By Michelle Fields
Copyright September 2000
Revised August 2004
This story contains dialogue and spoilers for the LFN episode “Third Party Rip-off.”
There were days when Chris Davenport hated
Section One more than on others. Today was one of those bad times. To say he
disliked his new assignment was putting it mildly. It was one thing to spy on
terrorists and criminals but quite another to be forced into spying on one’s
comrades, especially when you happened to be fond of the target of your
scrutiny.
Davenport had liked Mahleah after the first
conversation he’d had with her and when a few days later he heard her teasing
Michael and be rewarded for her efforts with a half-smile she gained his
admiration as well. Then there were the sing-alongs she held whenever they were
returning from a mission on a long, boring flight. He smiled now at the memory
of her infectious version of “Every Breath You Take” – truly an inspired choice
from her Section’s Greatest Hits list.
Now he was forced to keep an eye on her at
Madeline’s request. It had seemed like such a waste of time. She spent most of
her time either performing or rehearsing at “The Copperhead” when she wasn’t at
Section itself. Of course, she was seeing a man after her shows. They
were very discreet, he’d only been able to catch them together a few times, and
he had yet to see the man clearly. As it turned out this was what Madeline
found the most interesting item in his reports. He had been told in explicit
detail that he was to discover the identity of this mysterious lover.
He watched her now as she talked and
laughed with Walter. It was interesting that they remained on such good terms
after their breakup. Of course, it seemed that Madeline had been behind that
split as well. He rubbed his temples
wearily. Anytime Madeline took that
much interest in an operative it meant she had personal plans for that person –
never a good thing. As he looked up, he
noticed with a start that Michael was watching him. He swallowed. If he weren’t
careful, he’d end up between Scylla and Charybdis.
*******
Walter looked across the table at the man
that had been introduced as Joe. When Mahleah had invited him to the club
tonight, she had promised him surprises and Joe was one of them. It was obvious
the two of them knew each other well, an opinion confirmed when Joe leaned in
over the music to say about the woman on stage, “She wears you out just
watching her sometimes, doesn’t she?”
Walter chuckled, “She does indeed. So, how long have you known her?”
Joe studied him for a long moment before
replying, “Mahleah says I shouldn’t admit this to many people but that I can
trust you – we’re very old friends. In fact, I remember watching her on stage
when she was a little girl.”
Walter nodded. He had expected something
like that. What possessed Mahleah to allow this man back into her life? Did she
not realize how incredibly dangerous it was for him to be here? What lay
between them that was so important that she refused to give him up in her new
life?
He cleared his throat, “Well Joe, were you
and Mahleah ever romantically involved?”
Joe laughed long and heartily. “No,” he
finally answered, wiping tears from his eyes. “Never. I think you have me
confused with a mutual friend.”
“Obviously,” Walter muttered, feeling a
little embarrassed. “Tell me what she was like growing up. She tends to keep
details pretty secret.”
Joe looked thoughtful, “That’s
understandable. Was there something in particular you wanted to know about?”
Walter frowned. It appeared Joe wasn’t
going to just start sharing intimate stories either. He wondered what skeletons
Mahleah had in her closet that would require her friends to be so guarded. He glanced up at the stage. Seth, the lead
guitarist was trying to coax Mahleah into playing on the next song.
She shook her head, “Not tonight.”
He looked back at her old friend and asked,
“What’s the deal with Mahleah and guitars?
She obviously loves the music, but she’s convinced she doesn’t play very
well. Frankly, I find that difficult to believe.”
Joe’s face lightened. This was a topic he
felt safe in discussing. “Well, I doubt she’ll ever play as well as she sings,
but since she has one of the most extraordinary voices I’ve ever heard that’s
not an insult. She constantly amazes me with the way she pulls emotional layers
out of a song that make it completely fresh. As for the guitar, though, it is
true she rarely manages to pull out that spark of ‘divine fire’, if you will.
She’s very sensitive to the fact that, in her mind, she never manages to live
up to her own standards.”
“Why is that?” Walter asked. He had a hard
time believing that any of Mahleah’s music could be considered mediocre. One
look at her on that stage should be enough to convince anyone that she poured
out her heart and soul in every note.
“A mental block,” was the honest answer,
“One that frankly I don’t know if she’ll ever fully overcome. Has she ever
mentioned her father to you?”
“Yes, a little -- she mostly just mentioned
that after her mom died he drank a lot.”
Joe nodded, “David had a miserable time
letting go of Catriona. Has Mahleah mentioned that he was a guitar player, and
a damn good one?”
At Walter’s nod, he continued, “David could
have been one of the greats, except for two things: Catriona didn’t like the
road and after the accident that killed her, he tried to drink himself to
death. When Mahleah was a little girl, she desperately tried to please David
any way she could. She discovered that her next door neighbor was an old blues
man himself and convinced him to give her guitar lessons.”
“Did her dad appreciate it?”
Joe sighed, “Yes and no. From all I can
tell, David didn’t know what he wanted in those days other than to be numb
enough to feel no pain. I saw her reveal her little surprise for him. She
walked up on stage and played ‘Crossroads’ with all the heart in her. I’ve
never seen anything like it. David was flabbergasted, but then he decided if
that’s what she wanted he would teach her himself.”
“A mistake,” Walter guessed.
“That’s putting it lightly. He didn’t have
the patience or the temperament to teach a dog to howl at the moon at that
point in his life. He made her practice until her fingers would bleed. It’s
really a long story, but to get to the point, he made sure her technique was
flawless but she’s never been the same since. Every now and then I see flashes
of that moment when she stalked onto that stage for the first time fearless and
confident, but usually what I hear is divorced from the soul she pours so
effortlessly into her singing.”
Walter looked back to the stage where
Mahleah stood clutching a mike, her eyes tightly closed, and her head falling
back. “Do you think there’s a chance she’ll conquer the past?”
Joe looked thoughtful, “As I said, she does
manage occasionally, but I don’t know if she’ll get over it in this lifetime.”
“That’s terrible,” Walter said softly. “She
can sing anything, but it seems like she’d give that up to play like her dad.”
“She can’t sing anything,” Joe corrected. “She has to have a connection to the
song. If she doesn’t like it, she’s like anyone else struggling to make
something come to life. I heard her at her first recital in grad school. She’d
been taking voice lessons to improve her range and her teacher had picked most
of the selections. I hate to admit it, but most of those songs sounded like any
run-of-the-mile pretty voice were performing them. There was a couple that you could tell she really liked and they
were fabulous, but overall that concert definitely got mixed reviews. The next
weekend she dropped by my club, and I convinced her to jam with me that night.”
He shook his head in remembrance, “You wouldn’t have believed it was the same
woman. No, Mahleah has to have the right material. She told me her voice
teacher was going to kill her for belting out rock and blues numbers all night.
I gave her a few good suggestions about what her teacher could do with
himself.”
At that moment, Mahleah walked over to
their corner table and grabbed Walter by the hand. The band was playing “Walk
This Way” under Seth’s leadership.
“Come on,” she winked at him, “we need to
dance.”
A little startled, he let her pull him to
the floor.
Joe watched with amusement as Mahleah and
her pony-tailed friend cavorted around the wooden floor. He glanced up as a man
seated himself next to him, in the shadowy nook.
“It’s about time you showed up, Mac,” he
scolded. “I think Mahleah’s gotten tired of waiting on you.”
Chapter Two
MacLeod watched Mahleah and Walter spinning
around the floor together. “They’ve been lovers,” he commented.
Joe nearly choked on his beer. “Mahleah and
Walter?” he sputtered.
When MacLeod nodded, Joe looked at him
skeptically, “Why do you say that? Has she said something?”
“No, it’s the way they dance together.”
