’s concern. After all, he knew all about following orders.

 

“As far as security detail, “Devon broached the other reason for which he sought out Michael during his downtime. “Are there any personnel you’d prefer?” Devon had found that things run smoother if those being guarded had a good rapport with those doing the guarding. He had no doubt Michael would choose operatives with the right capabilities and sufficient skills.

 

“Configuration?” Michael asked.

 

“Same as Nikita’s,” Devon answered. “Three teams of two.”

 

“Mentz, Snow and Donoghue for primaries.” Michael had already ascertained from Walter that he would be glad to spare ‘Darwin’ Donoghue. It was nice to have company in Munitions, but Walter could still handle the job solo. Darwin wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Michael and he was ready for the responsibility. “I’ll leave their partners up to you.”

 

“Sounds good,” Devon was familiar with all three but somewhat surprised at Darwin’s inclusion. “I’ll take care of Donoghue.” Even though he trusted Michael’s judgment he would tutor the young operative until he was sure Darwin was suitable. That was Devon’s job.

 

“All right,” Michael agreed. In Devon’s position he would do the same.

 

“Starting in twelve hours?” Devon suggested.

 

“Fine,” Michael hadn’t planned on leaving Section any sooner.

 

Michael left Devon to take care of the details and once more headed for his quarters – and Nikita.

 

********

 

Walking into his quarters with his usual stealth, Michael found Nikita still asleep. Recalling the tired lines he’d noticed across her face earlier, he was loathe to wake her, wanting her to get as much rest as possible.

 

Although a light sleeper, out of necessity rather than inclination, Nikita’s slumber was nevertheless undisturbed by Michael’s arrival, a testament to how safe she felt around him.

 

Taking the opportunity presented, Michael watched her sleep for a few moments, steeling himself against the long road ahead. Knowing they had precious little time to waste, he sighed inaudibly and proceeded to rouse Nikita, albeit gently.

 

“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael’s accent caressed her senses even as his fingers gently stroked her face.

 

“Hi,” Nikita’s eyes opened slowly as she luxuriated in the sensations his feather light touch created. “Three hours up already?”

 

“Yes,” His regret was audible. “We should talk.”

 

Sensing the chance to take advantage of an opening, Nikita extended an invitation, “Perhaps we can discuss strategy…here.”

 

“I don’t think so,” The earlier warmth that colored his voice was gone, his shields slammed into place. “There’s much to be done.”

 

Hurt flared briefly in her gaze before composure returned, “Of course.” She quickly alighted from his bed and started discussing matters at hand. “I’ve already secured you new quarters.” She called over her shoulder as she straightened her clothes in front of the mirror.

 

“Where?” Michael asked, suspecting he knew already the answer.

 

“The Tower.” She quickly elaborated, “I had it extended then divided. Completely separate, even the entrances.”

 

“That’s not a good idea,” Michael turned her down gently but firmly.

 

“Why?”

 

“You’re still Operations.” He paused before adding, “It would not look good.”

 

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” She knew he was right, but she couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. She turned back to him after a minute, all business, the hurt replaced by determination. “Perhaps Madeline’s old quarters? They’ve been renovated and Quinn decided to keep her own.”

 

“That would be fine,” Michael was relieved she hadn’t argued any further.

 

********

 

Somewhere in Center, a smile lit the features of the traitor watching the hidden surveillance feed from Michael’s old quarters. Could it be? A crack in the supposedly solid foundation of the partnership? Maybe Michael wasn’t as content in his new role as he appeared?

 

********

 

Quickly acclimating himself to Section again, it didn’t take long for Michael to catch up with everything on pad. In less than a month, Nikita and Michael looked as if they had been running Section together for years rather than a short few weeks. Thanks to his considerable skills, Nikita no longer felt like she was on her own.

 

Nikita had often joked to herself, without much humor, that it was too bad Section’s cloning experiments had failed for she often felt that if there were two of her, she might actually keep pace without feeling so exhausted all the time.  She didn’t intend to slack off on her duties, but it was a comfort to know that if she faltered the only person she really trusted to run Section was there to back her up.

 

Quinn was a competent enough second-in-command. However, Nikita did not have the confidence in her that Paul Wolfe had had in Madeline. Whatever their faults, the two ran section as two halves of a whole.

 

The current leader of Section One may have hated her predecessor at times, but she always respected the job he did. Considering the troublemaker she had been from the start, she often wondered why he just didn’t cancel her himself. Perhaps a modicum of the compassion she accused him of lacking had been there after all.

 

As for Paul Wolfe’s longtime second-in-command, she had been a different story altogether. Nikita still regretted that she couldn’t sway Mick, well her father really, to revise his opinion that Madeline no longer had a place in the Agency. Madeline may have been even more ruthless than Paul, but everything she did had been for the benefit of Section, or at least what she believed was the greater good.

 

Whatever their flaws, they had been a formidable team, keeping the world from destroying itself again and again. If only they hadn’t become obsessed with keeping their power at all cost things would be very different now. Or would they? The bad blood readily apparent between her father and the former Operations had Nikita questioning whether the former would have ever been objective when it came to Paul Wolfe and anyone who stood beside him.

 

Irrespective of the circumstances that led her to assume command of Section, Nikita had vowed to run the organization to the best of her abilities. Rather than getting easier, it had been getting harder and lonelier every day. But now, her other half had come home.

 

Shrugging off the twinge of remorse she still felt at her deceit, Nikita resolutely returned to matters at hand. As she had done more than once in the last few weeks, Nikita chased away her guilt. Michael had told her he would be back, she had merely moved up his timetable.

 

Dismissing her melancholy, Nikita planned her next move, one that would surprise anyone who knew her.

 

********

 

Nikita had many virtues, including doggedness. Of course, sometimes that same willfulness got her into trouble. Maturity and experience only went so far.

 

Later, she decided that she should have seen this conversation coming. At the time, she had been ill-prepared, something she subsequently guessed Michael had counted on.

 

“Good morning,” An already seated Nikita greeted Michael with a small smile as he walked into the remodeled ‘breakfast room’ Paul and Madeline had shared for so many years.

 

Nikita and Quinn had rarely shared their morning meal here, another testament to the incompleteness of that relationship. Conversely,  this was already the fifth straight morning she and Michael had dined together. A good indicator of the progress of their professional and personal relationship, or so she thought.

 

“Good morning,” Michael returned rather formally as he sat down, his tone setting off a flurry of nervous butterflies in Nikita’s stomach.

 

“Everything all right?” Nikita eventually asked.

 

“Of course,” Michael ignored the breakfast selections in front of him.

 

Mentally preparing herself as Michael’s typical Section speak did nothing to ally her apprehensiveness, Nikita forged ahead, “Is there something you’d care to discuss?”

 

“I found an anomaly in reviewing current Section personnel.”

 

“Yes?” Nikita prodded.

 

“My cancelation two years ago.”

 

“What do you mean?” Nikita was confused by the question. Surely he had understood the chain of events that had surrounded the purge and her part in the aftermath.

“Who ordered my cancelation? Jones?” Michael paused, purposely using Nikita’s late father’s surname in an effort to keep the more personal aspects out of it, at least for the time being. “Or you?”

“What…”

 

“I understand the abeyance mission as a cover for escape,” Michael clarified, wanting no misunderstanding. “I’m merely questioning its necessity.”

 

“Of course I didn’t order your cancelation. How can you even think that?” Nikita asked unbelievingly, pushing her own food away, her appetite gone. “I took advantage of the situation to free you.”

 

“Took advantage?” Michael echoed mildly. “Of the situation, or of me?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nikita snapped, floored by the implication. Where is he going with this? Surely he can’t still believe…

“I believed you didn’t want me dead,” Michael replied bluntly. “I also believed you didn’t want me in Section.”

 

“I thought you’d want to be free.”

 

“Without you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?” Michael asked, adding gently, “Because that’s what you would have wanted?”

 

“I couldn’t leave,” Nikita shook her head, avoiding the question.

 

“Learning the reason behind your recruitment took priority,” Michael stated rather than asked.

 

“No.” Nikita denied, implying that he should have better understood her motives. “Yes, I wanted to know. But that wasn’t the primary reason.”

 

“Wasn’t it?” Michael’s tone remained surprisingly mild despite his doubt.

 

“I stayed behind to ensure your continued survival.” Her implication that he needed protection from both his enemies and the Agency was clear.

 

“I would have been fine,” Michael countered.

 

“There had already been two attempts…” Nikita’s voice remained neutral while her blue eyes flashed in anger at having to defend her actions again.

 

“We survived without help,” Michael paused, struggling to keep his tone conversational even though his next words pained him. “And without Adam, I was considerably more mobile.”

 

“You were the one who always said we couldn’t escape Section. I had hoped that by staying behind at least one of us could have been free.” Nikita stated sadly, looking away. In the end they were both trapped, something she still found difficult to accept even though she was beginning to realize that Michael had known it all along. “You’re still skeptical.”

 

“Yes,” Michael admitted.

 

“Why?”

 

“You never wanted me in the Perch,” Michael’s answer stunned her yet again. “Personally or professionally.”

 

“Why would you think that?” Nikita was genuinely at a loss.

 

“You questioned my decisions when I was in command,” Michael reminded Nikita of her attitude towards him in the past. “You weren’t enthusiastic about my turns in the Perch.”

 

“That was different.”

 

“How?”

 

“I wasn’t completely aware of the politics and dynamics between Section One and the rest of the Agency.”

 

“Or perhaps my time in command tainted your opinion of my suitability for the Perch,” Michael presented an alternative scenario. “Which facilitated your decision to free me rather than recommend advancement.”

 

“The cancelation order came from Center,” Nikita denied the thinly veiled accusation.

