| Subject: The Anguish of Angels 5 |
Author:
Rox
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Date Posted: 18:16:19 01/14/02 Mon
In reply to:
Rox
's message, "The Anguish of Angels (Sequel to Shadow of Simone)" on 22:01:11 01/02/02 Wed
“No,” Madeline said, stepping forward and pressing the hypodermic against his bare throat, “I’m afraid not.” Immediately, Michael’s head fell forward against his chest.
Madeline gazed at him for a long moment, waiting for the drugs to take affect. Even as she did so, she wondered if she hadn’t lost her mind along with everyone else lately! She paced the floor debating if she shouldn’t just cancel him; she knew Michael hadn’t been abducted, despite Nikita’s reports to the contrary. Michael had gone rogue and had tried to kill Operations. It was that simple. But. . . .with Michael gone, and Operations fresh from his successful mission to kidnap the General, what would prevent Operations from continuing to lead other missions? It would take time to replace Michael--and Operations would not last long in the field, no matter how well this last mission had gone. There were few things in this life that Madeline’s cold heart valued, but Operations was one of them.
And with Michael dead, Section would certainly lose Nikita as well. Madeline knew if she canceled Michael, she’d also have to cancel Nikita--if Nikita didn’t save her the trouble and do it herself.
She stood in front of Michael and gently cupped his chin and lifted it. No, Michael still had value to the Section. With a little reprogramming, Michael could be made to believe he really had been kidnapped, and through Nikita, Madeline would control him in the future. Her decision made, Madeline commanded, “Michael, I want you to listen very carefully. Do you understand?’
“Yes,” came the soft, drowsy reply.
“You were kidnapped from your home, but you have no detailed memory of the event. . .”
* * *
Madeline came into Operations office. She closed, then leaned against the door.
“Well?” Operations said sternly.
“I found evidence of brainwashing. There were several drugs in his system, all of which could have caused this episode of paranoia.”
“Will he recover?”
“Yes. Unless of course, you plan to cancel him.”
Operations looked at the crumpled photograph and the accompanying letter on his desk. He’d read the letter through several dozen times. Simone had asked for the lives of her husband and child. He’d failed at saving one--he hoped he wouldn’t have to fail her again.
“So none of this was Michael’s fault?” He asked hopefully.
“None of it.”
“Do we know who did this to him?”
“Not yet. We may never know. Michael has no memory of his abduction.” Madeline paced slowly back and forth as she spoke.
“I see. Well, I’ll leave his disposition up to you. If you feel he’s a risk, cancel him, but if there’s any way he can be salvaged, do it.”
“Fine. I’ll let you know my decision in a few days.” She flashed him a brief smile.
“Good.” Operations looked down at Simone’s letter, picked it up and put it in his inside coat pocket. The photograph he would burn later.
“Now, how is the General? Have we gotten anything out of him yet?”
Madeline gave a deep sigh and folded her arms, “He’s been a tough nut to crack.”
“And?” Operations frowned.
“And he’s an old man and not in the very best shape.”
“Madeline, I need to know what’s in his head and I need to know it now!” Operations said adamantly.
“If I go too quickly, he could die and you will have nothing.” She said quietly.
“Tell him we have his granddaughter. He knows I can be as ruthless as he is. Let’s see who remains standing--tell him knight takes queen--and it’s his move.”
Madeline nodded, locked her wrists behind her back and turned to leave.
“One other thing.” Operations said quietly.
“Yes?”
“When you have the time. Would you like to explain how Nikita and Birkoff ended up in a hotel room in Paris?”
“Of course. When I have the time.” Madeline said, with a faint smile and left.
* * *
“Good evening.” Madeline stood in the doorway of Michael’s section quarters. “May I come in?”
Michael was seated on his bed. He nodded and gestured at a nearby chair. Madeline stepped inside, shut his door, and sat down.
“You said you wanted to speak with me?” Michael said.
“Have you remembered anything yet?”
Michael paused a moment, before shaking his head. “Nothing. Not even being in Paris. I remember the briefing on General Nhan and going home. . .and I’m not even sure why I did that. We were on close quarters standby. What reason did I have to do that? “
‘Why indeed?’ Madeline thought to herself. “Chances are, you were compromised while you were in the hospital in Colorado and we may never find out by whom or why. Nevertheless, I’m satisfied there is no lingering programming and I’m returning you to duty.”