Joe studied the couple for a moment, and
then shook his head, “Mahleah always dances a little flirty if she likes the
guy and the song. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s not just the flirtatiousness, it’s
how physically comfortable she is with him.” Mac explained. He looked at his
friend, and smiled. “It’s just an observation, Joe. I’m fine with it.”
“Well, he did ask me if I’d ever
been involved with her. I thought that was odd at the time. I mean, I’ve never
thought of her that way. Guess I always figured I was too old.” He caught Mac’s
ironic look and laughed with him. “Or not old enough as the case may be. Sure
you’re okay with it?”
Duncan shrugged, “Mahleah’s a very physical
person and always has been. I’m glad she had someone to find comfort with in
this new life.”
Joe took another sip of his beer thinking,
“Yeah, you were just glad it wasn’t Michael, weren’t you? What is it with this guy that makes you so
jittery, Mac? Or, are you thinking of another man you’re glad to see her away
from? One nearly as old as you are.”
Outwardly, he replied, “I think it’s great
that she’s so comfortable with herself and her sexuality. Things could have
been so different considering her past.”
MacLeod frowned in remembrance of Kenneth,
then smiled wryly, “Well, Tessa and I may have had something to do with that
while she was growing up. When you live for six years with a couple who are not
shy about public displays of affection, it kind of becomes second nature to
you.”
Joe couldn’t resist asking a question for
the chronicles, something he had often wondered about, “Mac, when you and Tessa
moved after Mahleah turned sixteen…was that entirely for her benefit or for
yours as well?”
Mac understood the delicate subject Joe was
tiptoeing around but wasn’t offended, “Had I started to realize what a
beautiful young woman Mahleah was coming? Yeah, if I’m completely honest I did.
It wasn’t the main reason we left, which as you know was to allow her and her
dad to get on with the business of repairing their own relationship, but I did
think it might be better if there was some distance between us. When she was
around fourteen or fifteen, Mahleah suddenly started acting shy around me. It
made me realize that she was starting to become more aware of herself sexually
and I didn’t want to complicate our relationship even further.”
Joe leaned forward, “So just when did it
hit you that she wasn’t a little girl anymore?”
Mac laughed, “Mahleah grew so fast that she
wasn’t a little girl very long,
actually, but that doesn’t really answer your question. Well, it’s such a
gradual thing that it didn’t really dawn on me exactly how mature she was
becoming until I choreographed that gypsy dance for her to perform at the
talent contest. Those dances tend to be passionate by their very nature and in
our last rehearsal, things went a little too smoothly. It was a little too
easy, during the course of the number, to forget exactly how old she was. It
made both of us uncomfortable for a while. When she turned sixteen, I decided
it would be best for all concerned if Tessa and I just left.”
“So when did you start seeing her the way
you do now?”
Mac’s face grew soft with reminiscence.
“That’s not an easy thing to pinpoint, but the beginnings of our present
relationship began I think, after Tessa’s death, when I looked at her in a
hospital bed after the attack by Kenneth and later when I stayed with her at
night to help her sleep. She was so tormented by his viciousness that I could
have easily torn him apart with my bare hands. No one should ever be subjected
to the kind of wounds he inflicted on her, but I think her mental scars were
even worse. She used me as a security blanket to chase away the nightmares. I
remember waking up one morning – I’d been dreaming about Tessa – to find myself
kissing her. She just looked at me and
felt more concern for my grief than for her own pain. I think I lost my heart
then, and didn’t even realize it.”
He snapped out of his reverie to realize
whom he was talking to, and looked sheepish, “I guess you have plenty of
material for your journals, Joe.”
Joe
tried to lighten the moment, “Oh, well I thought seeing the way she danced to
Led Zeppelin songs might have had something to do with it.”
Duncan laughed, “They do seem to bring out
the wild child in her, don’t they?”
Mahleah plopped down at the table, slightly
out of breath, “Wild child in whom?”
“Mac was just mentioning it seems he has a
rival,” Joe teased her. “Now surely you aren’t cheating on him?”
She rolled her eyes, “He knows better.” She
leaned in and gave MacLeod a long, lingering kiss that had Joe looking away and
clearing his throat.
Walter walked up, a couple of drinks in
hand, “Am I interrupting?”
“Nah,” she declared, “I hope one of those
is for me.”
“Yep, Tony sent it special,” he handed her
a glass of fizzy liquid. “So, do I rate
an introduction?”
Mahleah looked at him for a long moment,
and then said, “Absolutely, Walter honey, this is Duncan MacLeod. Mac, this is Walter.”
The two men studied each other and she
could see that the name had registered with Walter. Mahleah took a large sip of
her drink, wondering what the two would think of each other.
Finally, Walter commented, “So you’re the
guy she’s calling to in Gaelic every night, huh?”
“Walter!” Mahleah exclaimed.
Duncan gave a mock frown as he said, “I
guess that would be me, unless you’re sleeping with another Highlander as
well?”
She nearly choked as she swallowed another
large gulp of her Tony special. “It would serve you right if I was,” she fumed.
“When’s Connor coming to town? Maybe
he’d show a girl a better time.”
“Nah,” Duncan dismissed the idea, “He’s too
old.”
“Look, who’s talking,” she laughed. “Mr.
Ancient Bones…” She broke off as he had pulled her into his lap and was quite
effectively preventing her from making further comments on his age.
Joe frowned. It wasn’t like Mahleah to be
so indiscreet about something as important as how old Mac really was. What was
going on?
When their kiss ended, Mahleah raised an
eyebrow, “You still haven’t told me what you were talking about as I walked up
– who was the wild child you two were talking about?”
“Oh, we were just commenting on your
youthful preferences for a certain band,” Joe said cheerfully.
She was puzzled, “I liked a lot of bands
then, I still do.”
“Oh, but there was something about Led
Zeppelin that just made you want to dance.”
She groaned and put her hands over her
face, “Oh God, am I ever going to get to live that down?”
“Nope,” Mac told her. “After all, your Dad
and I had a rough time getting them not to expel you for that little incident.”
“Oh, you missed the warm up to that whole
deal,” Joe informed him. “You should have seen the hootchie-kootchie she put on
for Kevin and his band when they were practicing.”
“Oh my God,” she was mortified. “You saw
that? Why? What were you doing at that
rehearsal?”
“Drawn by the music, my dear,” he told her.
“Kevin was very talented.”
“Yes, he was,” she agreed, still stunned.
Mac glanced at the two of them. Mahleah had
turned bright red. “What’s that phrase you like to use, ‘needing back story
here’?”
Mahleah wet her lips nervously, “I just got
carried away at one of the band’s practices.”
“You didn’t do a strip tease?”
“NO!” she protested.
Joe laughed, “No, all her clothes stayed
on, which was pretty miraculous really. Those poor boys had smoke coming out of
their ears by the time you finished.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this before?”
Mac inquired with curiosity.
“Well….” Mahleah was at a loss for words.
Joe helped her out, “I imagine it never
came up, because at the time she didn’t want you to know she was sexually
active. Later, she probably just didn’t think of it.”
If anything, Mahleah was flushed more
crimson than before, “Joe, you don’t know that I was having sex with Kevin. Do
you?”
She was asking if he’d watched her that
closely before she became Immortal and the answer was no. “That’s true, I
don’t,” he replied honestly, “but from my point of view it looked like if you
hadn’t been you were going to be in the rather near future.”
Mahleah hid her face, “Stop it,” she
pleaded. “I can only take so much torture in one night.”
“You guys really must be old friends,”
Walter said with a chuckle. “I’ve never seen anyone so thoroughly embarrass her
before.” He was a little confused about the relationships, but realized no one
seemed likely to explain further.
She peeked through her fingers to groan
again, “Oh God, here comes someone else to witness my misery.”
Michael was walking up to the table.
Mahleah lunged for the rest of her Clearly Canadian water in an attempt to cool
her flaming cheeks. When he arrived, he
looked around the table, plainly expecting an introduction.
