| Subject: The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove Nine |
Author:
Schnee
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Date Posted: 14:46:51 03/03/01 Sat
In reply to:
Schnee
's message, "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" on 14:10:08 03/03/01 Sat
“That will be all.”
My eyes pop open, as my jaw almost hits the floor. Unable to hide it, my shock shows plainly on my face. I watch as Jones lowers his gun and exits the room as ordered.
What is he doing here?!
My eyes scan over his face with both fondness and great interest. Clearly he outranks Jones, ordering him away like that. Has the man I’ve revered and respected held this position all along?
“Come.” He bids me to follow. Silently I accompany him to what appears to be an office. A large severe desk faces the doorway where we stand.
“Take a seat, Nikita.” He says in a very business-like tone unlike what I’m accustomed. He seems cold and far from reach. Confusion riddles my mind as I await some answers. Why am I alive? Why am I here? What is real and what has been an illusion?
I stiffly sink down into the armchair, crossing my legs numbly. As the silence builds the tension in the room, I decide to break the ice.
“Last time I saw you, I ordered you to the Farm.” I look straight at his steely blue eyes searching for the warmth in them. “I guess the chain of command is not what I thought it was.” I smile at him, but to no avail.
Is it anger I see in his face? No. Not quite. More like a father ready to scold an irresponsible child. It’s disappointment that I see. Yes, disappointment.
“I was sure you were in the 5% club. I was so sure you’d find a way to hold onto your soul. I even tried to steer you in the right direction when I could. To give you something to smile at when things appeared grim. Unfortunately Madeline is good, and Adrian even better. They saw your despair and used it. Praying upon your moral code. Twisting the ends to make them appear just,“ Walter speaks, his voice tinged with regret.
“They want to save lives. Adrian and Madeline want to return Section to how it was before Operations took control. An organization that fights terrorism. One that values its operatives.” I explain earnestly.
Walter starts to shake his head as he leans back against the desk. “No, Nikita. It’s all about the struggle to be in control. The struggle for power. It poisons even the most just.” After a pause he asks, “If their interest is purely in the just leadership of Section, why are they interested in pursuing Mr. Jones? Have you asked yourself that?”
“Centre oversees both Oversight and the Sections. As far as we could tell, Jones determines the leadership of each organization. I guess it was feared that he was as corrupt as Operations. But it is actually you who hold that position. Head of Centre, right? And all this time, you’d have us believe you were simply a Munitions expert.” I say, feeling deceived and uncertain what to trust.
“Yes, who’d have thunk it?” Walter smiles for the first time, as he places his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. ”A long term cover that has suited me well. Granted once upon a time it was my sole job.”
“So you just pretended to be my friend. What? To get into my head? To maintain your cover as a dirty old man with a heart of gold? Huh?” I enquire, finding the uncertainty disconcerting.
“Pretended to be your friend? How about you? I risked my neck to help you out on more than one occasion. Especially when it came to your relationship with Michael. You on the other hand, you lied to everyone. Everyone who cared about you. Including Michael. I really believed you loved him. I know for a fact he loves you.” Walter replies indignantly, pointing at me.
“Loves?” I ask, noticing his use of the present tense.
“I know you took the bag of tricks, when he wouldn’t. I know you saved him and set him free. So yes, he loves you. Enough that he’s still pursuing you despite your betrayal. I guess love can make the smartest man a fool.”
I sit silently, looking at my hands in my lap as I toy with the hem of my shirt. I can’t say I’m proud of the things I’ve done. But there were reasons for everything I did. At least at the time. How can I explain that? How do I find the words?
“So now what happens?” It’s what comes out of my mouth, instead of what I really want to say. I close my eyes with resignation.
As Walter begins to lean against the desk again, I look up to see him gazing directly at me.
“I remember the first day I saw you inside Section,” he starts. “Walking in with your torn shirt, your hair in a knot. Full of attitude. Real spunk. Ready to take on whatever was thrown at you. I did a double take when you came past my workstation. Seeing those familiar blue eyes looking back at me.”
“Familiar? I thought you said it was the first time you saw me.” I answer, struck by the oddness of both his words and the gesture on his face.