 

“Because of my continued protection?” Michael questioned.

 

“I-I’m not sure…” Nikita faltered, reluctant to answer.

 

“You asked me to put a stop to preferential treatment.” Michael pushed, bringing up their long ago conversation But, if you treat me differently, that’s unfair to the others and to me, Nikita had said after Michael had taken her out of the field before the mission against Bergomi. “Was that a signal to discontinue breaking protocol on your behalf because Center was watching?”

 

“No,” The denial was vehement. “Your principles were never the issue.”

 

“Then why did you never confront your father for ordering the cancelation of the person who protected you regardless of the consequences?” This part was personal.

 

“I didn’t agree, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take advantage of the opportunity on your behalf.” He picks now to hash this out? Nikita thought even as she evaded the question.

 

“Regardless of my personal desire?” Michael let her temporarily dodge his question.

 

“You used to hold dreams of freedom inside,” A wistful look came over her face as Nikita recalled a conversation they’d had in Dingman’s Hollow shortly before the evaluations and purge.

 

“Freedom with you,” Michael countered softly.

 

This isn’t freedom, suddenly echoed in Nikita’s head, a phrase she’d used before her recruitment by Center and return to Section. She shook her head softly, “That was never a possibility.”

 

“I know.” Michael’s voice held a tinge of sadness. “You should have asked.”

 

“You never did,” Nikita parried. How many times had Michael hurt her in order to keep her alive or make decisions on her behalf without consulting her?

 

“Something you resented,” Michael reminded.

 

“At the time yes, “Nikita admitted. “I was much more self-righteous then. About many things.”

 

Michael’s features softened momentarily at her indirect apology before he reiterated his earlier question. “You liberated me from Section despite cancelation mandated by your father.”

 

“Yes,” Nikita visibly winced at the reminder of one of her father’s cruelest decisions, ostensibly on her behalf.

 

“You never…questioned his decision?”

 

“I was afraid to,” Nikita confessed. “He believed you were dead and that I didn’t care. I didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt that. By the time he learned the truth things happened so fast, there wasn’t time.”

 

“He didn’t approve of the current regime.” There was no need to specify who.

 

“Why?”

 

“He wanted change.” She still refused to admit her understanding.

 

“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael knew she was being purposefully obtuse.

 

“My father never liked Paul Wolfe. Finally, he disagreed with Operations’ methodology and cleaned house.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

She sighed and gave him the answer he was looking for. “He wanted to clear a path for me.”

 

“And you let him,” Michael finished for her. He understood how painful the discovery of the truth must have been on her. For Nikita, realizing that a map was carved out for her in other people’s blood would have been devastating.

 

“I didn’t want to send you away, but I knew any recommendation I made on your behalf would fall on deaf ears,” Nikita defended, still afraid to look at the dead bodies her father had left in his wake on her behalf in the light of day. Not only did she cast Michael adrift, but she had done it in the cruelest way possible, hoping his disgust at her and Section sent him far away. But she should have known he would return for her as well as for Adam. She had, mission or no mission, done the same for him and would have again. “I didn’t have a choice in any of it. That much was made perfectly clear to me in the beginning.”

 

“When was the beginning?” He needed to be sure his perceptions had been on target. Nikita’s words in that forest seemingly a lifetime ago had hurt. Not so much because he believed them, but because after all they’d shared, it showed that she’d known him so poorly.

 

“Lyon,” Nikita sighed.

 

“Before or after the night on the barge?” He’d suspected the former for a time, but personal sanity necessitated belief in the latter. A niggling doubt however had never gone completely away.

 

“After,” Nikita confirmed, ignorant of the inner turmoil the uncertainty elicited in her companion for a while. She had never been privy to his doubts, hadn’t known he had harbored any. “Guess my father saw our… reunion as his chance to bring me back inside. He didn’t know that by the time Mick came to me, I had already decided to find a way back in anyway.”

 

“What did he want?”  Michael knew better than to ask if she had been given a choice.

 

“I was to observe and report to Mick. And I wasn’t to expect any help from Center.” Nikita saw no reason to hold back the information now and answered, remembering. “Mick seemed so naïve to Section ways that I should have suspected him as a cover, but I was too busy trying to maintain my own cover to delve into that until much later.”

 

“Did your father ever express regret for not interfering on your behalf?” Michael was curious, although having met the man, he could imagine the answer.

 

“No,” A sad, faraway look stole into Nikita’s gaze momentarily as she remembered her father’s answer, ‘You had to be strong and stand on your own feet,’ he’d told her.  “He just said it was important that I succeed on my own.”  My own two feet indeed, Nikita barely suppressed the urge to snort derisively.  Had it not been for the shoulders of the man sitting across from her and a few others, she’d have long been dead.

 

“You survived,” Michael comforted.

 

“Not without help.” A hint of bitterness colored her voice as she continued, “Mick wasn’t the only naïve one. I thought I was facilitating real change.” She sighed at her past foolish idealism. Section could never stray too far from its path, not if it was to remain effective. Even now, in command, she sometimes had to make decisions she found abhorrent, but necessary. “Eventually I found out what was coming down, so I did what I had to do to protect those I cared about. You’ve done that many times yourself.”

 

“Yes, I have,” Michael acknowledged, ending his interrogation. “I’m sorry Nikita, but I had to be certain you saw the big picture.”

 

“Yes, I did finally see it. Did you?” Nikita turned the tables on him.

 

“I knew there were internal situations and that you were involved.”

 

“When?”

 

“Your apparent affiliation with Red Cell confirmed it,” Michael avoided providing an exact accounting.

 

“Why did you come with me then?” Nikita asked. “Why make our recapture so easy? You had resources.”

 

“I was wary of compromising your assignment.”

 

“You knew I was on a mission?”

 

“Yes,” Michael confirmed. “You wouldn’t align yourself with Red Cell otherwise. I assumed our liberation from Section was your end game as a final test of the current leadership.”

 

“You were right.” Nikita commended then sighed, adding, “I wasn’t at all sure Center would intervene on my behalf. I meant what I said after our capture.”

 

“I know,” Michael whispered. It was the reason he was so shaken when Operations came in to induce rather than cancel him. He had thought at the time that Nikita had been double crossed and hung out to dry. He couldn’t have lived with her death. “So did I.”

 

“I know,” Nikita affirmed their mutual comprehension.

 

“Were Operations’ and Madeline’s fates sealed by then as well?”

 

“More or less. I had hoped more of my recommendations would be accepted, including Madeline’s transfer. But, of course, the only recommendations of mine which were accepted were those that Center agreed with in the first place,” Nikita replied. “Yet another reason I stayed behind.”

 

“To find the truth behind it all,” Michael surmised.

 

“Yes,” Nikita stated sadly. “And I was wrong,” she admitted, referring to her once unyielding desire to look under every rock, consequences be damned. “There are things worse than not knowing.”

 

Michael was glad she’d learned the lesson, but regretted that the cost had been so high to her. “I’m sorry the truth didn’t set you free.”

 

“So am I.” Nikita smiled sadly at his echoing of a phrase she’d often repeated but only recently realized as untrue, at least in their subterranean world. “But there’s no one I would rather be with, trapped or not.”

 

A distant, somewhat troubled look crossed Michael’s countenance at her statement, so fleetingly that Nikita missed it, before he uttered the words she was hoping to hear. “Neither would I.”

 

But someone else, ensconced comfortably in Center with the benefit of rewind, slow motion and pause saw what Nikita failed to notice and planned accordingly.

 

********

 

Once the grilling over their past was over Nikita and Michael settled down to current situations and potential hot spots, growing more at ease as the session wore on.  Afterwards, they went their separate ways, crossing paths several times throughout the course of the day. Each meeting had been friendlier and friendlier.

 

As late night turned into early morning, Nikita found a probable lull in activity for the following day. There’d be nothing on pad that Quinn wouldn’t be able to handle. Deciding that this was a rare opportunity she’d be a fool not to take advantage of, Nikita made arrangements to all but guarantee a few hours of much-needed downtime for herself and Michael.

 

Nikita checked Michael’s status and saw that he had recently logged out. Emboldened by their renewed closeness she sought him out in his new quarters, certain he would still be awake.

 

“Nikita,” Michael greeted her clad in black tank top and sweats. If he was surprised at this late night visit, he didn’t show it.

 

“Michael,” She smiled, plunging right in. “It seems as if we’ll have some downtime tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, I saw.” He gave nothing away.

 

“Would you like to spend it together?” To anyone looking, Nikita seemed apprehensive and unsure when she asked.

 

“We can leave Section together,” Michael replied. “But I need more time. I’m not ready yet.”

 

“Of course, I understand,” Nikita did not hide a look of disappointment. Before leaving, she asked curiously, “Why leave together then?”

 

“The appearance of unity is paramount,” Michael explained.

 

“I see,” Nikita didn’t know what else to say. She had expected a different answer. “Perhaps another time?”

 

“Perhaps,” Michael allowed.

 

“Well, goodnight then,” Nikita bade, a look of defeat clearly visible.

 

“Goodnight,” An expressionless Michael watched her leave.

 

The short but meaningful conversation went unseen until the following morning at which time the Center’s highest ranking mole watched the taped feed in the comfort of a luxurious home office.

 

********

 

As planned, Michael and Nikita left Section for their joint downtime. Whispers and rumors flew as operatives watched them leave together. 

 

Sharing a ride in Nikita’s limousine, operated by her regular driver, they were followed  in an SUV by their preferred personal guards –  Devon and Alex for Nikita, Darwin and Claire for Michael.

 

As both knew their union was just an illusion, they planned their downtime accordingly. They would separate, each having plans for the afternoon ahead. 