“Michael, this reprobate is Joe Dawson;
don’t let his pleasant innocent demeanor fool you. Duncan you’ve already met
before.”
“Not formally,” Michael responded. “Good to
see you again.”
“And you,” Duncan politely replied.
Mahleah noticed the intense way Michael was
looking into her eyes and hearing Seth and the boys cranking up another
familiar Aerosmith song, she began humming “Love in an Elevator.” Hopping out
of MacLeod’s lap, she grabbed Michael, “Hey, they’re playing our song, Musashi.
Come dance with me.”
Before anyone could say a word, she’d pulled
him onto the floor. Walter whistled, “Now, there’s something I never thought
I’d see.”
Joe was much more interested in Mahleah’s
glass. He fixed his stare on Walter, “Okay, what’s in the drink you brought
her?”
Walter blinked, “What are you talking about?”
“Mahleah’s been acting just a little bit
off ever since the two of you came back and she downed this glass. What’s in
it?”
Walter looked at them apologetically, “I
asked Tony to put a little something in her water to make her relax.”
Defensively he explained, “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t trying to get her drunk
or anything. It’s just she’s been so tense the last few days that I thought a
few drops of something a little stronger might help her unwind a little.”
“Yeah, well it worked,” Teresa said,
picking up their empty glasses. “She’s having a grand time.” She looked back
admiringly at Michael, “Who could blame her?”
Joe looked nervously at MacLeod. How was
the Immortal taking his girlfriend dancing with not one, but two other men?
Actually, he looked bemused.
Sensing Joe’s scrutiny, he looked over and
said, “Like you said earlier, Joe, if Mahleah likes both a guy and a song her
dancing gets a bit come-hither. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’m glad you realize that,” Walter told
him, “Can’t say I wasn’t a little anxious about meeting you after my own spin
around the floor with her.”
“I was afraid you’d make some more
pronouncements based on body language,” Joe joked.
Mac turned his eyes back to the floor,
“Well, I can tell you that Mahleah’s probably slept with Michael.”
“What?” Joe and Walter were both
dumbfounded.
Mac shook his head, “No, they haven’t had
sex, but there’s an intimacy between them you only get from spending the night
next to someone.”
“You can tell all that?” Walter inquired,
“How?”
Mac’s lips quirked, “I’ve known Mahleah for
a much longer time than we’ve been lovers and I know how she responds in
different situations. I’ve watched her dance with many people over the years.
No, she and Michael haven’t had sex, but I think they have made out a little.”
He winked at Walter, “On a purely professional level, I’m sure.”
“How are you seeing this Mac?” Joe wanted
to know. In his line of work, these kinds of clues were invaluable.
“It’s the atmosphere between them – a mix
of uneasiness and familiarity – there’s a tension there that’s never been
released.”
Walter stared at him, “And you’re okay with
that?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? Mahleah’s not likely to cheat– she’d view
that as a betrayal not only of me but her own code of behavior. I know she
loves me and I’ve been told Michael’s in love with someone else, so why should
a dance bother me?”
“You’re the first man I’ve ever known to
take having Michael as a rival that lightly,” Walter commented.
MacLeod’s eyes glittered as he said, “Oh,
if he were a rival I’d take him much more seriously.”
The dancers began moving back to their
corner and as Mahleah arrived she announced, “Mac, you don’t have to see me
home. Michael can do that.”
Duncan’s eyebrows shot up at that unexpected
message, but then Mahleah curled up in his lap again and whispered, “Apparently
we’re being followed. Michael thinks someone is outside the club waiting for
us.”
He pulled back and looked into her dark
eyes. Concern and a smidgen of fear had replaced the frivolity.
“I know you don’t take these people
seriously, but I do,” she told him. “Please Mac; leave as quietly as you can.
There’s a backdoor through the kitchen.”
He smiled gently at her, “I do take them
seriously, I just don’t want them to dictate my life.”
“Please,” she repeated fervently, “for me.”
He sighed, “All right, for you.” He kissed
the tip of her nose. “Come with me. I want to say a proper goodbye.”
They rose, with the others watching. “It’s
been an interesting evening, gentlemen. I wish I didn’t have to rush off.”
“But you do,” Mahleah insisted.
Duncan looked straight at Michael, “I know
you’ll make sure she’s okay.”
“Yes,” Michael agreed.
“Mac,” Mahleah punched him in the shoulder.
“You know quite well that I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” he agreed. “I also know that just
one person can’t watch everything, all the time.”
She shook her head with mock disgust,
shooting him an evil look, “You know, sometimes I could swear you were born in
the 16th century or something.”
Joe coughed nervously, and Michael turned
his attention to the Watcher as the Immortals walked toward the kitchen and its
escape route.
“I believe you are an old friend of
Tony’s?” he asked.
“Yes,” Joe agreed.
“Good, then your appearance tonight won’t
seem out of the ordinary.”
Teresa came out of the kitchen in a hurry,
and past the swinging door they could all see their friends locked in a heated
embrace. Joe and Walter turned away after a moment, the intensity of the moment
making them feel like intruders.
Michael continued to stare a little longer
than the others. His heart ached a little at the sight and its reminder that
Nikita refused to even speak to him right now. He watched Mahleah and her lover
to remind himself of what had once been. Love and Section didn’t mix very well
and he couldn’t promise Mahleah that she would be able to maintain her
relationship with this man she so desperately loved. He swore to himself
though, that at least he would do all he could to help her keep MacLeod alive.
Chapter Three
Nikita hadn’t been resting well lately. If
she managed to fall into a light sleep, she would inevitably wake up when she
reached for Michael and found the bed empty. They hadn’t been a couple for very
long, she reflected grimly. How in the hell did the man manage to get so
thoroughly under her skin anyway?
Hey,
hey, mama, said the way you move,
Gonna
make you sweat, gonna make you groove.
Oh,
oh, child, way you shake that thing,
Gonna
make you burn, gonna make you sting.
Hey,
hey, baby, when you walk that way,
Watch
your honey drip, can’t keep away.
Dreams of any kind were far off tonight.
Someone in Mahleah’s apartment was playing music very loudly. Apparently Led
Zeppelin IV had been thrown into the CD player because she’d first heard
the raucous “Black Dog” followed by the boisterous “Rock and Roll.”
I
gotta roll, can’t stand still,
Got
a flame in my heart, can’t get my fill.
Eyes
that shine, burning red --
Dreams
of you all through my head.
She thought of the culprit as a generic
“someone” because though Mahleah frequently played music and at high decibels,
she’d never done so at such a late hour before. That only left, Nikita
swallowed hard, Michael. Surely not!
Didn’t
take too long ‘fore I found out,
What
people mean by down and out.
Spent
my money, took my car,
Started
telling her friends she wants to be a star.
She had been about to turn in to engage in
some tossing and turning when she’d heard voices in the hall. It was Mahleah’s
usual hour to return home from the club, so hearing her talking was not odd.
Though lately she didn’t always come back at her normal time, she usually had
to yell at Mick to quiet down. What had shocked Nikita was the fact that
Mahleah had called someone “Musashi.” Nikita had activated the camera outside
her door and discovered that it was
Michael vanishing inside the apartment down the hall at 3 am. What was he
doing? Surely, he wasn’t the person blasting rock music into the night? She
couldn’t imagine a more un-Michael-like behavior, but then she’d often seen him
acting uncharacteristically around Mahleah. Under the other woman’s influence
she’d seen him smile, make jokes, and even laugh.
All
I ask for when I pray,
Steady
rollin’ woman gonna come my way.
Need
a woman gonna hold my hand,
Won’t
tell me no lies, make me a happy man.
“What do you care?” she told herself
firmly. “You broke up with him. He’s free to be with anyone he wants.”
That was all true, so why did she feel like
dragging him out of Mahleah’s apartment by the ears?
