| Subject: The Anguish of Angels 1 |
Author:
Rox
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Date Posted: 22:08:40 01/02/02 Wed
In reply to:
Rox
's message, "The Anguish of Angels (Sequel to Shadow of Simone)" on 22:01:11 01/02/02 Wed
THE ANGUISH OF ANGELS
“Good morning, sugar.”
“Walter?” Nikita opened her eyes and found herself in bed, in her own bedroom.
Walter held a bed tray in his hands.
“Hope you like scrambled eggs. It’s one of the few things I know how to cook.” He waited until Nikita sat up, then placed the tray in her lap. That done, he pulled up a nearby chair, turned it around, straddled it, so he could lean his folded arms on the chair’s back.
“How did I get here?” Nikita asked, ignoring the food in front of her.
“Madeline.”
A shiver went through Nikita. Madeline.
“What happens now?” Nikita asked dully.
“You eat. You get better. You go back to work.” Walter said, studying her face intently.
“That’s all?” Her voice sounded on the edge of tears.
“That’s all.” Walter said gently.
“Where’s Michael?”
“Back at Section, in medlab.”
“How is he?”
“Lucky to be alive.” Walter said plainly.
“Who are these people we work for, Walter? Are they even human? Do they think we’re machines? That we have no feelings?” Nikita asked in anguish.
“I know it seems like that, sugar. But I’ve been with Section longer than you have. There are reasons for most things they do, even if we never are party to explanations.”
“You know, don’t you?”
“About what?” Walter frowned at her seriously.
“About the baby.”
He nodded, “Yeah. I know. And I’m sorry, Nikita.” He reached over and patted her hand.
“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t!” She started to cry harder. “Call Operations and tell him I ran--tell him! They can cancel me and it will finally be all over!”
Walter moved from the chair to the edge of Nikita’s bed and took her in his arms.
After he allowed her to cry for a while, Walter spoke, “And what about Michael, Nikita? Do you want him canceled too? Because that’s what will happen.”
Nikita shook her head, but was too upset to speak.
“Nikita.” Walter sighed. “There’s an old saying, “That which doesn’t kill you, makes you strong. There’s a lot of truth in that. I know, from first hand experience. You think this is the worse that could happen to you--now. But it isn’t. There are worst things--not by much, but there are.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Hell, no. But think about this for a minute. What about the baby? What kind of future would it have? Even if they let you have the baby, you wouldn’t be allowed to keep it. They wouldn’t even let you see it after it was born or know what sex it was.”
“What about Michael’s son? Why was Simone allowed a baby? They kept it!”
Walter was grim faced, “Yeah, and for how long?”
“What do you mean?”
“I MEAN, a lot of us five percenters wondered if little Etienne’s death wasn’t a case of Section flu.”
“You mean murder?” Nikita’s voice dropped on the last word.
“Look, I don’t know! Nobody really knows! The autopsy said crib death. Either way, that little baby didn’t last long. All I do know is, it nearly destroyed Simone and Michael.”
“Walter, what was Simone like?” Nikita asked, pausing to blow her nose on a handkerchief Walter handed her.
“Simone?” He smiled faintly in remembrance, “She was a spunky, little China doll. She mooned me the first time I met her!” He laughed at the memory. “I accidentally walked in on her in Madeline’s office getting ready for a mission! She’s the only person I ever met that could make Madeline giggle.”
“How did she and Michael meet?”
“Well, that’s a story in itself. I don’t know if I ought to tell you,” he said rather playfully.
“Please Walter. She meant so much to Michael. I want to know something about her--about how Michael was, when they were together.”
“Why now?
“I can’t explain it really. I had the strangest dream while in the hospital--that Simone visited me and gave me a necklace. She told me to love Michael for her and for myself. She seemed to be so kind.”
Walter had a strange expression on his face. “What?” Nikita asked, in answer to it.
“What kind of necklace”
“Gold, I think.”
“With an angel on it?”
“An angel? I don’t know, really. It was only a dream, anyway.”
Walter leaned closer to her, reaching for something beneath her hair.
“What is it?” Nikita asked, trying to see what he was doing.
“Did it look something like this?” Walter held up a gold chain he had just unhooked from Nikita’s neck. At the end of the chain was an angel, with its wings curved into a teardrop shape over the angel’s head--the wing tips almost touching. Clutched in its hands was a sword, point downward, as if the Angel was resting it on the ground while awaiting orders--or standing watch. Across its breast was a banner that read St. Michael.
“Where did it come from?” Nikita asked somewhat puzzled.
“I have no idea. You had it in your hand when they brought you back. I put it around your neck so you wouldn’t lose it.”
“But I’ve never seen it before.” Nikita said, cradling it in her hand.
Walter began to mimic the theme to the Twilight Zone.
“Was Simone religious?”
“Very! I know, that sounds strange in our business, but she was. Catholic, I think, but I’m a heathen, so what do I know!”
“What else do you know about her?”