 

Arriving at the predetermined location, a quiet corner of a busy public parking lot, they were met by Jasmine who was standing next to another armored limousine.

 

Michael had intended to send Darwin and Claire with Jasmine. He’d drive to his destination alone in the SUV while the other three kept up the charade by staying away from Section. The former recruits, now the leaders’ most trusted operatives had other plans.

 

Once Nikita and her guards drove off, Michael prepared to embark on his own side mission, determined to go alone. Nikita was confident in her two guards, but trust was still very much an anathema to Michael. It was given even more reluctantly than his love.

 

“Sir,” Darwin addressed Michael before he could climb into the SUV.

 

“Yes?” Michael turned to him guessing at his intentions and prepared to wave him off. Amusedly, he saw Claire and Jasmine flank the younger man, showing their agreement with what he was about to say.

 

“We think you’re making a mistake.” Darwin, well versed in Section speak, pleaded their case.

 

“Why?” Michael asked.

 

“Your activities won’t be reported,” The young operatives understood Michael’s motivation. “To any one.” Their loyalty was unmistakable.

 

With the briefest of hesitations, Michael made his decision, “All right.” He nodded, hoping he would not regret his choice in the difficult days and weeks ahead.

 

Claire parked the SUV then got in to the front passenger seat next to Darwin who’d serve as driver while Jasmine sat with Michael in the back.

 

********

 

Still vaguely unsettled by the previous night’s exchange, Nikita nevertheless moved on with her plans, directing the driver to her destination.  She pushed her misgivings to the side until she had a chance to examine them better. It seemed that “later” had become a staple of her vocabulary since the moment she took command. 

 

Right now, she had intel to gather.

 

As she sat in the back of the reinforced limousine, waiting for clearance from the armed guard stationed at the gatehouse, Nikita contemplated her fishing expedition  Since she and Michael were not spending any of their downtime together, she had more than enough time to collect the information needed.

 

Nikita understood why Michael declined her invitation, she couldn’t begrudge him his reasoning. Still, she missed the personal component of their relationship, even more now that he was so near.

 

Once her car cleared the gates and drove up to the mansion inside, Nikita shook everything else off to concentrate her energies on the upcoming meeting. She’d long debated whether or not to announce her impending arrival ahead of time. She finally settled on keeping her approach a secret from her host until she was just miles away.

 

She knew her quarry would be at home. She’d kept up covert surveillance through outside sources and contacts since the violent end of their Section forced connection three years ago.

 

Even after all this time, Nikita regretted some of her actions at the time. She hadn’t lied to Michael in the aftermath. Ever since she underwent Gelmanization, until she had, with help, completely purged it from her system over a year later, Nikita had found herself questioning some of her decisions and behavior.

 

The fact still was that even after she had been initially deprogrammed with Michael, Walter and Birkoff’s help, Nikita hadn’t been her old self  She had committed acts under orders by both Section and Center that, as her old self, she would have risked cancelation rather than obey.

 

Calling on the innocent she once allowed to go free dredged up one such act. Even now Nikita flinched when she remembered killing Section operatives, some of whom she’d worked closely with in the past, to cover up the escape.

 

Shoving the reminder into a part of her she seldom dared visit, Nikita stepped out of the limousine and was immediately greeted by the owner of the estate.

 

“Nikita!” He exclaimed, a grin stretching his features. Although not the name she’d used when they’d met, he’d later discovered through his contacts who her and her partner really were. Shocked as he had been when he’d gotten her call less than an hour ago, the notification had given him some time to recover his equilibrium.

 

“Helmut,” Nikita smiled.

 

********

 

While Nikita was meeting with an old friend, Michael prepared to meet an old foe.

 

Unlike Nikita, Michael had decided the best approach was one of stealth. He wanted to catch his quarry unawares. Surprise was often the best weapon, and Michael was nothing if not a good strategist.

 

Insisting this time that his three earnest sentinels remain behind, Michael left them just outside the modest apartment building that was now his former adversary’s home. To placate them he donned a com unit and told them to guard the perimeter as that would be the only point of trouble if it arose.

 

The man in question had fallen on hard times since last seen by anyone in Section. Of course, most believed the man dead – treason against Section carried a punishment of death.

 

But he hadn’t been canceled. The irony of one Section ghost finding another didn’t escape Michael and he remembered the brief wry smile he’d allowed after the discovery that yet another canceled Section operative was very much alive.

 

Michael would have been content to let the man go. He had deserved a quiet retirement for the almost two decades of admirable service he had provided for the Agency.

 

In his last moments in Section he had been taunted by Madeline. She had been confident in her belief that even his numerous influential friends would not be able to help him out the mess he’d left himself in.

 

Little did Madeline, or any of them for that matter, know at the time that the man’s actions hadn’t been motivated by a thirst for power or greed. On the contrary, his actions had been dictated by Center.

 

In exchange for this one last undercover assignment, he’d been promised leadership of Section One. However, as loyal as he was to his master, he would not kill his own in cold blood. Because of that and the fact that the various Section personnel that were being tested failed to act according to Jones’ specifications, Jones had remained in the shadows, unwilling to reveal himself as the orchestrator of the seeming coup.

 

As punishment for failure to reach end game, Jones set him free with barely a modicum of protection, believing the man would soon be dead – a victim of his many enemies. But the man surprised Jones, succeeding in not only derailing Jones’ plan for Section but staying alive even long after Jones’ death.

 

The man had lived in anonymity for the last five years, but now Michael needed something from him. And refusal was not an option.

 

So complacent was he, that the man no longer bothered with security. No need to go to all that trouble when the only man who could you find you was dead himself, or so he thought. Besides, the meager stipend he received from the fund that had been set up upon his release was barely enough to live on. And he couldn’t exactly advertise his skills and expertise.

 

When the door to his fifth floor apartment flew open as he was enjoying a cup of tea in his kitchen, he was too stunned by the identity of his visitor to do much other than stand up in alarm.

 

Striding in with his gun extended, Michael quickly and efficiently inspected the small studio apartment. Satisfied that they were alone, he calmly walked towards the kitchen area, gun still trained on his opponent.

 

“Michael,” The apartment’s owner identified his intruder immediately. “How did you find me?”

 

“Perhaps I’m not as incompetent as you thought.” Michael paused before deliberately addressing the older man by his first name to signify their respective positions. “Egran.”

 

********

 

“Helmut,” Nikita smiled, ignoring his obviously counterfeit enthusiasm. She wasn’t  surprised that he’d gleaned her real name. He clearly had resources, that much was obvious by the fact that he was alive and well. Between the fortune his recently deceased father left him and the contacts he’d no doubt cultivated during his years with Interpol, he was fairly insulated from those in Red Cell who still wished him harm.

 

Helmut Volker hadn’t been in danger from the Agency or Interpol for almost two years. Green-listing the German had been one of Nikita’s first decisions once she took over the Perch.

 

“I never thought I’d see you gain,” Helmut’s suspicion of her motives did not prevent him from inviting Nikita in.

 

“Neither did I,” Nikita admitted frankly. At her insistence, they were alone in the most private room in his house, their bodyguards just outside the door.

 

A discreet knock at the door momentarily relieved the awkwardness they both felt. Upon Helmut’s approval, a servant came in to serve tea and coffee, leaving the tray behind to the side of the desk within easy reach for refills.

 

Declining his offer for anything else, Nikita took a sip of the flavored brew Helmut had poured and sat back in the plush guest chair while Helmut helped himself to a cup of coffee wishing for something stronger. Nikita’s arrival had brought forth painful memories. Though not entirely her fault (he had been the one to insist on marriage after all), their long ago meeting had been the catalyst for the new life he’d had to create for himself.

 

Once they were both settled, Helmut broke the somewhat uncomfortable silence, a testament to Nkita’s learned patience and skills. Once, she would have been the one to quickly break the silence, now she understood the judiciousness  of it.

 

Helmut knew that Nikita was still in the game, that she was now in charge of the organization that she had reluctantly worked for when they’d first met. He also knew that she was the one responsible for extricating him from the trouble he’d been in with both Interpol and the Agency after he’d prevented the Hague bombing. What he didn’t know was what she wanted from him now, more than three years after their last encounter.

 

“So, what brings you here?” Helmut finally asked, with no small amount of trepidation. He would always be grateful to her for saving his life, but any other feelings he’d harbored had long since dissipated. He now had a family of his own, a wife and infant daughter who were fortuitously visiting his in-laws.

 

He just hoped that this impromptu meeting did not mean that he would never get to see them again.

 

********

 

While Helmut was questioning his safety, Petrosian questioned his continuing existence.

 

Michael’s hand on the gun was rock steady and still pointed at the former KGB colonel’s heart.  The fact that he had not been shot immediately alleviated some of his concern. Until he remembered Michael’s interrogation skills. The younger man’s pointed barb in response to his question caused further concern.

 

Having lost the considerable patience he had possessed while undercover all those years once he was thrown out of the very organization he’d devoted his life to, Petrosian decided to get this – whatever it was – over with quickly.

 

“What do you want?” Petrosian asked in heavily accented English.

 

“Sit down, please.” Michael’s tone was cordial even though his gun was still trained on the other man.

 

Having little choice, Petrosian did as he was told. Setting the chair he’d knocked over in his haste to stand up a few moments before upright, he sat down heavily.

 

Surprising the Russian, Michael holstered his weapon and sat down in the closest chair at the small square table.

 

Raising an eyebrow, Petrosian inquired, “This is not to be an interrogation?” Petrosian was aware of agency politics. Had to be in order to stay one step ahead all this time in hiding.  He knew very well what Michael’s current role in the organization was. He was just surprised that Michael had settled for second in command.