*******
After MacLeod’s departure, Mahleah had
managed to get Joe to leave as well. Michael and Walter had sat together
listening to about another hour’s worth of music and Walter had filled the
younger man in on the tantalizing tidbits of information he’d heard this
evening.
Walter decided to go home while the band
was packing up, but Michael waited on Mahleah.
When she saw him, she scolded, “You really don’t have to see me home,
Michael. I walk every night by myself and I’m fine.”
“I know,” he replied, but she could tell
that he still intended to drive her home tonight no matter how much she
protested.
“How do I manage to discover every
obstinate man in the world?” she wondered.
The drive was quiet and uneventful. Michael
had fallen into his usual silence, and Mahleah, brooding on the events of the
evening wasn’t her usual gregarious self. He glanced at her from time to time,
but she barely seemed to breathe, much less move.
He walked her to her apartment amid her
jokes about what a fine gentleman that he was, and when she invited him in, he
accepted. He wanted to distract her a little from the moody silence she was
rapidly descending into, and if possible talk to her about how to prevent
catastrophe from overtaking them all.
As she let them in, she sighed, “Help
yourself to whatever you want, but you’ll have to excuse me for a minute. I
always have to get the cigarette smoke out of my hair before I can relax. I
won’t be long – just make yourself at home.”
She disappeared up the stairs, leaving him
wondering what to do next. As he gazed around the apartment, her stereo and the
shelves of CDs beside it caught his eye. It was no surprise that her collection
was both huge and eclectic. What struck him as more interesting was its
organization. While the rest of the apartment was by no means a shambles, it
wasn’t exactly neat as a pin either. A stack of unopened mail lay sprawled
across the coffee table and he could see unwashed dishes in the kitchen. The
different sections of a newspaper were scattered across the couch and yet her
CD collection was intensely organized. Not only were the disks grouped by
genre, but also by artist (in alphabetical order, no less), and according to
chronology.
Browsing through the rock section, the
words “Led Zeppelin” sprang out at him. He pulled out the fourth, untitled,
album and gazed at it thoughtfully. He had been a fan of the band back in his
college days. Rene had preferred groups like The Rolling Stones and The Who,
both of whom courted chaos at certain points in their careers, but Michael had
been drawn to the bluesy yet psychedelic stylings of Zeppelin. He shook his
head in wonder – that seemed a lifetime ago.
He remembered the stories Walter had hinted
at earlier that suggested Mahleah had a long and colorful past connected with
this music. Perhaps he could use that history to break her out of her pensive
state of mind. He smiled to himself. After his reaction to the Hendrix she’d
played in his office, she wouldn’t be expecting this. The music hadn’t really
bothered him; it had just shocked him to hear it played in Section. Yes, he
decided, it was about time that he gave her a surprise for a change.
*******
It’s
been a long time since I rock and rolled,
It’s
been a long time since I did the Stroll.
Ooh,
let me get it back, let me get it back,
Let
me get it back, baby, where I come from.
It’s
been a long time, been a long time,
Been
a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.
When Mahleah stepped out of the shower, she
was amazed to hear rock music pounding through her walls.
“Lord, my neighbors are going to kill me,”
she worried. Her next immediate thought though was, “Screw ‘em. This is just what I need right now.” Her
nearest neighbors were Mick and Nikita anyway. She really didn’t care if she
woke Mick up, he’d returned the favor any number of nights, and she fully
intended to have a chat with Nikita sometime anyway.
She dried off, slipped on pajamas and a
heavy robe, and then carrying a bottle of spray-on conditioner and a comb went
to confront her noisy guest.
Seems
so long since we walked in the moonlight,
Making
vows that just can’t work right.
Open
your arms, open your arms
Open
your arms, baby, let my love come running in.
It’s
been a long time, been a long time,
Been
a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.
As she came down the stairs, she saw him
scanning music titles and couldn’t resist saying, “I always knew you were a
closet Jimmy Page fan.”
When he nodded, her jaw dropped open. “I
was kidding,” she said, stunned. “I
figured you were playing Zeppelin because of all the tales you probably heard
from Walter tonight.”
“That, too,” he agreed.
She blinked, “You’re a Jimmy Page fan,
seriously?”
“I used to be – a very long time ago.”
She nodded, and sitting down, began to
spray the ends of her hair with conditioner. “Excuse me while I do this. I
don’t have much of a beauty regimen, but if I don’t want my hair to look dry
and scraggly I have to treat it every night.”
He found a chair and sat down also as he
said, “So, are you going to tell me all about the strange fascination this band
has over you?”
She groaned, “I’m going to kill Walter.
Well, they wrote cool songs. I mean, listen to this one.” “The Battle of
Evermore” was playing. “They’re talking about Tolkein’s ‘Lord of the Rings.’ I
happen to think that’s pretty damn neat.”
“So, is that the song you danced to and
nearly got expelled for?” he quizzed.
She shook her head, “No, that was
‘Kashmir,’ actually.”
He nodded, being easily able to picture
Mahleah belly dancing to the song.
She let out a long breath as “Evermore”
finished and the strains of an all too familiar song began.
There’s
a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold
And
she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
When
she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With
a word, she can get what she came for.
Ooh,
ooh, and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
“I have a real love/hate relationship with
this band, actually,” she told him slowly, “and especially with this song.”
He looked at her with puzzlement and she
smiled, “When I was a kid, I thought it was one of the most beautiful songs
ever written. I guess I still do, but I have a checkered past with it.”
She took a deep breath, “I guess I’ve told
you my dad was a guitar player. Well when I was a kid, I used to sneak into the
gyp joint down the road where he played, just to hear him. Inevitably, some drunk would holler up,
‘Hey, play “Stairway to Heaven”, man’.
I didn’t realize then, just how much my dad hated playing that song over
and over, every night.”
There’s
a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
‘Cause
you know, some times words have two meanings.
In
a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings,
Sometimes
all of our thoughts are misgiven.
“I started learning to play myself, and
actually walked out on stage one night to perform with his band. I was so proud
of myself and he seemed to be proud of me, too. He decided if I really wanted
to learn that he’d teach me. We spent hours every day practicing. He made sure
that my technique was flawless and that I could sing and play at the same
time.”
Ooh,
it makes me wonder,
She
pursed her lips, “It was never easy, and he didn’t have the most patience in
the world, but somehow I learned. He made sure I knew every note, every word,
every chord, and every lick of this song.”
There’s
a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And
my spirit is crying for leaving.
In
my thoughts, I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,
“But why,” Michael didn’t understand.
Ooh,
it makes me wonder,
Ooh,
it really makes me wonder.
“Musically it’s a very interesting piece,
and was quite a challenge for me to learn. When I could play all the parts, and
sing while doing it, he informed me that he never wanted to hear me play it
again. I was to be an original and not give into the idiots who might demand
that song.”
And
it’s whispered that soon if we all call the tune
Then
the piper will lead us to reason.
And
a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And
the forests will echo with laugher.
He nodded, finally understanding. Her
father wanted her refusal to be based upon principle not ignorance.
If
there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now,
It’s
just a spring clean for the May Queen.
Yes,
there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There’s
still time to change the road you’re on,
And
it makes me wonder.
“What else happened?” he prompted, sensing
there was more to this story.
She was silent for a moment, but then
continued, “One night Dad decided I was good enough to join him in the band for
the night. We were playing something he’d written himself – the first song he’d
been able to write since mom died. I was so happy to be playing with him at
all, and this was a special piece for me…” her voice trailed off.
Your
head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know,
The
piper’s calling you to join him,
Dear
lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your
stairway lies on the whispering wind.