“It was.” Walter replies. I sense him considering his words carefully, as his hand grips the corner of the desk. I return his stare showing my confusion. As he moves to walk behind me, he continues, “But those baby blues you have, match another pair. A pair that belonged to someone I knew.”
I turn in the chair to face him, saying nothing. I’m certain my expression says it all.
~~~~
Crouching down beside me, Walter tenderly begins to explain, “Nicholas Blythe, was a colleague and a friend. Not only was Nick a very capable operative with keen tactical skills, he was someone you could count on to watch your back. Someone you could trust. He in turn confided in me once. About his involvement with a woman.”
I try to control my breathing to steady myself, but my pulse quickens. Is he telling me what I think he’s telling me?
“It happened during an op. He saw a guy getting rough with this young woman. Nick tried to stay out of it until the slime belted her. Though as a seasoned operative, he knew it could jeopardize his cover, he intervened anyway. Once he got her home and cleaned up, they got to talking for a while. Then Nick found himself checking up on her when he could. Before he knew it, he found himself emotionally attached and in a difficult position. She started asking those tough questions, the ones a Section Operative can’t answer honestly. The op was ending and Nick found he had no choice, but to let her go.”
I nod in understanding, as I realize I’m gripping the arms of the chair. As he pauses longer, I grow impatient, biting my lip. Uncomfortable with his crouched position, Walter stands and retrieves another chair to sit next to me.
“Then what happened?” I anxiously ask, hungry for answers.
“After a few months, he broke down and checked on her from a distance. Making certain there was no surveillance on him. He found she was with child. Nick guessed the timing was about right. But he wasn’t certain. Then, Nick came to me for advice.” Walter explains. I detect the sadness in his eyes.
“What did you say?” I ask, intent for him to continue.
“I told him whether or not the child was his, the best thing he could do for mother and child was to stay away. And pray that no one makes the connection.”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a moment as I try to process my thoughts. A tear releases from one, as I open them again. Renewing eye contact with Walter, he quietly nods his head.
“But Operations did, right? Just like George explained.” My animosity towards Paul slowly rises, gripping me with hatred.
“No. George was using you for his own quest for power.”
“Then who?”
“Madeline.”
All the rushing thoughts in my mind come to a crashing halt.
“Madeline? Why?”
“Genetics. Pure and simple. Adrian established that there was a greater success rate using the children of high-level operatives. Seymour and Jason were one such test of that. Their mother Lisa had innate skill with computers. Both children raised in different environments showed that same predisposition toward computers, learning advanced processes more rapidly that your average kid. Unfortunately, since Lisa was unable, Adrian had me choose between the boys. When I argued that they were just babies who deserved a life outside Section, I was countered with the ultimatum, choose or they will both spend their lives inside Section. It didn’t leave me much of a choice.”
Silence looms between us, as I’m sure he’s thinking of Birkoff, just as I am. Seeing a tear welling in his eye, I know Walter’s love for the young man was genuine. I ache, knowing Birkoff sacrificed himself to save the only family he knew. His soul was far purer than mine.
“Did Madeline know my father?” I ask, uncertain that I believe my recruitment to Section was solely based on my genetics.
“Sure. They butted heads on occasion. When he found her tactics to be too cold-hearted. And when she thought he was ruled too much by emotion rather than logic. But they respected each other’s abilities.”
“How did she find out about me?”
“Who knows? Even at operative status, she watched those around her carefully. Trying to get into each person’s head. To know what made them tick. And to collect intel that could be used later. Must have been all those years of being a ward of the state, dealing with all the child psychologists hired to pick her brain apart.”
Thinking of Madeline as a child evokes too much sympathy, so I push the image aside. Feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information that’s been thrown at me, I begin to rub my temples. Somehow, I need to make sense of all this and how it relates to my current situation.
“Putting the issue of my father aside, why did you recruit me to evaluate an organization that you had already infiltrated?”