 

“No,” Michael hid his amusement at the fear emanating from the man beside him.

 

“So, why you are here?” Now that he thought about it Petrosian realized that had Michael meant him harm, he would have sent a team, not come himself for such a low level retrieval. He also suddenly understood that whatever Michael wanted, confidentiality was a part of it. He intuited that this meeting was for no one else’s eyes or ears.

 

Michael watched the various expressions and emotions flit across Petrosian’s face. Once he was satisfied Petrosian comprehended the situation, he answered the man’s question,

 

“What do you think?” Michael wanted to ascertain just how much Petrosian was still privy to before he gave him any answers.

 

“Past incompetency aside,” Petrosian offered a smile, “If you had wanted me dead, I would be. I do not think you are here to take me back either,” He spoke his thoughts aloud. “You want something from me.”

 

“Yes,” Michael confirmed. Petrosian’s statements attested to the former operative’s continued connections. He certainly knew Michael was back in Section. Even though he’d been relatively alone and on the run, he was still very much in the loop. All the better for Michael’s purposes.

 

“What is it?” Displaying bravado, Petrosian added, “And why should I help you?”

 

 

********

 

“So, what brings you here?” Helmut finally asked, with no small amount of trepidation. He would always be grateful to her for saving his life, but any other feelings he’d harbored had long since dissipated. He now had a family of his own, a wife and infant daughter who were fortuitously visiting his in-laws.

 

He just hoped that this impromptu meeting did not mean that he would never get to see them again.

 

“I need your help,” Nikita answered his question.

 

“With what?” Whatever resources he had, surely hers were better. There had to be more to it.

 

Reading his apprehensiveness, Nikita decided to ease his mind as he would be much more useful if he volunteered rather than be forced into service. “If you agree to help, I’d be very grateful. If you don’t there will be no repercussions.”

 

“I didn’t…” Helmut protested even though the thought of possible consequences for refusing did cross his mind.

 

“It’s all right,” Nikita interrupted. “If I were you, I’d be worried, too. However, I can assure you that that your contribution will be confidential and after I leave here you won’t see me again.”

 

“No repercussions?”

 

“No, I have other means, it would just take longer. Professionally, I’d make do.” Nikita reiterated her position then delivered shrewdly, “Personally, I’d be deeply disappointed.”

 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Helmut capitulated, the calculated blow having found its mark. He believed he could say no, she’d continue green-listing him regardless. But he did owe Nikita his life. “What do you need?”

 

“Intel.” Nikita replied succinctly.

 

“What kind?”

 

“Confidential,” Nikita warned. “This conversation never happened.”

 

“Of course,” Helmut hadn’t thought otherwise. “My staff and I will forget you as soon as you leave.”

“Thank you,” Nikita was aware of Helmut’s staffs’ loyalty to him and was in no doubt of his loyalty to her. “A former colleague of  yours at Interpol,” Nikita began. “He is now at the Agency.” She did not see the need to fill Helmut in on the position his former colleague held at Center. If Helmut didn’t already know, there was no need for him to learn it now.

 

“You’re not worried my information would be obsolete?”

 

“No,” Nikita explained. “I have his file. I’m interested in your opinion of him, professional and personal.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Etienne Lacroix.” Nikita waited for his reaction.

 

“The triumvirate member?”

 

“Yes.” Good. He’s as up to date as anticipated, Nikita thought. The more current his knowledge on Lacroix, the better informed his opinion.

 

“Well…” Helmut began.

 

********

 

“Past incompetency aside,” Petrosian offered a smile, “If you had wanted me dead, I would be. I do not think you are here to take me back either,” He spoke his thoughts aloud. “You want something from me.”

 

“Yes,” Michael confirmed. Petrosian’s statements attested to the former operative’s continued connections. He certainly knew Michael was back in Section. Even though he’d been relatively alone and on the run, he was still very much in the loop. All the better for Michael’s purposes.

 

“What is it?” Displaying bravado, Petrosian added, “And why should I help you?”

 

“Which answer would you prefer first?” Michael asked, amused at the other’s man bluster even in his obviously disadvantageous position.

 

“What do you want?” Curiosity won out over selfishness, a point in his favor.

 

“Intel.”

 

“About what?” Petrosian was intrigued. What relevant information could he possible have that Michael didn’t?

 

“Not what,” Michael clarified. “Whom.”

 

Petrosian frowned, “I do not understand.”

 

“While you were undercover in the KGB you developed a…business relationship with a certain former CIA operative.”

 

“I developed…business relationships with several CIA operatives,” The cagey Russian allowed.

 

“I’m only interested in one operative.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Daniel O’Neill.”

 

“Ah,” Petrosian smiled wolfishly. “The current leader of Center’s triumvirate.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Surely you must have access to his file.”

 

“The triumvirates’ files are sealed,” Michael kept his expression blank.

 

“So?” Petrosian snorted. “You have nobody to, what’s the word…hack the files?”

 

“That’s irrelevant,” Michael neither confirmed nor denied the assertion.

 

“Again, I do not understand,” The former operative admitted frankly, irritated at the less than forthcoming Frenchman.

 

“I want your personal as well as professional opinion,” Michael explained.

 

“What do I get in exchange?”

 

“A better life,” Michael purposely kept his answer vague and at the same time echoed Petrosian’s promise to Nikita when he had briefly been in charge of Section all those years ago.

 

Tired of his mediocre existence, Petrosian decided to take a chance and grab the opportunity presented, “All right. What do you want to know about him?”

 

********

 

Their side missions completed earlier than projected, Michael and Nikita met up at the same spot from which they’d parted just a few hours before.

 

By mutual agreement they decided to take advantage of the two hours they still had left. They quickly agreed to a light dinner, and Nikita instructed her driver on where to go.

 

With their respective bodyguards sitting at nearby tables, the two sat down to share a meal at their favorite restaurant. The site of many past outings, Mario’s brought forth many memories, both good and bad.

 

Although some of the staff had changed, those that had been around when they first started coming remembered them well. The striking duo was not easy to forget.

 

Alerted to their arrival by his longtime Maitre d’, the owner/chef came out to see to the couple personally.

 

“Mario,” Nikita smiled in greeting while Michael nodded.

 

“It’s very good to see you,” Mario’s heavily accented English was perfectly understandable.  “It’s been a long time, no? Two years, I think.”

 

“Something like that,” Nikita confirmed.

 

“I was transferred,” Michael supplied a plausible explanation for his long absence.

 

“And I didn’t feel like coming here alone,” Nikita added truthfully.

 

“Ah, of course,” Mario nodded sagely. “But, now you’re here to stay?” He looked to Michael. It had been plain to anyone who saw them in the restaurant, especially that last time they’d been there, how much in love they were. Now, Mario thought he detected a distance between them. He shrugged it off to the separation, sure their previous closeness would reestablish itself as time went on.

 

“Yes,” Michael shot a brief glance towards Nikita before answering.

 

“Eccellente!” Mario exclaimed in his native tongue. “In celebration and hopes of seeing you both again regularly, today will be my treat.”

 

“That’s not…” Nikita was about to decline the offer, neither she nor Michael much in particularly high spirits.

 

“Nonsense,” Mario interrupted. “I insist.”

 

“Thank you,” Michael ended the mild disagreement before it went any further. It looked like ‘yes’ would be the only answer accepted.

 

Once the effervescent Mario left with their order and they were alone again, Nikita spoke up. “Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea,” She referred to their choice of eatery and the memories it had evoked in both of them.

 

“It’s fine,” Michael reassured her with a small but genuine smile.

 

Unconvinced, but glad of the reassurance, Nikita changed the subject. Knowing they were undoubtedly being watched, she kept her question deliberately vague. “Did you enjoy your downtime?”

 

“Yes,” Michael replied. “And you?”

 

“Yes.” Nikita smiled, adding, “Perhaps another opportunity will present itself in the near future.”

 

“Perhaps,” Michael allowed before adding a caveat. “However, there are a few things I’ll need to see to,” He paused “Alone.”

 

“Nothing I can help you with?”

 

“No.” He couldn’t bear the look of hurt that crossed her face, so he added in explanation, “I need to check on Adam.”

 

“I understand.” Nikita hid her disappointment that he still wouldn’t consent to her offer of help when it came to his son. “You can have a few hours…”

 

“No,” Michael interrupted, knowing what she was about to offer.

 

“No?” Nikita looked at him curiously.

 

“I won’t be long,” He waited a beat. “I thought afterwards we can spend a little time together.”

 

“I’d love to,” Nikita smiled warmly. “I’ll be looking forward to the respite, whenever it will be.” She already knew what she’d be doing while Michael checked on Adam.

 

“Good.”

 

“I can spend the extra time shopping,” Nikita added with a gleam in her eye.

 

“Shopping?” Michael’s lips twitched in amusement.

 

“Yes,” Nikita grinned. “I can’t remember the last time I actually had the luxury.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Michael sobered at her words

 

“For what?”

 

“For your forced commitment to Section,” Michael answered.

 

“Don’t be,” Nikita tried to assuage Michael’s guilt over his part. “I’m not.”

 

“You’re not?” Michael raised an eyebrow in skepticism of her assertion. The spitfire who’d continuously rebelled against her new environment from the moment she woke up in the white room was difficult to forget.

 

“I wouldn’t be able to lead a normal life anymore,” Nikita explained. “Not after everything I’ve seen.”

 

Michael nodded his understanding. After all, hadn’t he deep down felt the same way, even as he was trying to make a life for himself and Adam?

 

Before either of them had a chance to say anything further their food arrived and conversation turned to more comfortable topics over dinner.