When she began talking again, her voice was
quiet, “In the middle of the performance Billy, a barfly that practically lived
in that place, popped up to say, ‘Hey, how about playing a real song, like
“Stairway to Heaven”?’ Dad dropped his
guitar, jumped off the stage, and started pounding on Billy. It took two men to
pull him off, and he ended up spending the night in the county jail.” She looked at Michael with shiny eyes, “For
a long time, I thought the whole mess was my fault. If only I had played
better, Billy would never have wanted us to play something else and my dad
wouldn’t have been insulted or arrested.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I managed to let myself off the
hook for that one.”
Watching how she had instinctively curled
her feet up under her in the chair, Michael doubted if that scar would ever go
away completely. They sat in a companionable silence, listening as “Stairway to
Heaven” hit its crescendo.
And
as we wind on down the road
Our
shadows taller than our soul
There
walks a lady we all know
How
everything still turns to gold.
And
if you listen very hard
The
tune will come to you at last.
When
all are one and one is all
To
be a rock and not to roll.
And
she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
Michael decided that story had done nothing
to improve her mood. Surely, there was a funny incident attached to one of
these songs somewhere. He thought back
over Walter’s intelligence and realized there was a dance unaccounted for.
“I heard that you did another dance for a
much more private audience.”
Her eyes widened, then she began to comb
out her hair, which conveniently hid her face as she spoke, “Walter’s got a big
mouth. Yes, my dad wasn’t the only
guitar player in my life, remember?”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, Kevin Davis. Now, while my dad’s favorite guitar hero was
Jimi Hendrix, Kevin’s was definitely Jimmy Page.” Her concentration intensified
on freeing her hair from every tangle.
“There’s something you have to understand: music is pretty much my
life. I can’t imagine going on without
it. There’s only been one time in my life when I couldn’t sing, and I’m not
going to discuss that with you tonight. Music didn’t just inspire me to sing, though.”
“You had to move as well,” he volunteered,
“To dance?”
“That’s right. I told you guys when we were
playing truth or dare that I wanted to be a ballerina, but I grew too tall.”
She glanced down and grinned, “They said I had the wrong body type, so
eventually I ended up taking lessons in about every dance form going. Well,
there are certain songs that I kind of have to move to -- I can’t control
myself. ‘Kashmir’ is one of them and
another Zeppelin song does that to me, ‘Whole Lotta Love’. One night, Kevin,
and the boys in his band were rehearsing and they struck up that particular
song and I couldn’t help it…. I started just swaying and ended up putting on
quite a performance. I guess part of
the problem is that song seems to get into my bones. There’s something about
the relationship between the drums and the guitar…” He saw a shiver run through
her. “Anyway, I’d never let myself go like that before and the wilder I got,
the more the band’s music responded.”
She finished with the comb and tossed her
hair out of her face, “It was a rather liberating experience – very different
from anything I’d ever experienced before.”
“How so?”
She smiled, and he could see her run her
tongue along the edge of her teeth unconsciously, “It was the first time I
discovered the effect music could have on me. Before that night, it was usually
voices that I noticed the most. Of course, I paid attention to the music, but
it had never hit me in that seductive way. It was an epiphany. I’d never had a
rush like that dancing by myself before, but at the end of the song I looked
down and realized my right hand was twisted up in my skirt like it was a sheet.
I’ve been a slave to the rhythm ever since.”
“So I imagine,” he said dryly.
She laughed, “Until that night, I’d never
realized the effect I could have on an audience.”
“Especially a male audience,” he added.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It was quite
powerful, and led, I suppose to my veil dance to ‘Kashmir’ that nearly got me
kicked out of school.”
She was smiling now, and the music was
still good and loud. Michael moved to sit in the floor next to her chair.
“Mahleah, you do realize that you’ll
probably have to give MacLeod up, don’t you?”
She bit her lower lip, “Yeah, you and I
both know that, but Mac won’t give up that easily.”
“He’d rather die, than break off the
relationship?” Michael managed to insert considerable doubt into the question.
She raised her head and looked him in the
eye, “Yeah, bizarre isn’t it? I
wouldn’t know anyone else like that, would I, Musashi?”
******
Davenport was exhausted. He had spotted a
figure leaving from the back door of “The Copperhead” and followed as
discreetly as he could. Unfortunately,
the tall man had seemed to sense his presence and had gone all around Paris several
times before finally losing him. One minute he was there and the next minute
Davenport couldn’t figure out where he had gone.
Since joining Section One Davenport had
gotten to know Paris extremely well but the man he trailed was familiar with
every back street and alley in a way the operative had never seen before. He had yet to catch a good look at the man’s
face, and so was hesitant to confirm his identity to Madeline. Surely, there was any number of tall, dark
men in Paris? Perhaps Mahleah had found
this stranger’s similarity to her old lover a comfort. He refused to report
that she was meeting with someone from her past until he was certain. It could
be a matter of life or death for them all.
Chapter Four
After the excitement of the previous
evening, Mahleah slept in late. When she finally managed to pry herself away
from her pillow, she remembered her resolution to speak to Nikita. She decided
to invite her neighbor over for brunch to apologize for the noise last night,
and then work Michael into the conversation.
She was beginning to feel a little guilty
for her self-absorption over the past few days. She had been so completely
wrapped up in how to prevent Madeline from discovering Mac that she had paid
little attention to Nikita’s refusal to associate with Michael. It touched her
that he would demonstrate so much concern for her problems despite what he had
to be suffering himself.
When she knocked on Nikita’s door, however,
she discovered that her peacemaking efforts would have to wait, as there was no
one home. She sighed and returned to
her own place for food and katas. Exercise might wipe away some of the cobwebs
from her brain and allow her to think clearly about the decisions ahead of her.
********
Nikita had gone for a walk in a nearby park
in an attempt to quell the contradictory tide of emotions threatening to
overwhelm her brain. Last night she had
made a conscious decision that Michael’s presence in Mahleah’s apartment at
such an ungodly hour of the morning was none of her business and since she
really didn’t care anyway, she might just as well go to bed. Unfortunately, the
music continued to blast down the hall for a couple of hours.
Something kept telling her that it was
unlikely that Michael had begun a romantic liaison with Mahleah. She might not
trust his ambition but she had a hard time picturing him rushing to another
woman’s bed quite so soon, unless he were under orders. Mahleah had worked
closely with him during his stint as Operations it was true, but she doubted
Mahleah would “grab” him as soon as he was available.
In fact, the only circumstances in which
she could envision Mahleah welcoming Michael to her bed would be as a
comforting gesture – a method of easing his pain. She frowned, what pain? The man had demonstrated no regret for his actions – no concern
over the loss of so many lives. What had he been out to prove: that he could be
just as ruthless as Paul Wolfe? If so,
he could forget any notion of her being in his life as anything but a disinterested
co-worker.
She swallowed hard, remembering the joy she
had felt such a short time ago. He had seemed so dedicated to ensuring their
relationship would last. She had never seen him be so unguarded with her before
and so his reversion back to the model of everything that was Section was like
a physical blow to her. When she had
walked away from him, she had literally felt ill.
Although the decision still hurt, she
didn’t know if she could have lived with any other one. If the price of being
with Michael was voluntarily losing another piece of her humanity, she couldn’t
afford to pay. During her six-month “escape” from Section last year, she’d
learned just how precious a commodity such feelings were. In the time since,
she’d found her soul being chiseled away slowly, bit by bit. She had to draw a
line somewhere.
Her cell-phone rang and when she answered,
she heard the familiar litany, “Josephine.”
*******
Nikita stuck her head in Michael’s door, “I
thought there was a briefing.”
He was standing at his window, but turned
to look at her when he answered, “Twenty minutes.”
She nodded and started to leave, wanting to
spend as little time as possible with him, but he wouldn’t let go so easily.
“I called you in early so we could talk.”
She was surprised by the uncertain tone in
his voice, “Oh,” she said, “Okay,” and stepped fully into the room. She’d known
this discussion was inevitable, but that didn’t mean she felt prepared for it.
Surely, it was better for both of them to let the past go.