“But I tried to kill Operations--” The idea still shocked him.
“And Nikita stopped you, and no one was hurt.”
“Where is she?”
“I’ve had her confined to quarters. She’s been very upset by what happened in Paris. I think she’d be pleased if you went to see her.”
Michael nodded, puzzled at Madeline’s seeming encouragement.
“Oh, one other thing. Since it’s been compromised, I’ve had your personal things removed from your house. Get with me tomorrow afternoon and I’ll have you reassigned to agency housing. I understand we’ve got a couple of very nice addresses to choose from.” She smiled at him briefly and turned to leave.
Nikita closed her eyes tightly when she heard the knock on the door. Was it Madeline come to tell her Michael was gone--or Walter, there to try to comfort her? Whoever it was entered, but Nikita was too afraid to look. She had been crying on and off since they had returned to Section and Madeline had confined her to Section quarters. She had no more tears left.
“Nikita.”
Nikita slowly raised her head off the bed and looked towards the door. Michael stood just inside it. He was alive--or she’d finally lost her mind and he was an apparition.
“Michael?”
“I’ve come to take you home,” He said softly, then added, “Josephine.”
Nikita understood that she couldn’t throw herself into his arms--that he was warning her they were under surveillance again.
“Thanks, “ she said with a tremendous smile. “I was going a little stir crazy.” She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her coat. Michael helped her on with it. It was an excuse to touch her, if only briefly.
“Let’s go.” He said.
The drive to her apartment was the longest of Nikita’s life. Michael drove her but made no attempt to touch her or even speak the entire distance, although his glances at her spoke volumes.
When they reached her apartment, Nikita opened the door and they both went inside.
Nikita heard him lock the door, then felt his hands lightly stroking up her arms from behind as he helped her out of her coat in the darkened apartment. She trembled at his nearness, then remembered with despair, that here too, they were under surveillance.
“Kita.” Michael’s lips kissed her name against her ear, and Nikita forgot all about surveillance or anything else. She turned in his arms and fell against him, hungry to touch him, to taste him. They kissed in a frantic rush, their bodies entwined in the darkness, touching at every conceivable point.
It was forbidden! But, oh so much more the sweeter for it! This was all worth dying for--all worth living for! Michael slid his eager hands up the smooth skin of Nikita’s back, then down again, pressing her closer, as her hands mirrored the actions of his.
“Michael, Michael,” she panted against his mouth as he began to undress her. His name was a prayer to her; she chanted it dreamily as he worshiped at her breast.
By mutual consent they ended up in her bedroom, but Nikita pulled away from Michael when he suddenly turned on the light next to her bed.
“Michael! Don’t!” Nikita crossed her arms across her breasts with alarmed modesty.
“Why not?” He asked, smiling at her.
“You know why not!” She hissed back, remembering how angry she had been when Walter had told her about the cameras being back. “You put me back under surveillance!” She looked at the ceiling wondering where to stand to get out of the line of sight. She backed against the wall and Michael followed her over, moving with the grace of a panther stalking its prey. He took one of her wrists in his hand and kissed it, then the grasped the other and kissed it as well. Then looping her arms around his neck, Michael pressed her against the wall with a searing kiss. When he finished he gave her an amused smile and whispered, “Walter took them out again.”
She smiled then, radiantly and gave him his reward, “”Oh, Michael, I love you so much!”
“Kita,” he said tenderly in response and kissed her again. Words were inadequate to describe what he felt for her, so he showed her instead.
With reverence. . . he kissed the bruise on her breast, where his bullet almost took her life.
With gratefulness. . . he felt her body enclose his with her love.
With awe. . . he watched her eyes close as she arched against him in need.
With passion. . . he poured out his life within her and held her close.
With humility. . . he learned the true meaning of life: that love is all and all is love.
Michael knew ultimately they might be torn apart again--life in Section was unpredictable and he had no control over that. But he made one promise to himself--to treasure the moments, no matter how few they were given. Whatever else happened, they would at least have that to cling to.
The phone rang--Michael looked down with regret at Nikita. It was Section and he would have to leave her now and they would have to go on as before.
Michael leaned down and kissed her disappointed face. "Come," he said softly, his voice conveying his regrets, "Josephine. . ."
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