 

********

 

To the Center spy sitting across the restaurant, the conversation Section One’s leaders had just had seemed to bring them a bit closer. Worried that the distance between the two might shrink further, the man hurriedly paid his bill and exited the restaurant to make his report

 

Once he was clear of the area, he pulled out his private cell phone, the number known only to one person in the Agency.  His boss would not be happy about this development. It was possible their timetable would have to be moved up, something else he was sure his gifted strategist and control freak of a boss would be unhappy about.

 

********

 

 

Returning to Section, Nikita and Michael weren’t expecting any significant developments in their absence and were surprised to see an uncharacteristically cheerful Quinn waiting for them at the entrance.

 

“Quinn,” Nikita acknowledged while Michael merely nodded.

 

“We have a guest waiting in containment,” Quinn explained her presence as well as her exuberance. “Richard Tennyson.”

 

“How?” Nikita queried. They had been looking for the elusive arms dealer for weeks without any leads.

 

“Looks legit,” Quinn answered their unspoken question. “Routine surveillance on a low level cold mission picked him up. Once I realized who he was, I sent a team to extract him.”

 

“Exposure?” Michael asked.

 

“None. We followed him to a nightclub in New York.” Quinn smirked, “All anyone saw was a very eager Tennyson leaving with an equally willing woman.”

 

“Good work,” Nikita commended. If Tennyson had to disappear once they were through with him, Section wouldn’t be suspected. “What’s his status?”

 

“He’s being prepped for interrogation.”

 

“Good,” Nikita nodded her approval of Quinn’s initiative.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Michael added to Quinn who had suspected as much anyway.

 

When Nikita had taken command, she had seen to quite a few interrogations personally. She had known it was necessary at the time. Her detractors would have been quick to hold it against her, pointing out that she didn’t have the stomach or skills for interrogation.

 

Nikita most definitely did have the skills as well as the fortitude required and until recently she had still been performing the most vital interrogations herself. When Michael came back she ceded the responsibility to him. She didn’t relinquish the job out of weakness but rather out of pragmatism. She was good at it but he was better.

 

“I’ll have the most current data uploaded to your terminals.”

 

“Thank you,” Michael returned.

 

Once Quinn left Michael and Nikita exchanged a short but meaningful glance conveying their dubiousness of Section’s good fortune before heading to their joint office in the Perch.

 

********

 

A scant forty-five minutes after he had left for the interrogation, Michael returned to the Perch where Nikita awaited his debrief.

 

“So, what do you think?” Nikita asked as Michael came to stand beside her by the aerie window. She had formed her own opinion while watching the interrogation via the surveillance feed from the white room but wanted Michael’s take.

 

The crafty arms dealer had many connections in both the terrorist and anti-terrorist communities. Tennyson kept himself insulated and used his connections to stay ahead of the game. Until now. Suddenly, Section had ‘accidentally’ found him.

 

“His intel is solid.” Michael answered, avoiding eye contact as he looked down at Comm.

 

“Are you sure?” Nikita asked, surprised.

 

“Yes,” Michael lied without hesitation as he turned back to look at Nikita.

 

“So, we move on to the next phase.” Nikita stated, a bit uncertainly.

 

“Yes.” Michael knew he was sending her on a wild goose chase but it was necessary for several reasons, not just the endgame.

 

“I can arrange some downtime in five days,” Nikita had been checking incoming intel and data while watching Tennyson’s interrogation and found another opening for them to take a few hours off again.

 

“Good,” Michael commented then moved on to other matters.

 

********

 

Watching Michael and Nikita’s exchange via Center’s surveillance feed, the Agency’s highest ranking traitor contemplated the meaning and repercussion of what was witnessed.

 

The first consideration had been that Michael might have actually believed what he’d said. But that was discarded almost immediately. Michael was simply too good to be fooled by the likes of Tennyson.

 

Hence came the realization that perhaps the man was at least open to options other than working side by side with his former trainee. That was indeed the reason Tennyson was given up to Section, to test Michael’s loyalty.

 

In a way the realization that Michael could be malleable brought some disappointment that even someone as loyal as he appeared to be had a price. But then the traitor quickly concluded that if loyalties couldn’t be bought and sold, achieving their current position would have been much more difficult.

 

Muddying the issue further was Michael’s reluctance to allow Nikita’s participation in protecting his son. That implied a certain lack of trust and perhaps loyalty as well.

 

On the other hand, compelling arguments could be made against that scenario as well. Section had on more than one occasion used Michael’s seeming disenfranchisement against their enemies. Was that the plan now?

 

That question would have to be answered satisfactorily before an open approach could be made. Then again, if Michael did in fact turn out to be absolutely loyal to the Agency, Section and Nikita, he could be eliminated before he had a chance to cause the turncoat’s plans irreparable damage.

 

********

 

As scheduled, five days later, Nikita and Michael once again left Section together only to go their separate ways a few miles later. This time, their allegiance assured, Darwin and Jasmine went with Michael to meet his contact Diana regarding Adam.

 

Contrary to what he’d led everyone, including Nikita, to believe, Michael was not personally checking on his son. That would have been too dangerous, especially given his and Nikita’s precarious situation. Michael wasn’t about to let either side use Adam to enlist his cooperation.

 

Meeting with Diana was much safer. Michael knew that once she had agreed to help, Diana would take all responsibility on herself and protect his son at all costs. She wouldn’t have agreed to meet unless she was absolutely sure Adam’s safety would not be compromised.

 

While Michael joined Diana in a busy but elegant restaurant for an early lunch, Darwin and Jasmine kept tabs from a nearby table.

 

********

 

Even before Michael had arrived at the restaurant, Nikita had set the next phase of her plans in motion.

 

Although deeply appreciative and completely confident in her bodyguards’ loyalty, Nikita nevertheless ditched them as soon as they arrived at her favorite department store in England. She had purposely chosen this particular store because of its proximity to her real destination.

 

Arguing that having Devon and Alex following behind was too conspicuous, Nikita told the two men to wait for her outside. At first Devon was adamantly against the idea, but he finally relented after Nikita agreed to monitoring through a one way com unit. If Nikita found herself in trouble, Devon and Alex would hear her and be able to track her.

 

As soon as she entered the mall, Nikita proceeded to the ladies room in one of the quieter Sections of the store where she connected with the abeyance operative she had ordered there. The woman was of the same build as Nikita and the latex mask made her Nikita’s double.

 

Nikita passed the com unit to the operative with explicit but simple instructions. Shop for exactly three hours then return to the same spot. She wasn’t to leave the store under any circumstances. The two women then exchanged cell phones for easy communication before they went their separate ways in case an anomaly popped up.

 

Once Nikita was sure she was not being followed she left the store through a seldom used exit and grabbed a taxi.

 

On the way to her destination, Nikita thought about the operative who had taken her place. She’d already assigned the woman to a suicide mission that would go live in twelve hours. Her death was necessary to preserve the secrecy of Nikita’s exploits.

 

No one would question the operative’s death on a no contest mission six thousand miles away from Section.

 

The pang of guilt and remorse Nikita felt for her actions was ruthlessly shoved aside. Yet another life lost to the greater good, another death on Nikita’s conscience. Losing operatives on ‘standard’ missions was one thing, but knowingly ordering operatives to their deaths was something else. The face of every abeyance operative lost since her tenure as Section’s commander and chief was etched into her brain.

 

But it had to be done. This little side trip had to be kept secret regardless of the cost.

 

Less than ten minutes after she’d hailed the cab, Nikita arrived at her destination, an upper-middle class townhouse that fit right in with all those around it.

 

She rang the bell and stepped aside as the door opened. Although the person who answered the door was a master of hiding her emotions, she could not contain her surprise at her visitor.

 

“Nikita,” Madeline recovered swiftly. How she found them was immaterial and Madeline was not one to dwell on the irrelevant. “What do you want?” She asked the obvious question coldly.

 

“May I come in?” Nikita asked politely, not surprised at the chilly reception.

 

“Of course,” Madeline stepped aside. She was curious at the timing of the visit. It had, after all, been almost three years since Madeline’s supposed suicide.

 

Truthfully, Madeline had been surprised that her escape had been as easy as it was. Many, Nikita included, were well aware of Madeline’s ability to flatline and imitate death.

 

Yet interestingly, as far as she had later been able to determine, no one had checked on the missing body in disposal. Perhaps, in the chaos that ensued once Center decided to take over Section it was overlooked. At least that was what Madeline had assumed. But she was never completely comfortable with that assumption.

 

Nikita’s arrival at her doorstep proved that her escape had not gone undetected after all. Oddly enough, the realization comforted Madeline in a way. It showed that her continued existence was at the very least tolerated.

 

Nikita would not come to cancel them personally but she would not just drop by either. And if Nikita was indeed after something, then maybe a bargain with Section’s current leader that would improve her position was a strong possibility. Even with the vast resources at her disposal to help, Madeline was quickly tiring of constantly looking over her shoulder.

 

Guessing at the thoughts swirling in Madeline’s mind, Nikita followed behind her into the tastefully appointed sitting room. Settling herself in one of the two winged-back chairs opposite the sofa, Nikita was disappointed that they appeared to be alone.

 

Raising an eyebrow in silent inquiry, Nikita turned to Madeline who’d sat down in the opposite chair.

 

Understanding what the younger woman wanted, Madeline acquiesced, not exactly shocked that Nikita was aware of her “roommate.”

 

“He’s resting,” Madeline stated as she rose. “I’ll need a few minutes.”

 

“Of course,” Nikita nodded, well aware of the reason for the delay.

 

Several minutes later, Madeline reentered the room behind her wheelchair bound companion who insisted on rolling himself in.

 

Out of respect, Nikita rose to greet the new arrival.