Instinctively, she assumed a formal posture
with her hands behind her. She saw Michael studying her and knew that he was
trying to gauge her reactions. She was determined to keep things as cool as
possible.
“We should stay together,” he told her softly.
She glanced at him, but realized that was a
mistake. Looking into his deep green eyes would only weaken her resolve. Her
answer was calm and precise, “I don’t think I want that anymore.”
He apparently decided to tackle the issue
she was avoiding, “You didn’t like the way I acted when I had to take charge.”
What a typically-Michael understatement,
she thought. “You became a different person.”
“No, the same person just playing a
different role – something we all have to do in here to survive.”
The uneasy feeling she’d had all day got
worse. His statement epitomized her misgivings about their relationship. She
was expected to morph into whatever shape Section required of her, but some
containers she’d never be able to fit in. The past had seen to it. If it was so
easy for him to take whatever part was necessary at the time, could she ever be
sure that his feelings for her were not a characteristic of only one of his
personas? What happened to her when he either tired of that role or Section deemed
it inappropriate? No, this could not
work.
“It doesn’t matter how you intellectualize
it,” she said sadly. “I feel the way I feel.”
He stepped in closer and tried to kiss her.
Though it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, she turned her head at
the last minute so that his lips only brushed her cheek. He had proven
repeatedly that she was susceptible to his touch, and she couldn’t let it sway
her now from her decision.
Tears in her eyes, she turned away and
left, knowing that in the end this would be the best thing for them both – too
many secrets lay between them. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked
away, leaving him alone once more.
Chapter Five
Madeline and Operations were nearing the
end of one of their habitual meetings over food, and she had been amused to
discover that she could still surprise him by her ruthless practicality. It
wasn’t that he disagreed with her action in eliminating the recently infected C
Team, as he had put it “better to lose the hand and save the body,” but rather
her impersonal attitude. He would
discover that she could be just as dispassionate about everything – which was
what life in Section had taught her.
“We have an internal matter to discuss,”
she informed him.
“What’s that?” he inquired.
“Michael and Nikita,” She could see his
face instantly darken.
“What now?” he demanded obviously irritated
at having to deal with the couple yet again.
“It’s unresolved,” she pointed out.
“I thought she pulled back,” he responded.
“She did,” Madeline acquiesced, and then
added, “but I think Michael will persist.”
He was ready to dismiss the question for
the time being. “These two have been dancing around this thing from day one.
Maybe we should just let it go for now.”
This was not her plan however, “Actually, I
was going to suggest a hard wedge.”
She had surprised him again, “You think
that’s necessary?”
“I do,” she replied. She did not intend to let Michael get too
comfortable too quickly.
“What mode?”
“I’m mapping out a behavioral
strategy.” It was quite lengthy and
involved, but in the end, should achieve her desired goals.
“Think it will work?” He sounded a little
dubious.
She smiled, “We’ll watch and see.”
There was one last item on his agenda,
“About the Velden profile – shouldn’t Mahleah be the operative posing as a
dancer? If I recall, she has
experience.”
“Nothing professional, but yes, she has
extensive knowledge of various dance forms,” Madeline replied smoothly.
“So, why are we relying on Nikita?”
The dark-haired woman smiled, “Nikita will
be thoroughly believable as an amateur, but beyond that Mahleah is now a class
three operative. Nikita is only class two.”
She saw understanding spread across his
face. “Rank does have its privileges. You’ll have to make sure that Nikita
knows that.”
“It’s already arranged,” Madeline informed
him.
*******
Operations was pleased with Madeline’s plan
as far as it went. He much preferred to
see Mahleah rising in status to Nikita.
Nikita was a good operative most of the time but she required too much
maintenance. She always had to know why things were done, or how she could be
expected to complete her assignments. This whole situation with Michael was
typical. She had been attracted to him
from the time of her recruitment. Now, when she finally got what she’d always
wanted, she still wasn’t satisfied. Instead of being proud that she and her
lover had managed to pull off quite a coup while Michael was running Section,
she punished him for being too good at his job. Ridiculous!
Section seemed to have a deleterious effect
on the women working there, he reflected. Even Madeline didn’t seem to be
immune to it. She had always possessed a razor-edged intelligence, and ambition
to match, but she hadn’t always been quite so cold, so methodical, so….
ruthless. At one time, she had seemed
to possess sympathy for her victims, now they were just a means to an end.
Their own relationship had fallen into that
trap, as well. At one time, he truly believed she cared for him, but these days
she went through the motions solely to bait the trap they’d set for
George. He truly appreciated Madeline,
but he longed for a second in command with more warmth, more passion. Mahleah appeared to be his best candidate,
able to hold her own with the Mistress of Section herself, and he had his own
designs for the beautiful, tough chanteuse.
*******
Davenport swallowed hard as he entered
Madeline’s office. She was insisting on his report, and he really had little to
tell her. He still couldn’t decide whether the man Mahleah was dating was
Duncan MacLeod. As expected, Madeline didn’t appreciate the news.
“This is unacceptable,” she told him
coldly. “You’ve had them under
observation for days now. Why is it so difficult to confirm his identity?”
“They’re very careful,” he explained. “If
they go anywhere together, they find the most secluded spot possible. I’ve seen him on several occasions and yes,
he does resemble MacLeod, but I’ve yet to get a good look at his face. It could
be a coincidence. Maybe she likes men with his physical description.”
Madeline observed him coolly. “It could be
quite unfortunate if you continue to be unable to catch a good look at him. The
results could be quite tragic I’m afraid.”
Damn the bitch! He thought viciously. Just where was she hiding Jennie anyway? If
it were only his life on the line he’d tell her to go to hell in a heartbeat,
but until he knew Jennie was safe from Section’s clutches he would be forced to
do whatever it took to keep her alive.
“What do you suggest?”
She leaned forward in her chair. “MacLeod
lives on a barge across from Notre Dame. I suggest you keep it under
observation. If the man on the barge contacts Mahleah, we’ll know.”
He sighed inwardly. He still didn’t understand why Mahleah, or
Duncan MacLeod for that matter, rated such attention but it was out of his
hands. He left, troubled at heart over his role in Madeline’s latest chess game
and the fate of the only person in the world who gave a damn about him.
******
Madeline leaned back in her chair. If Mahleah were, as she suspected, secretly
meeting with MacLeod then they would be caught soon. The “honorable” operative
would have no choice but to concede to Madeline’s wishes.
A smile crept across her face. The pieces were slowly but surely falling
into place just as she had anticipated.
Chapter Six
Walter looked up when he saw Nikita walking
by. “Hey sugar,” he called. “Why so
glum?”
He had a good idea why she looked so
sad. Michael and Nikita’s relationship
had been the top item on the Section grapevine for years. He wasn’t sure what
exactly had happened between them, but obviously the two of them were miserable
about it.
She came over and gave him a wan smile,
“Just straightening out a misunderstanding.”
“With Michael, does that mean the two of
you made up?”
She shook her head, “No, it means I told
him that things are never going to work between us.”
“What do you mean?” he was discouraged.
He’d loved the sight of two of his favorite people together at last. Now, she was bursting one of the few bubbles
of happiness he’d discovered in Section life lately.
“I just realized I have no idea who he is,
Walter. The man I thought I knew would
never have been able to order the things he did while in charge of Section,”
she said sadly.
This was too much for Walter. Section had
taken away the two women he’d cared the most for these last few years. Now,
Nikita had love laid at her feet and she was too afraid or too oblivious to
pick it up. Temper boiling, he decided
to explain a few things to her.
“Sugar, you know exactly who Michael is –
he’s the man that’s been devoted to you from the first day you walked in that
door. We all understand he’s no saint
and yes, he has lied, cheated, manipulated, and killed both for the sake of the
job and for you as well. You were living on the streets before you came here,
Nikita. You should know that life’s tough all over. If you’re wise you’ll take
the blessings that have been given to you and be grateful for them. Section’s
no paradise, but you have friends and you have a man that loves you. Maybe you
don’t have the freedom you want, but there plenty of other people in the world
that don’t either.”