“I needed a second independent evaluation. And you needed a noble purpose within Section. An ace in the hole so to speak. I knew that the mere idea that you could make a difference would keep you fighting to stay alive. I couldn’t get you out without suspicion, but I owed Nick. The only thing I could do was try to keep you alive. And when your romance with Michael blossomed after his blood cover was completed, I tried to nurture it. I truly wanted to see you happy. However, in spite of all my efforts, the only thing I hadn’t counted was who else would recruit you and how many masters you would try to serve.”
Before I can say anything in response, the phone on the desk rings, cutting me off. Walter slowly walks around the desk to retrieve the receiver by the fourth ring.
“Yes.”
“I see.” Walter pauses as he listens. “Leave the situation to me. I’ll handle it when I’m done with this matter,“ he answers as he reaches into the desk drawer. Anticipating his next move I speak.
“I betrayed you Walter. I did it because I believed I could make a difference. I believed what Madeline and Adrian told me. It concurred with the things I saw with my own eyes. And, of course I didn’t trust Schtoppel, Jones, or whatever you call him. So now what happens to me? Do I get my fingers slapped or should I still expect a bullet between the eyes?”
Walter slowly lays the receiver down with one hand as the other remains in the drawer. Is it contempt that I see in his eyes? Or something else?
~~~~~
Walter closes the drawer abruptly. I practically jump out of my skin as the sound reverberates through the desk.
“A bullet between the eyes could be arranged for if you have your heart set on it. But apparently, you’ve not been paying attention. I just explained my interest in keeping you alive. I didn’t tell you all that to assuage my guilt nor for my health.” Walter breathes with disgust.
“But...I…uh…thought you were reaching for a gun in your desk. I’m sorry, Walter.” I answer feeling like dirt. After all Walter has done for me he certainly did not deserve my verbal attack. My eyes begin to feel misty as I realize how overwhelmed I’m feeling. I long to be alone and outdoors, breathing in cool fresh air, soothing my burning lungs. Instead I’m caught in this room thick with tension, my breathing, labored and raspy.
“If you would stop jumping to conclusions, you would see that I was only getting this.” Walter states as he hands me a photograph.
I gaze at the snapshot with great interest. I always wondered as a child if I would know my father if I were to see him. Now I know the answer is yes. The resemblance is uncanny. My hand trembles as I study the picture, afraid if I look away it will all have been a dream.
“It’s yours to keep, Sugar.”
I look up at him feeling like a child on Christmas morning.
“Oh, Walter. Thank you. You cannot imagine how much this means to me.” The tears that have been threatening spill over as warm rivulets down my face. I press the picture against my chest, as I long to give Walter a huge hug showing my gratitude. Now that I’ve been given a glance at the man who was my father, I want to know more about him.
But before the questions can pass my lips, Walter speaks, “I’m glad you liked the picture. I thought it an appropriate good-bye gift.”
“Good-bye?” I choke.
“Yeah. There’s someone who’s anxious to find you. It looks as though he’s in the process of breaching my security here. And Michael would be successful in getting in undetected except I have been expecting him.” Walter chuckled.
“Michael?” I whisper. He’s here?
“Yes, in case you haven’t noticed, he’s quite attached to you. Now, that your ‘dead’ again thanks to Mr. Jones, it is time for you to be reunited with your ‘dead’ lover.”
“I’m dead.” I mutter as Walter’s words sink in. I realize he’s giving me a second precious gift. My freedom.
My tears renew themselves as I move towards Walter with outstretched arms. I press my lips against his cheek as I feel his arms returning the hug, holding me tight. I may have just learned who my father was after all these years, but Walter held that role since I arrived inside Section. Releasing our embrace, I find I am not the only one lacking dry eyes.
“Now get out of here!” Walter motions, uncomfortable with his own tears.
“How can I ever repay you?” I ask as I reach out to squeeze his wrinkled hand in my own. Parting from him is tinged with regret as I sense the finality of it all. I owe him for more than the truth and my freedom. I owe him my life. Without his love and friendship, I’m uncertain that I could have survived inside Section. How can words express such gratitude?
“Just be happy. And live life to the fullest….make lots of babies with that lucky fool…’kay?”
I burst into laughter, not expecting Walter’s candor.
“Maybe. If he forgives me for all that I’ve done.”
If I forgive myself.
~~~~~
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