 

The man in the wheelchair, prepared for their visitor by way of Madeline, merely nodded at her, face expressionless, “Nikita.”

 

“Paul,” Nikita returned, equally expressionless.

 

 

* Thanks to Athen4 for letting me ‘borrow’ her interpretation of why Madeline was left behind by Paul in Red Cell’s compound at the end of SWTE as written in her drabble a few months ago (week 13). I much prefer (and deem it more in character) to believe that Paul had meant for Madeline to slip away rather than try to off her.

 

********

 

Paul and Madeline had been concerned with organizational politics long before Mick Schtoppel appeared claiming to be the head of the Agency and throwing Section One into a tailspin.

 

Rumors of trouble brewing had been whispered amongst various Section heads that normally never spoke to each other but were worried enough to put aside their squabbles and break communications silence.

 

Any doubt that the pair had about something wicked coming their way was dispelled when their scuffles with George escalated into all out war. Even as they took advantage of Center’s apathy towards their battle for power, they questioned it as well. That Center was aware was a given. The question was why would the Agency’s governing body tolerate the internal strife? None of the answers were pleasant.

 

In an effort to bring about some kind of a reaction, Paul and Madeline grew bolder in their strikes against Oversight but no censure ever resulted. George’s failed attempts to gain control of Section One through assassination, neural scrapes and treason went unpunished as well.

 

Their suspicions continued to grow until Paul and Madeline had decided to start purposely screwing up to flush whatever it was that was going on out into the open. Paul even went so far as to sabotage Center after agreeing to cooperate on a mission against Black Storm. He sent Michael and Nikita in, knowing full well they would not fail to achieve closure.

 

Neither Paul nor Madeline had any illusions about the sincerity of the offer of Oversight if that mission succeeded. Ousting George would not hinge on a single mission, regardless of the seeming importance attached to it. But they were interested in what failure on their part would mean.

 

Lack of repercussions worried the man who had been in charge of Section for almost two decades. So much so, that he used a joint mission with Red Cell to facilitate an exit strategy for Madeline. He hoped that perhaps on the outside she might get a bead on what was happening, or at the very least, be out of the line of fire when things came to a head.

 

Madeline had appreciated the gesture, but felt they still had more time and the resources outside of Section were inferior to those inside. So, to Paul’s unhappy surprise she returned to Section. He disagreed with her analysis, believing that that a storm was imminent but he ultimately understood why Madeline had returned. He would have done the same.

 

The final proof of their suspicions had been confirmation of George’s allegiance with Red Cell that had led to their white room interrogation and cancelation of him. Data flows downhill from Center. If Section was aware of George’s activities so was Center. The fact they were looking away while Section took care of the problem undoubtedly meant that the endgame was near.

 

The situation with George coupled with Nikita’s activities and escape sent that probability through the roof. Nikita’s actions were so out of character that it was a certainty that she was being ordered from someone above to commit those actions. Whether Michael was privy to her actions ahead of time or was being used like the rest of them was irrelevant.

 

Mindful that things may not go well for them, Paul once again appeared to disfavor Madeline as the search for their wayward operatives intensified. Perhaps if they were seen as being at odds, whatever fate befell one would not befall the other.

 

The sudden discovery of Nikita and Michael’s location after nothing but dead ends fueled their belief that the endgame was near. To that end, once the operatives were returned Paul and Madeline delayed carrying out punishment as much as was subtly possible, preparing contingencies in the meantime, sensing that whatever was about to happen would not be in their best interests.

 

Their assessment had proved accurate as the evaluations Center came to carry out progressed. Both Paul and Madeline quickly realized that their days in Section were numbered and were relieved their contingencies were in place.

 

Neither were particularly afraid to die. If they believed that they were backed into a corner that they had no hope of getting out of, they had no qualms about taking their own life before allowing someone else to. But they were  afraid of a Section in the hands of whoever it was that had been responsible for the downward spiral the Agency had been on for over a year.

 

Center unknowingly aided their plan by pronouncing Madeline unfit for Section and the Agency and sentencing her to die. Using her considerable talents, including the ability to stop her heart at will, Madeline managed to escape rather than die.

 

The idea was for Madeline to work from the outside while Paul gathered as much intel as possible from inside Section. Once he’d done all he could he would join Madeline and the relatively small but loyal and skilled team they’d managed to gather over the years on the outside. Then together, they’d find a way to regain Section from those who would destroy it with their incompetence.

 

Unfortunately, even the best laid plans were subject to the capriciousness of fate and Paul’s exit did not go nearly as smoothly as planned.

 

The profile as prepared by Paul and Madeline called for Paul’s extraction once it became apparent that control of Section would no longer be his. Until then he would continue his job as Operations while gathering as much intel as possible.

 

When the real Mr. Jones made his presence known and explained his relationship to Nikita, Paul knew his days in Section were numbered, probably in the single digits. Right from the beginning, Paul was reduced to watching from the sidelines as Philip Jones and his daughter essentially took over. He quickly became nothing more than a figurehead in the organization that he had sacrificed for and devoted his life to for over twenty five years.

 

Once Philip invaded Section, Paul played the part of a resentful and lost man well. Not all of it was an acting job, for he was somewhat bitter that his sacrifices and dedication suddenly meant nothing. However, he used the perceptions of those around him to his advantage. He immediately set to raking the mainframe and surreptitiously sending every piece of relevant intel to Madeline for future utilization.

 

It wasn’t difficult, few paid attention to him anymore. The transfer of data did not take very long and Paul had his egress planned soon after. Ironically, Nikita had unknowingly impeded his original departure.

 

After his plane had been shot down, thanks to information supplied by Quinn to the Collective at the behest of Philip Jones, Paul had secretly contacted Madeline while eluding the Collective. He hadn’t thought Nikita would really try to find him, let alone get to him before both Madeline and the Collective. But she did. She found him moments before Madeline, forcing Madeline to pull back and let events play rather than risk exposure.

 

When Philip had ordered him taken to containment upon their return, Paul thought he was well and truly dead this time. But Nikita stepped in. He supposed he should have been grateful to her for sparing his life, but gratitude was far from what he was feeling by then. He decided to bide his time, until another opportunity presented itself.

 

He was sure it wouldn’t be long, for the level of hatred Paul felt for Philip was matched only by the amount of hatred Philip had towards him. As many…difficulties as Paul had had with George, his predecessor was worse. While Paul had been second in command to Adrian, Philip had been in charge of Oversight.

 

Doubts about their superior’s aptitude and suitability were one of the few things Paul and Adrian had had in common by that time. Neither were very impressed with Philip during his tenure at Oversight. And both breathed a sigh of relief when he was seemingly retired in favor of his second, George.

 

The moment Paul saw Philip walk into Section as though he owned it, he knew what had really happened to Philip all those years ago. He hadn’t been retired at all. He’d been promoted instead. Any faith Paul still had left in the Agency died in that moment. He could not wait to get out.

 

Michael’s return to the fold proved to be the elusive last piece to the puzzle of Paul’s egress. He’d long concluded that proving Nikita’s participation in Michael’s escape as originally planned would gain him nothing, so instead he used the former top operative’s return to his advantage.

 

The Collective’s move to kidnap Michael’s son as leverage was a stroke of good fortune, or so it seemed at the time. Paul immediately realized this was his best chance to get out.

 

Contrary to what he told Quinn, Paul knew Philip would never allow his plans for his daughter to be derailed by anyone, let alone Michael. By then, Paul had no doubt that Philip had ordered the cancelations of both Michael and Madeline to remove any one who had any chance of swaying his daughter away from his grand plans for her. This realization alone was enough to convince Paul that he had little time left before Philip tried to kill him again, regardless of what he had implied to Nikita when she asked for Paul’s life to be spared.

 

Thinking quickly, Paul came up with an idea that would ensure his escape as well as Adam’s rescue. He did want to keep the boy safe. After all, Adam may have been born to serve Section goals, but he was an innocent and contrary to popular belief that still mattered to Paul.

 

Before he left he quickly sent a message to Madeline detailing his plan and instructing her to bring back up to go up against the Collective. While he waited for Madeline’s reply he sent her a few remaining Section files that he thought they’d need once on the outside.

 

Receiving his reply from Madeline he left, taking two abeyance operatives with him, knowing that regardless of the outcome they would have to die in order to keep his escape a secret.

 

The plan called for Madeline and her team, still in Paris, to arrive onsite just before Paul. Their people would take out the Collective and secure Adam. Posing as a good samaritan that found the boy in the middle of a bloodbath, an operative would take him to the nearest police station where he would be safe until Section picked him up. Paul’s double would be found dead at the scene, an apparent victim of the shootout. 

 

However, when Paul arrived Madeline was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, there was no time to wait as the Collective made their move.

 

Unbeknownst to Paul, Madeline and her team had been snarled in traffic because of an accident that happened right in front of them. They lost precious minutes getting around the jam and by the time Madeline arrived it was all over. The two abeyance operatives were dead and Paul was lying in a pool of his own blood.

 

Thankfully Paul was still alive, but barely. Madeline worked quickly to salvage what they could. She called the top notch surgeon she had standing by just in case, and told him to prepare for Paul’s arrival before giving him a brief report of the injuries.

 

While Paul was being strapped into the gurney in the ambulance Madeline had used for cover, Paul’s Doppelganger who had been lying, sedated, in the back of the ambulance was prepped. Madeline herself shot him in the same general areas as Paul’s wounds and made sure he was dead before they took off for the surgeon’s office.

 

Paul’s will to live coupled with the surgeon’s expertise saved his life. However, Paul’s recovery was slow and any plans they had were put on hold as he recuperated. Even now, he was still in a wheelchair and they weren’t sure he would ever get out of it.