He saw her eyes start to glisten with tears
and gave her a hug, “I don’t want to sound mean, sugar. I just want you to
understand what you’re throwing away.
Plenty of people in here would kill for what you two have. I know you’ve
doubted several times that Michael really loves you, but remember I saw him during
the six months you were believed dead. He was devastated. I’d never seen anyone
hit so hard before. Sure when Simone died he grieved, but he went on with his
duties. When you were gone, though, he literally couldn’t function, – he
screwed up on so many missions that I was afraid they’d put him in
abeyance. Can’t you see, when you came
back you rescued him?”
She couldn’t bear to listen to this
anymore. She hugged Walter back and walked off.
Walter cleared his throat which was feeling
rather constricted as Birkoff, carrying an object in a clear containment case,
approached.
“Hey Walter, I could use a hand with this,”
he called.
Walter pulled himself together, “Yeah, what
can I do for you?”
“Well, we need to find out where this thing
comes from,” Birkoff told him.
They were peering at it intently through a
magnifying glass, discussing its probable origins when they suddenly became
aware that they were not alone. Through
the case, they caught a glimpse of a very striking female figure. Glancing up,
Walter noticed the rest of the package matched the shapely legs.
“Walter?” the vision of loveliness said,
with an Eastern European accent.
They both stood there, in awe of this Venus
in their midst, as she smiled and moved closer to them.
She reached out a hand to give something to
Walter, “Here you go, thanks.”
How many times lately had he berated the
lack of desirable female company? Here was a goddess before him, and she
actually knew his name. He managed to shake off the spell she was casting a
little. Good lord, he was acting like he’d never seen a beautiful woman
before—there was no doubt about it, he could definitely use some female
companionship.
“Valerie,” he greeted her.
She smiled at him provocatively and
laughed, “It’s an impressive unit, but how did you get five significant digits
out of it?”
He cleared his throat. If that was the game
she wanted to play, he’d oblige, “Well, years of experience.”
Valerie turned her attention to Birkoff
who, Walter could immediately see, was considerably out of his depth.
Oh, yes, she’s not Mahleah, Walter thought
to himself. But a man only gets
ambrosia once in a lifetime. Valerie would be a wonderful companion in the
nights that seemed to get longer and longer every week.
Chapter Seven
Mahleah had been called in for the
nightclub profile. She arrived slightly behind schedule as she had been
arranging a meeting with MacLeod when she returned. They had a lot to talk
about tonight.
She changed into her mission clothes in the
small, cramped bathroom on the plane. She'd been issued all leather: form
fitting pants, halter-top, knee-high boots, and a long Matrix-style black
coat. She assumed the coat was to allow
her to hide her gun, which she would have to tuck in her back waistband. When
she included the lethally sharp goodies Walter had made up especially for her
and the familiar weight of Tora at her back, she was as well armed as she could
be, she supposed.
The boots had a considerable heel on them,
and so as she stepped into the view of the rest of the team, she got a couple
of ear-piercing wolf whistles.
"Lord," Sykes said
appreciatively. "You have to be one of the tallest women I've ever seen in
that getup."
"Whatever," she dismissed. In her current mood, she was more likely to
cut a man down than flirt with him.
Sykes got the message and left her
alone. She sank down into an empty
seat, and stared out the window moodily. How could she convince Duncan that it
was in all of their best interests for him to quietly slip out of the
country? She hadn't been joking about
his obstinate personality. If he thought she was only concerned about his
safety, he would most likely refuse to go.
Mentz saw her frowning, and plopped down
beside her. "Hey," he nudged her, "don't we get a sing-along
this trip? You don't get to travel with
us often."
She gave him a small smile, "I don't
know if I'm up for that today."
He handed her a small Walkman and
headphones, "Here, maybe this will improve your disposition."
She raised an eyebrow, but took the
radio. Scanning through the various
stations, she finally hit a familiar tune. Drawn by an irresistible impulse,
she began belting it out along with the song in her ears.
I've
been a bad, bad girl, I've been careless with a delicate man
And
it's a sad, sad world when a girl will break a boy just because she can….
And
I need to be redeemed to the one I've sinned against
She suddenly noticed she was receiving some
very unfriendly looks from Nikita, and Michael wasn't looking very pleased with
her either. Oops, she thought. "So what would an angel say, the devil wants
to know", indeed. Apparently, she had inadvertently struck a nerve.
She realized she had an opportunity to do
Michael a favor here. On this plane, Nikita was a captive audience and she
could use music to make a plea for their relationship. Now, all she had to do
was think of the right song.
She sat watching Michael for a long time,
trying to imagine everything he wanted to say to Nikita if given the
opportunity and an attack of verbosity. She recalled the history of the couple
as told to her by Walter and what she herself had observed between them.
She had decided long ago that for a man
with few words, he had the amazing knack of choosing just the right ones
repeatedly to infuriate his lover.
Suddenly remembering the first song she’d performed from her Section's
Greatest Hits list, she smiled, and pulling off the headphones began humming.
Sykes and Mentz immediately looked up with
anticipation. Michael looked relieved that she'd switched tunes, but Nikita
still looked annoyed. She wasn't sure why her friend was so irritated with her,
but she would persevere.
How
many times do I have to try to tell you
That
I’m sorry for the things I’ve done
But
when I start to try to tell you
That’s
when you have to tell me
Hey…
this kind of trouble’s only just begun.
The opening lines immediately drew
Michael’s attention. He looked at Mahleah a little startled; especially when
she went on to sing:
I
tell myself too many times
Why don’t you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut?
That’s
why it hurts so bad to hear the words
That
keep on falling from your mouth
Falling
from your mouth
Falling
from your mouth
Tell
me
Mahleah threw her heart into every
syllable, knowing it could be her best chance to help Nikita understand Michael
a little better.
I
may be mad
I
may be blind
I
may be viciously unkind
But
I can still read what you’re thinking
That
you’d be better off
Besides…
Why
can’t you see this boat is sinking?
She had been staring straight into Nikita’s
face with an unblinking gaze but now her eyes closed involuntarily as the music
moved through her.
Let’s
go down to the water’s edge
And
we can cast away those doubts
Some
things are better left unsaid
But
they still turn me inside out
Tell
me
Why
This was the moment she could feel it.
Opening her eyes, she stood and moved toward a visibly unnerved Nikita.
This
is the book I never read
These
are the words I never said
These
are the dreams I’ll dream instead
She stopped her movement toward the blonde
and slowly began reversing her course, heading toward Michael.
This
is the joy that’s seldom spread
These
are the tears
The
tears we shed
By now, she’d moved past him, so that he
and Nikita were now looking at each other, while she finished the song from his
back.
This
is the fear
These
are the contents of my head
And
these are the years that we’ve spent
And
this is what they represent
And
this is how I feel
Do
you know how I feel?
‘Cause
I don’t think you know how I feel
I
don’t think you know what I feel
Mahleah went back to her seat, leaving them
to their own decisions. Nikita held Michael’s gaze for a long time, then
swallowed and silently moved back to her own seat. Mahleah inwardly urged
Michael to follow her, but he didn’t, moving instead to the other end of the plane.
Mentz looked at her sympathetically, “Maybe
you should try ‘Walking on Broken Glass,’” he suggested.
She wearily shook her head, “No, that would
be a little too much. Give them some time. They have to work this out for
themselves – no one can do it for them.”
He glanced out the window, “Ah, you
wouldn’t have time anyway. I think we’re starting to descend.”
“Hey Nikita,” Sykes called jovially. “Who’d
you tick off to pull this profile? It’s
too bad we have to miss your little audition.”