Walter sighed at her persistence, but he suddenly realized he’d managed to get Nikita’s mind was off her troubles for a moment. “Okay. I’ll tell you about her IF you don’t waste my eggs! I laid them myself, and if you don’t think THAT was a bitch!” He was pleased to see that she smiled at his joke and picked up the fork.
“Where should I start?”
“How did Michael meet Simone? Was he in Section first, or was she?”
“Simone was. I’m not sure how long, but she was a valentine op. It’s funny, but she was never what you’d call a beauty, although she had the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen on a woman--except for yours.” Walter added with a grin.
“A valentine op? You mean she uh. . . .”
“You know what I mean. And she was good at it, too. Men fell for her in droves.”
“And Michael--too?”
Walter laughed. “Especially Michael! He was a green recruit and she--uh--trained him in the finer arts of “l’amore.” He wagged his shaggy gray brows.
Nikita smiled faintly then averted her eyes to look at the medal she still held in her hand. “You know I’ve often been jealous of Simone--now I can honestly say I’m in her debt. She did an excellent job with Michael.”
“Ahh, you’re breaking my heart!” Walter gave her a mocking groan.
“And?”
“And---take another bite--that’s my girl--well, it took months for us to wipe that silly grin off Michael’s face!”
“Didn’t it bother him--knowing what she did for Section?” Nikita’s expression became serious again.
“Oh, I’m sure it did. I don’t think any man likes to know the woman he loves is giving “it” away--but Michael’s a realist and so was Simone. They lived two lives--one for Section--one for themselves. When they were working--they worked. When they were together--the rest of the planet ceased to exist.”
“Michael told me once, that he lived his life split in two,” Nikita murmured, lost in memories.
“Were they happy?” She asked at length.
“As happy as you CAN be in Section, but yes. It wasn’t any secret that they loved each other--adored each other!. They couldn’t have hidden it, even if they had wanted to.”
“But why did Section allow it?”
Walter shrugged, “Who knows. I’m sure the Section powers-that-be had an angle, they always do. Maybe they realized that Michael and Simone were better as a team than they were separately. All I know is they worked well together and were extremely successful operatives.”
“But then something happened to change things?” Nikita asked softly, looking at Walter with intent blue eyes..
“Yeah. They got married.” Walter said with a frown.
“So? Why would that matter?”
Walter shrugged, “Again, who knows? My guess is the Section took it as a wake-up call that their operatives were getting “too close”. Divided loyalties maybe. You know--the first commandment: thou shalt not have any gods before Section One!”
“And then the baby. . .” Nikita prompted.
“And then the baby. Rumor has it Operations nearly had a stroke over that one--but, for whatever reason, . . . well, they had the baby.”
Nikita’s face clouded over and Walter realized he had allowed the conversation to drift back to depressing territory again.
“Want anything else? Pancakes? Toast?” He asked, desperately trying to change the subject again.
Nikita realized it and gave him a weak smile of thanks. “Just a nap. I’m still kind of tired.”
“Sure kid. Look,” he said, reaching over to relieve her of the bed-tray, “I’m just down those steps. Call me if you need anything. Get some rest.”
“Thanks, Walter. You’re a good friend.”
Walter rolled his eyes comically, kissed the air at her, and left her alone.
Nikita lay looking at the necklace for a long while, before she finally fell asleep.
* * *
It was late. Walter sat in the middle of Nikita’s living room on a large throw pillow, in the lotus position. Candles flickered in glass holders all around him, and the light, smoky scent of incense permeated the room.
There was a knock on the door and Walter opened one eye in irritation. He waited hoping whoever it was would give up and go away, but there came a second knock. It was light, as if the person seeking entrance knew there might be someone sleeping and didn’t want to wake them.
Walter got up grumbling, wondering who the hell it was at 11:30 at night. He opened the door to the length of the security chain and peered out.
“Michael?” He instantly closed the door, unchained it, and opened it again.
“What the hell are you doing up? Does Madeline know you’re out of medlab?”
“I’m fine.” Michael said softly, stepping inside. He was all in black as usual, but held one arm across his body, as if giving extra support to his chest. His face was gaunt and unshaven.
“Are you nuts? You got some kind of death wish or something?”
Michael ignored him, “How is she?”
“Sit down, before you fall down, and I’ll tell you!”
Michael didn’t argue. Frowning in obvious pain, he seated himself slowly on Nikita’s couch.
“She’s better than you are, I’ll bet.” Walter snapped, sitting in a chair across from Michael and folding his arms.
“Does she know about the baby?”
“Yeah. She knows.”
Walter was shocked by the expression of total despair on Michael’s face, even though Michael tried to hide it by tilting his face towards the ceiling. After several moments, Michael seemed to regain control of himself.
“Can I go see her?”
“Are you asking my permission?” Walter retorted with mild sarcasm. Then he sighed. “She’s asleep.”
“I only want to see her. I won’t wake her up.”
“Be my guest,” Walter gestured towards Nikita’s bedroom.
Michael closed his eyes and got carefully to his feet, but not without Walter realizing he was running on sheer willpower. The words from a song floated past, “love hurts”, and Walter murmured to himself, “Don’t it though.”