 

Although rationally, she knew it wasn’t her fault, Madeline still blamed herself despite Paul’s assertions that he certainly did not blame her and neither should she.

 

Paul had just started to feel well enough to begin hatching anew their schemes and plans shortly before Nikita arrived unannounced at their doorstep.

 

And neither Paul nor Madeline were sure what would happen now that Nikita had found them.

 

********

 

The man in the wheelchair, prepared for their visitor by way of Madeline, merely nodded at her, face expressionless, “Nikita.”

 

“Paul,” Nikita returned, equally expressionless.

 

Nikita returned to her seat while Paul wheeled himself to the small couch to be beside Madeline.

 

Short on time, Nikita ignored the palpable animosity emanating from her former superiors and got right down to business rather than engage in inane and irrelevant chitchat.

 

Careful to maintain her neutral expression, Nikita stated bluntly, “I’d like your input on a matter that has come up.”

 

“Really?” Paul snorted. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hell must have frozen over.”

 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Nikita stood up as if meaning to leave, “I’d prefer your input but it’s not necessary.”

 

Always the better diplomat of the two, Madeline spoke up, fishing to get a sense of just how disadvantageous their position really was without revealing her purpose. “Why come to us now?”

 

“Section is finally at a point where I can concentrate fully on external matters,” Nikita answered frankly.

 

“Not so easy, is it?” Paul interjected sardonically, trying but failing to keep the bitterness at his situation and incapacitation under wraps.

 

“I never said it was,” Nikita countered. “I just didn’t agree with some of your choices and policies.”

 

“Yet here you are,” Madeline brought the focus back to the present. Whatever her and Paul’s opinion, it wouldn’t do to alienate the current leader of Section One. At least not yet.

 

“As I said,” Nikita turned to Madeline, “The two of you are the best source for the information I require, but not the only source. I *can* make do elsewhere, but I’d prefer not to.”

 

“Why did you cover up our escape?” Paul asked suddenly, unwilling to lend a hand to the woman who had helped destroy all that he had built until he had some answers of his own. He still remembered the last showdown with Philip Jones when Nikita deigned to spare his life. Pity was unacceptable.

 

“If I thought you’d accept it, I would say gratitude.”

 

“For what?” Madeline was surprised and unable to hide it.

 

“Your consistent…failure to remove the thorn in your side,” Nikita answered. “Me.” She continued before either one had a chance to interrupt indignantly, “Father or no father, if you had truly wanted me dead, I would have been,” She paused. “Michael’s regular intervention not withstanding.” 

 

“And you’ve come to this conclusion how?” Paul asked. While what she said was true, for different reasons over the years, he was still somewhat surprised at her insightfulness on this particular matter.

 

“Whatever my opinion of your leadership, repeated incompetency was not a quality I associated with your regime.” Nikita stated truthfully “I’m not the soft, gullible and immature operative everyone saw. And I never saw you as evil, callous dictators.”

 

“Just how did you see us?” Madeline was curious despite herself.

 

“Dedicated and usually necessarily ruthless,” Nikita admitted. “But misguided at times.”

 

Neither Madeline nor Paul bothered to dispute her opinion, as it was a fruitless and potentially frustrating endeavor.

 

“Is that why you looked the other way?” Madeline picked up the previous thread of conversation. “Out of gratitude?”

 

“No,” Nikita fell back on what she had tried to convey to Mick during the evaluations, when she still believed he was in charge. “It’s unwise to waste valuable resources, regardless of my personal opinion.”

 

“What do you want?” Madeline questioned, deciding enough time had been wasted. Nikita was right about one thing. Gratitude was just as unpalatable as pity. It was time to make a deal and try to retain at least some advantage.

 

“Information.” Nikita was glad to get back to the business at hand. Time was not a luxury she could afford if she wanted secrecy to remain. “On a former Section Two operative.”

 

“Why?” Madeline asked.

 

“You and Paul worked closely with her in Section before you took over One and she assumed command of Two.”

 

“What purpose would our knowledge serve now?” Madeline asked warily, guessing at the identity of who Nikita was asking about but unwilling to share just yet.

 

“She ascended to Oversight,” Nikita hedged, watching carefully for their reaction to see how much they knew before she told them any more.

 

“Elisabeth Giles,” Paul stated confidently, intrigued despite himself. The woman in question was easy to remember despite the many years that had passed since they’d worked with her. The question now was what Nikita wanted the information for.

 

********

 

Fifteen minutes later, Nikita had all the information she needed and all that remained was some unfinished business of a more personal nature. The three of them did need to talk, but Nikita was determined not to initiate the conversation. It was up to her former bosses to start the dialogue. How they did so, would solidify one of two possible scenarios Nikita planned.

 

Regardless of the information they provided, both Paul and Madeline knew that Nikita still clearly had the advantage. Easily recognizing that alienating her now would be counterproductive, yet unwilling to appear too subservient, Madeline chose her words carefully before addressing their former subordinate.

 

“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

 

“No,” The hint of a smile flitted across Nikita’s lips at Madeline’s tone – a benevolent teacher patiently teaching a gifted but problematic pupil. “Nothing of a professional nature.”

 

“Is this where we ask what you plan on doing with us now that we’ve answered all your questions?” Paul could hold back his sarcasm and anxiety no longer. He and Madeline had finally begun to formulate their plans for the future, only to be waylaid now. He wanted to know if there was still a future and he wanted to know now.

 

“Well, now that you mention it, I do have a dilemma,” Nikita drawled, feeling the tension they failed to hide, fitting but small pay-back for her own feelings during the countless times her life was in their hands.

 

“And your decision?” Madeline asked, seeing no reason to prolong things. The tension was real, but neither she nor Paul were fooled into believing that a final decision had yet to be made. Nikita had surely decided on a course of action before she walked in the door, undoubtedly using the conversation to reaffirm or refute it. And even if she had changed her mind sometime during their “meeting,” a contingency was surely already in place.

 

Rather than answering, Nikita reached into the purse by her side, feeling the gun nestled inside. Comforted by its presence but finding no need for it, Nikita let her fingers brush by the weapon in favor the small piece of paper laying next it. Pulling the paper out of her bag, she wordlessly handed it to Paul.

 

Looking at the name and phone number scrawled in Nikita’s distinct script he looked up at her with a questioning gaze while Madeline leaned over to get a look at it herself.

 

“Payment for the intel you provided,” Nikita carefully explained, studiously avoiding mention of their Section past and the minefield therein. “That’s a neurosurgeon who thinks he can help you.”

 

“How’d he get my medical file?” Paul asked, knowing that the specialist must have seen it if he already rendered a preliminary opinion.

 

Nikita decided to start at the beginning, “I had Walter run a DNA test which confirmed that the body brought back to Section wasn’t you.” Neither she nor Walter believed a foolhardy rescue was consistent with Paul’s profile so his actions demanded an inquiry. That Walter told no one of Nikita’s and his own suspicions or inquiry was a given. “However, he did find a substantial amount of your blood at the scene. I concluded the injuries on the double probably mirrored yours.”

 

“How did you find…?” Paul asked the obvious question.

 

“There were few surgeons in the area with the capabilities and resources required to save your life after the Collective’s ambush and keep it off any records,” Nikita enlightened them. “Once I found him, the surgeon Madeline used was very forthcoming.”

 

“Was he?” Madeline asked, wondering how voluntary the man’s cooperation was.

 

“He was bought,” Nikita stated bluntly. “Now, he’s dead.” Had he remained loyal necessitating coercion he would have stayed in Section permanently. But the fact that he could be bought so easily proved he couldn’t be trusted.

 

Readily understanding Nikita’s reasoning as they would have acted similarly, Paul and Madeline were once again impressed with Nikita’s maturity.

Paul had glimpsed the beginning of this transformation in his last few months in Section. Nikita had always been a good operative, of that there was no question. But he did not believe that she would ever have it in her to make the hard decisions that came with the post her father had forced upon her.

 

Madeline had always seen Nikita’s promise, but had believed her objection and rejection to some of the more distasteful decisions they had to make limited her potential. Nikita’s request to spare Madeline during the evaluations was viewed by the older woman as confirmation of that weakness. Now however, she realized that it was simply as Nikita had said earlier. She no longer allowed her personal opinion to sway her professional one.

 

Sitting before them was indeed a different Nikita than the one that had toiled under them for seven years.

 

“What now?” Paul finally asked.

 

“Once you’ve undergone treatment, I expect you’ll disappear.”

 

“Just like that?” Madeline asked warily.

 

“Walter will be your liaison,” Nikita clarified, pulling out another scrap of paper. “You can always reach him here if you need anything.” She handed the paper to Madeline.

 

Despite their differences over the years, Walter’s loyalty to Paul (and Madeline) never wavered. Not when it really counted. He would never betray them nor would he leave them hanging if they requested his help.

 

“Thank you,” Madeline put the phone number away while Paul continued to contemplate the magnanimity and apparent sincerity of Nikita’s gestures.

 

Nikita nodded, acknowledging the gratitude. However, one thing needed to be made perfectly clear before she left. “If there’s even a hint of rumor that you’re planning any kind of retaliation against the Agency…”

 

“Understood,” Madeline quietly interrupted. They had been given a second chance, there would not be a third.

 

********

 

Even as Nikita sat in the taxi on her way back to the department store from which she had “escaped,” Michael was on his way to their rendezvous at a pre-chosen restaurant.

 

Still a good hour away, Michael considered the assurances he had received from Diana that all was well with Adam and she would see to it that that continued. His musings were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone, the one he had received upon Nikita’s return from Center when she had argued for his reinstatement. Not expecting any calls, his heart lurched at the possibility that Nikita was calling to tell him there was a problem.

