Subject:  Re: THE THREAD THAT BINDS - Part IV |
Author:
Kitkat
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 18:55:15 04/07/01 Sat
In reply to:
Kitkat
's message, "THE THREAD THAT BINDS" on 18:35:17 04/07/01 Sat
THE THREAD THAT BINDS - Part IV
When I come to I am surrounded by a sea of concerned faces. Rhodes is holding my head and mopping my face with a damp rag. The instant he sees that I’m conscious, he puts down the rag and takes my face in his hands.
"Nikita, listen to me. Its not Michael. Do you hear me, Nikita? The body on the bed is not Michael."
I push myself up and away from Rhodes. I have to see for myself that the pitiful remains lying only a few feet away are not all that is left of my beloved. Blood is everywhere. The body is tied spread-eagle as if waiting to be drawn and quartered. The face is mutilated and body parts are strewn casually around the bed. I put my hand across my mouth and bolt from the room. When my stomach is empty, I feel better. Rhodes is watching me from the doorway.
"Birkoff has been trying to reach you. We removed your headset when you passed out. Here."
"What does Birkoff know?" I ask him.
"He knows that Marnie is dead. He knows that we found a body and that its not Michael. He, also, knows that you went around back to secure the area. The area has been secured."
"Thanks," I murmur.
"Birkoff, the area is secure," I say as I am putting on the headset. "Anything from your end."
"No, is there any sign of Michael?"
"No." I look around the yard, still searching for clues.
"Any information on the victim?"
"Yes," I look down at the wallet that Rhodes is holding towards me. "The victim is the missing operative. He’s been dead less that one hour. She must have been keeping him down here for some time."
"Where?" I am startled when Operations voice comes over the line. I nod at Rhodes.
"He was being held in the basement, sir. We found definite signs that point to someone living down there," explains Rhodes.
I come back into the conversation. "We’re going to comb the area. I’ll keep in touch."
I turn to my first in command, "Rhodes, call the local police and advise them of the situation."
* * * *
The sky is almost black. We have been searching the area for hours looking for Michael. I am tired and discouraged. He could be anywhere. If he has escaped, why haven’t we heard from him? If he’s dead why haven’t we found him? No. I must not let myself think like that. He’s alive. He must be. Suddenly, the van swerves to the left, and I am nearly thrown out of my seat. I, quickly, look in the side mirror to see what has caused the problem when my breath catches in my throat.
"Stop the van, I yell. It’s him. I think that’s Michael."
As the van comes to a stop I open the door and jump out. I scream Michael’s name as I run toward the man walking down the road.
"Michael, Michael are you all right?" The man in front of me doesn’t answer. I continue to walk toward him trying to detect any sign of injury. He is wearing a long overcoat, and
a cap shadows his face. Within a few feet of me he stops. I approach warily.
"Michael?" I am uncertain in the face of his continued silence. I reach out and remove his cap. What I see stops me cold. The man standing in front of me isn’t Michael.
Tears of frustration burn my eyes. Behind me I hear the rest of the team approaching.
"He not Michael," I shout to them. I turn back to the man in front of me. "Where did you get these clothes?" I ask. At his continued silence I draw my gun, placing the barrel against his chest. "Where did you get these clothes, I repeat?"
The man, visibly frightened, begins to shake. "I took them off of the man in the alley," he says.
I grab him by the lapels and throw his to the ground. "Was the man dead?" I ask. The man on the ground whimpers. I kick him in the ribs. "Was he dead?" I repeat through clenched teeth.
"I don’t know," the man replies, gasping for air. I turn to Rhodes. "Get him in the van. He can lead us to Michael."
* * * *
We drive around the city for over an hour before the man spots the alley that he thinks is the one. It is located only a few blocks from the house where Marnie grew up.
I turn to the man sitting beside me. "You’re sure? This is where you were when you took the clothes, right?"
"Yes, I’m pretty sure."
I shake my head and take a deep breath. "Look, we’re running out of time. We can’t afford to be running all over the city searching through empty alleys. If my friend dies because we can’t find him, you’re going accompany him. Understand?"
The man nods, his eyes wide and starring. "Yes," he says. "I’m sure that this is the place."
He’s over there behind those garbage cans"
I look in the direction that the man points, but I see nothing in the unbroken darkness. I turn to the driver. "Turn the van and shine the headlights over there," I instruct him. "Let’s go," I call to the team. "Spread out."
I take the man with me. As we near the place where the man has pointed, I see what looks like a body sticking out from under the garbage. I know even before I reach him that its Michael. He is unmoving and deathly pale. Moving aside the debris covering him, I frantically search for a heartbeat. Relief washes over me as I detect the faint but steady pulse of life. Michael is unconscious and in shock, but he is alive.
* * * *
We arrive at Section two hours later. After a quick debrief, I join Madeline and Operations outside of Michael’s room.
"He’s very lucky, you know." Madeline informs me. "The doctors say that he’s been heavily drugged and remembers little of the last forty-eight hours. He does have a dim recollection of his escape. Apparently, Marnie was busy elsewhere and left him unattended."
"Always a dire mistake where Michael is concerned," I interject. We all smile in mutual understanding. "Is he awake?"
"He was for a few minutes, but I think he’s gone back to sleep," Operations answers.
I stay long enough to assure myself that Michael is really o.k., then, head out for my apartment and a much needed soak in the tub. I slip into the warm, scented water and begin to relax. Ten minutes later, I am asleep.
I arrive back at Section refreshed and revived. After giving Michael several hours to rest and receive proper medical attention, I feel that a visit is in order. Wearing my most formal black suit, white shirt, and tie, I enter Michael’s room and politely ask the nurse to leave. I jam the door lock and attach a computer box to the room monitor, scrambling the signal. Smiling seductively at Michael, I find a pitcher for the flowers in my hands and place them on the stand beside his bed.
For a few moments neither of us speak. I just look, allowing my eyes to drink their fill and slake my desperate thirst for the man I love. Reaching out I comb my fingers through a lock of his hair, and imitating a gesture I know so well, I tuck it gently behind his ear.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Better, now that you’re here," he says.
I lean down to brush my lips against his.
"How long do we have?" he asks.
"Oh, about an hour," I reply. "What did you have in mind?"
Michael tilts his head to the side and grins at me crookedly. "I thought maybe that you could prove to me how much you missed me and how concerned you were for my safe return."
"Oh yeah?" I answer. "And how do you suppose that I could do that?" I ask with a gleam in my eye.
Michael motions for me to lean in real close. He entwines his fingers in my hair and pulls me even closer so that his lips are nestled against my ear. His whispered words bring back a delicious sense of deja-vous.
"You can start by removing the tie," he says.
I smile at the remembered phrase. Our lives will never be smooth, but as long as we have each other and our love remains constant, I know that together, we can overcome any obstacle. I stand back from the bed and look steadily at the man I love, letting my eyes reveal the true depth of my feelings, as I slowly begin to remove my tie.
The End
Kitkat
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 