“Wait--you’ll need a little light.” Walter scooped up a candle and walked with Michael up the short flight of steps to Nikita’s room.
“Don’t stay too long--this ain’t a hospital and I ain’t a nurse. You pass out on me and I’ll cancel you!” Walter whispered, as he placed the candle on the bed table. To soften his threat, Walter pressed Michael’s shoulder gently, before leaving.
Michael sat in the chair next to Nikita’s bedside and watched her sleep. He wanted to kiss her but knew it would wake her, so he didn’t try. He did finger a lock of her hair as it lay against her pillow, although leaning forward to do so caused great strain on his broken ribs.
He was startled when Nikita opened her eyes and looked at him. They gazed at each other for a long moment before Michael leaned over and took her hand in his.
He wanted to say he was sorry, but he’d said it so many times before that he felt saying it again would be meaningless.
But Nikita beat him to it, saying with soft regret, “I’m sorry, Michael.”
He couldn’t utter a sound without freeing a sob, so he squeezed her hand instead. Nikita knew it was all he could do; she saw the glistening tracks of tears reflecting in the pale light of the candle. Of all the things he could have said or done, his tears spoke the loudest. This was the Michael of her heart, of Simone’s heart as well. A Michael that, if even for a moment, allowed her to see his soul as it was, loving but wounded by life. She loved him all the more for the glimpse inside, even if she knew it would only be for a moment.
She carefully leaned forward and kissed his hand as she held it in hers. “You shouldn’t be here, Michael, and you know it.” She said quietly, sitting up straighter and wiping the tears from his face with her hands. “I’m all right. Really. I am.”
She could tell by his expression he knew she was lying, but was grateful for the lie. He nodded and seemed to compose himself. “I’ll come by again tomorrow, if that’s okay.” He said finally.
“No. I’ll come see you. Walter!” Nikita called downstairs.
“Yeah?” She could hear his footsteps rapidly coming up the steps.
“Get Michael back to medlab. I’ll be fine. Please. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”
Michael pressed his lips together, watching her with hungry eyes, wanting to shout his love for her, but afraid to make a sound. He nodded instead and allowed Walter to help him up.
“Night, Kita.” He said finally, but Nikita heard the “I love you” he meant.
* * *
Operations walked briskly into the conference room, then stood by as the rest of Red team assembled for the briefing. Madeline followed him, with a pensive look on her face.
“All right, let’s hurry up!” Operations snapped, as two operatives lingered in the doorway. They immediately realized Ops was talking to them and quickly made it over to the table and sat down.
“This,” Operations said grimly between his teeth, “is retired General To Nhan.” The overhead screen showed an elderly man of oriental descent seated at an outdoor cafe, drinking tea with a young woman.
“During the Viet Nam conflict in the 1960's, he was in charge of all American POWs in North Vietnamese interment camps and their interrogation, for the Red Chinese government. He has recently left the safety of North Viet Nam for the amenities of the West. Our mission, people, is to capture General Nhan alive. We believe he is the one man that can tell us all we need to know as to whether American POWs are still being held in North Viet Nam. Details of the mission are logged into your PDA’s. I want four scenarios drafted and an equal number of back-ups. “ Operations stopped speaking for a moment as if to gather himself together, before continuing.
“I can’t begin to stress what is at stake here. For thirty years, hundreds of American military men have been listed as POWs and MIAs, with the American government either unable or unwilling to secure their release, or account for what happened to them. General Nhan is probably our last best hope of getting the information we want on these missing men. I will not tolerate any failures in this assignment! Is that clear?”
“Yes sir!” Only one man spoke, Walter. The rest of the team nodded.
“Then let’s get to it! Michael, I want you and Walter in my office in an hour. You’re dismissed!” Operations turned on his heel and stormed out.
“Ole, General Nhan. I’ll be damned.” Water muttered aloud.
“You know him?” Nikita asked as she got to her feet.
“Yeah,” Walter said with a frosty expression. “I know him.”
* * *
Nikita sat on the mat in the exercise area to take a breather from her workout. She leaned back against the wall, then moved quickly forward again. “Ouch!”
“What is it, Nikita? Michael asked, suddenly appearing at her side.
She reached beneath her T-shirt, and pulled on a chain. “Nothing. I just leaned back on my necklace. She opened her hand to show him the angel in the palm of her hand.
Michael looked at the angel closely and frowned. “Where did you get that?”
Nikita shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. Walter said I had it in my hand when I got back from Colorado. It’s beautiful though, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” Michael said, then turned his head away, as if he were suddenly upset.
“Michael, is there something wrong?”
“No.” He still faced away from her.
“Michael,” Nikita reached around, took his chin, and drew his face to hers. “What’s the matter--and don’t tell me nothing.”
“It’s just, it looks like the medal that Simone always wore.”
Nikita realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it. “Simone?”
“Yes. She said it was all she had of her father.”
“But it couldn’t be---” Nikita turned pale, thinking of the dream she’d had.
“No, it couldn’t be Simone’s. She had it buried with our son.” With that, a visibly upset Michael, got to his feet and walked away.
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