 

Checking the caller ID, he was somewhat relieved to find Center calling instead. His voice unaffected by his momentary anxiety, he answered with his usual, “Yes?”

 

“Your presence has been requested at Center.” The disembodied voice at the other end of the line was polite but Michael knew refusing the invitation was not an option.

 

“Of course,” Michael replied, relieved that this call was apparently a summons for a long overdue introduction and nothing more sinister. “Shall I tell Nikita?” He assumed they knew that the two went their separate ways for a few hours. Their surveillance was, after all, extensive.

 

“No, come alone,” came the surprising answer. “Make up an excuse. No one is to know. Take only your shadows.” After a few brief instructions on getting to a plane on a private, heavily guarded nearby airstrip that would take him to Center the call was terminated.

 

Michael immediately called Jasmine on the limousine’s internal phone, informing her of the change of plans and giving her directions to the airstrip. She, in turn, passed them on to the driver, Darwin. The two exchanged worried glances, but said nothing.

 

Several minutes later, armed with an excuse, Michael called Nikita.

 

“Yes?” Nikita answered her phone, knowing it was Michael but puzzled as to why he would call.

 

“I won’t be able to make our dinner engagement,” Michael stated formally. They were supposed to meet for an early dinner, one of the reasons Michael had settled for a cappuccino and pastry while Diana had heartily eaten, regaling him with stories of Adam in between bites.

 

The topic of conversation and tone of his voice set alarm bells ringing in Nikita’s head. “Is something wrong?” Nikita asked with more calm than she felt.

 

“No,” Michael denied, willing some lightness into his voice. “I need more time.”

 

“For what?” Nikita asked curiously.

 

 “It’s personal,” Michael lied.

 

“Shall we meet later then?” She tried, hoping he’d only be delayed rather than canceling all together. There was much she wanted to discuss with him away from Section’s prying eyes and ears.

 

“I’ll see you back in Section.” Michael paused before adding, “I’m fine, Nikita.”

 

“Really?” Nikita was still skeptical.

 

“Yes,” Michael replied. “I should be back tonight.” He hoped.

 

“Shall I wait for you?”

 

“Please,” Michael invited. “Perhaps in the Tower?” He knew that would distract her.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Michael stated emphatically. He had his reasons for the request, diverting Nikita’s attention was only one of them.

 

After he hung up the phone to a placated Nikita, Michael pondered his situation. He realized what the summons to Center, alone, could mean. It was entirely possible that they wanted Nikita out of the loop and away so as not to interfere with his cancellation.

 

He didn’t see anything lacking in his performance since his return to Section, but Center had always had their own standards.

 

If that was the case, Michael faced the prospect of his cancellation unflinchingly. He had always done what he thought best regardless of the cost. He had no regrets.

 

The drive to the private airstrip was short and uneventful as was the plane ride. Once the plane touched down, another limousine was waiting for Michael and his shadows, Jasmine and Darwin. A lone driver, serving as their escort to Center, greeted them while the perimeter was guarded by heavily armed black and camouflage clad operatives.

 

Darwin sat in font with the driver while Michael sat silently in the back with an equally quiet Jasmine. This was the usual placement when circumstances dictated one of his guards sit in the back with Michael. Darwin was very good at his job, but silence wasn’t one of his virtues whereas Jasmine enjoyed it.

 

The drive to Center was surprisingly short, the private airstrip on which they’d landed just outside Center grounds. When they arrived, Jasmine and Darwin were allowed to keep their weapons but they were ushered into a small waiting area while Michael was whisked away to the triumvirate’s favorite conference room.

 

As Michael walked in, scanning the meeting venue, his escort closed the door behind him, sealing Michael inside. Alone. He sat down in the same chair that Nikita had occupied since her placement as Operations necessitated the regular meetings at Center. His face its usual blank mask, he willed himself to relax and stared straight stonily ahead, waiting for his superiors to arrive.

 

A few minutes after he sat down the triumvirate walked in from the door opposite the one Michael had used. Rather than appear submissive, Michael raised his eyes to gaze at each member of the triumvirate as they sat down in their customary chairs.  None gave the slightest indication as to the purpose of this meeting, their blank expressions as bland as Michael’s.

 

Once they were all settled, Mr. O’Neill greeted Michael with a smile. There was no comfort though, in that smile. It never reached his eyes and was eerily reminiscent of Madeline’s misleading smiles.

 

“Welcome back to the Agency,” Mr. O’Neill began. “Officially, that is.”

 

“Thank you,” Michael ignored the overt sarcasm. Knowing that the triumvirate had been unhappy that they weren’t consulted before he was brought back, he’d prepared for possible hostility.

 

“Any idea as to why you’re here?” Mr. O’Neill asked curiously, not really expecting a telling answer.

 

“Some,” Michael answered succinctly, fulfilling expectations.

 

“So, let’s not beat around the bush. We don’t like surprises.” Mr. O’Neill amended, “At least not being on the receiving end of them.”

 

Michael nodded, “I understand.”

 

“What are your plans once Section One is stable?” Ms. Giles asked, the question merely a formality. Every one in the room knew the only way out for him again at this point would be in a body bag.

 

Michael turned to her and gave the proper response, “To continue serving the Agency.”

 

“What if we decide that you’re no longer…useful?”  Mr. Lacroix asked.

 

“I knew that was a possibility when I returned.”

 

“Ah, but your return wasn’t completely your own idea,” Mr. O’Neill alluded to the circumstances of Michael’s homecoming.

 

“The timing perhaps,” Michael agreed. “But I had planned to return regardless.” Whatever his own feelings, he would not let them see any division in the ranks.

 

“To the position of second in command?” Ms. Giles asked shrewdly, ignoring the looks from her two colleagues. “Or somewhere else perhaps?”

 

“Wherever I was needed,” Michael deftly maneuvered.

 

“The numbers speak for themselves. Can’t complain about them,” Mr. O’Neill conceded. “Section is almost at optimum levels.”

 

“Then why am I here?” Michael asked mildly.

 

“Once optimum levels are reached, some personnel will be reassigned.”

 

“Is that wise?” Michael asked the expected question. Why break up a winning combination? He knew the answer, even agreed with it, but felt it best that he appear uncertain.

 

“We think so.” Mr. O’Neill’s eyes flashed momentarily whether in annoyance or admiration of the question was unclear. “Status quo isn’t always a good thing.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“And if we were to leave Nikita in Section and send you to Oversight, would that be a problem?”

 

“No,” Michael replied without hesitation.

 

“And the other way around wouldn’t be more…suitable?” Mr. O’Neill asked, all three colleagues watching Michael closely.

 

A slow blink his only reaction, Michael covered his apparent surprise at their bluntness quickly and offered the appropriate response for a company man. “Whatever you decide would be fine.”

 

And beneath the surprise is something else as well, the mole smiled inwardly. A hint of bitterness, perhaps?

 

“Good,” Mr. O’Neill concluded the meeting. “You can inform Nikita about our impromptu meeting.”

 

“Of course,” Michael nodded.

 

“I’m sure you would have found a way to tell her anyway,” Mr. O’Neill threw a parting shot.

 

His gaze sliding away at the comment, Michael did not respond, but surveillance cameras caught a fleeting, pensive look on his face. One that the mole would later dissect. A look that said, maybe he would have told Nikita the truth but maybe not. Combined with the earlier reaction to Nikita’s potential advancement over him, Michael’s reaction gave the mole plenty to think about.

 

********

 

Returning to Section later than originally planned, Michael passed through a quiet Systems and Comm on his way to his old office. Although he and Nikita essentially shared the Perch he nonetheless retained the office he’d used when he was a level five operative. As professionally in sync as they usually were, both still sometimes needed their own space.

 

Nikita had initially offered to renovate Madeline’s old cavernous office, but Michael was more comfortable in his old territory. Later, they would both realize that it was a better choice.

 

One of Michael’s duties upon his return to Section was to train William and Dorothy, the two level five operatives to whom Nikita had turned for field command after she took over the Perch. She’d had to make it a two person position because, even though they were the best qualified candidates the Agency had to offer, neither of them alone had been up to the task. And the rest of Section knew it.

 

When Michael first moved back into his office, the other operatives took comfort in it and saw it as an insurance policy. The best field leader they’d ever seen was available just in case. For the first two weeks, Michael *did* step in on a half a dozen missions, twice in the field and four times in tactical oversight.

 

Only one of those six missions had been in danger of being compromised to the point where achieving closure had become doubtful. The other five times Michael had stepped in, he’d done so to ensure maximum safety for the teams and innocents potentially in harm’s way.

 

By the end of two weeks, Michael knew that of the two senior operatives, William had more potential for field command. Dorothy was not demoted, however. She retained her level five status and was named head profiler, the position for which she was actually better suited for.

 

At that point, Michael trained William to solo in his old position. William proved to be a quick learner and within six weeks of Michael’s arrival, William was officially named field leader. His approach was somewhat different than Michael’s, but he got the job done. And at the end of the day, that’s all anyone asked for.

 

Since then, Michael usually took a few minutes at some point throughout the day to check on William’s progress via the teams’ debrief reports. Michael then used his own experiences to gauge the situation and offer whatever he thought William needed most at the time. Sometimes it was an encouraging word after a particularly brutal mission, sometimes a commendation for a job well done. It was one of the things Michael wished Paul Wolfe had done more of during his time as Operations.

 

Noting that the day in Section had passed without any significant incidents, Michael made a mental to-do list for the morning and shut down his computer. Enjoying the solitude, Michael took advantage of the late hour and relative quiet of Section and sat silently contemplating his next move.

 

Several long minutes later, decided on a course of action, Michael left his office and headed for the Tower and his promised rendezvous with Nikita.