Mahleah was grinning with her male comrades
and inwardly sighing with relief that she wasn’t the one being paraded in front
of the target. When she heard Nikita’s icy reply, though, she didn’t know what
to say, “Apparently level two operatives are expected to perform all the
demeaning assignments that level threes turn down.”
Before she could protest, they began their
final approach and prepared for their roles in the mission shortly to come.
******
While the thought of Nikita posing as an
exotic dancer was unpleasant to Michael, he knew by Section standards, it was a
rather mild profile for her. She
possessed all the skills required to pull it off and he only had a moment of
panic, quickly suppressed, when Birkoff announced Nikita was getting unexpected
visitors. She still needed time to finish downloading the list they were after,
yet he knew she could handle the situation.
Suddenly, he knew he was going to cover her
though. She had always claimed that he put Section before her, now he would
break Section protocol and see how she reacted. The tables would be turned:
would she put him before the disapproval of Madeline and Operations?
Leaving Sykes to secure egress, he
disregarded Birkoff’s admonitions to stay put and shot the men going after
Nikita, then returned to his former position. Everything else went like
clockwork.
Half an hour later during the plane ride
back to Section, he saw Mahleah had fallen asleep, using her long leather coat
for a pillow. He really wasn’t sure why she’d been profiled for this
assignment. Nikita had performed the dancing required and Sykes and Mentz had
provided adequate backup. If something had gone wrong, he would have been
grateful to have her at his back, but as it had happened she was wasted.
He edged closer to the sleeping woman. She
had provided the most exciting moment of the evening for him. Somehow she had found the exact words he’d
been longing to say and poured them out with gut-wrenching honesty. It was the
key to her character, he realized. Mahleah might not be poetic in her speech
but her soul communicated deeply felt emotions through music. Recalling the
intensity of her katas, he amended that statement to rhythm. She’d joked about
being a slave to it, but there was a lot of truth to that premise.
As he examined her, he saw she was frowning
in her sleep. Her body was curled up as if she was cold and her fists were
clenched. Seeing her lips move, he bent to hear her murmurs better. He could
barely make out the words, “Feumaidh thu
falbh,” which meant, “You’ll have to go.”
“Chan
fheum thu guth, fàg,” she continued. [You needn’t say a word, leave.]
Her voice grew louder and she became more
agitated, “Fàg roimhe tha ammoch,
Donnchadh, gun luath agus gu samhach.” [Go before it’s too late, Duncan,
quickly and quietly.]
Michael caressed her cheek with the back of
his hand. He’d had luck before in using Gaelic to calm her down, maybe it would
work again and make her think of happier times with her Scottish lover.
“Ssh, mhurninn,” he soothed. “Caidil a nis. [Sleep now, I’m here.]
Ssh, do saighdear-bàrd gad cha fàg.
[Your warrior-poet won’t leave you.] Bidh
mi le thu, daonnan.” [I’ll be with you, always.]
She sighed and her lips curved upwards, “Daonnan, m’annsachd,” she agreed. “Daonnan.” [Always, my best beloved,
always.]
He straightened since her forehead had
straightened and her hands relaxed. He pulled off his jacket and laid it over
the flesh exposed by the halter she was wearing. Warmth might contribute to
happier dreams.
As he turned, he saw Nikita watching him
with a strange look on her face. It took him a moment to recognize it as a
flash of jealousy and he nearly laughed. In the past, he had it was true, tried
to rouse those instincts in her to feel the only response he could have during
his blood-cover days. Now, though, that behavior was in the past.
As he continued walking away from Mahleah,
Nikita followed him, asking, “Is she okay?”
“Nightmare,” he said succinctly.
“Oh,” she still seemed a little uncertain.
“It just felt weird seeing you comfort her like that.”
“She’s my friend,” he said simply, and
going to his seat, closed his eyes for a short nap. When he returned to
Section, events were likely to become hectic.
Chapter Eight
Davenport had spent hours watching Duncan
MacLeod’s barge with no result. The man had stayed indoors the whole time and
no visitors had called. The long lonely surveillance gave the operative far too
much time to meditate morbidly on the fate of Jennie. Where was Madeline
keeping her? Was she even alive?
Growing up, he had often felt that no one
or nothing cared for him. He’d never known his parents, living in an orphanage
until he felt old enough to run away at seven. He’d met Jennie on the streets.
Ten years older and streetwise, she’d taken him under her wing and taught him
the harsh lessons of survival without ever resulting to cruelty. A combination
of mother and older sister, she’d remained the only person he’d ever truly
allowed under his skin.
He had no desire to cause trouble for
Mahleah or this unknown man, but if it came down to a choice between operative
and family, he knew what he had to do.
At the edge of dusk, he saw the lights in
the barge go dark, and seconds later MacLeod emerged from the cabin and began
walking away. Davenport knew that if this was the same man he had followed
before he could afford to make no mistakes. Madeline had made it plain that if
he couldn’t settle the question she’d asked tonight, Jennie would die.
Swallowing hard, he prepared to follow the
tall, dark figure and prayed to a deity he’d nearly ceased to believe in that
he would prove skillful enough to track his prey wherever it led.
*******
Madeline surveyed Nikita’s appearance with
approval. The young woman was definitely coming a long way in her professionalism
and emotional control. Unfortunately, some of her previous attitudes had seemed
to pass to her former mentor, which would have to be remedied. Michael might be
the future of Section One, but he would rise to power when she decided. With
the arrival of Nikita in his life, it seemed that Michael had started to
acquire a power base. It was time for the supports he depended upon without
conscious thought to begin disintegrating under his feet.
Looking across at the blonde operative
seated before her, Madeline asked, “Do you understand what just happened on
your mission?”
“I haven’t debriefed, but it was a
contained dispersion. There was an incident at the second mark.”
She was amused at this obvious attempt to
avoid the true topic of conversation. “How many times do you think Michael can
break position before a team goes down?” She saw a crack break through Nikita’s
icy demeanor, as the woman began getting defensive.
“I didn’t ask for his help. Why don’t you
talk to Michael?”
She gave Nikita a pitying glance. Her
statement summed up the entire problem. Instead of having an emotional level
two operative betraying her assignment because of emotional ties, they now had
a formerly dependable level five op doing the same. It was unacceptable and must
end.
“Have you ever heard of anyone in the
Section talk about a Type One Directive?” she inquired.
“No,” Nikita answered.
“It’s an internal dictum…a decision,”
Madeline explained. “Once it’s been made, it can’t be changed and is always
executed.” She met Nikita’s blue eyes with complete seriousness, “One has been
initiated regarding you and Michael. You two will extricate the personal
component from your relationship.”
Nikita seemed to bridle a bit, “If your
spies had been doing their jobs properly, then you would know that the personal
component of our relationship…doesn’t exist.”
Madeline nearly laughed. Was she now
supposed to believe that Nikita would be able to resist every persuasion
Michael would now inundate her with? It was highly unlikely in the extreme.
Nothing in Nikita’s makeup gave any indication that she had truly broken off
relations with her lover, but she would be easier to persuade than he would.
“Michael isn’t letting go. You will have to
make him,” Madeline stated flatly.
“You’re talking to the wrong person,”
Nikita insisted.
“I don’t think so,” Madeline allowed her
inner amusement to break out in a smile. “That’ll be all.”
Nikita stared at her for a long moment, and
then left the room. Madeline turned to her computer with satisfaction. It was
unlikely that this would be the end of the struggle, but the ante had just been
raised. She looked forward to seeing how Michael dealt with this hand. Her
smile broadened. She had no worries; in fact, she had several aces in place
that he wouldn’t be expecting.
*******
Valerie was on her way out of Section, when
she decided to drop by Birkoff’s station. His eyes sparkled as he saw her
coming.
“Hello,” she greeted him warmly.
“Hi, Valerie,” he smiled.
“Are you very busy right now?” she
inquired.
He scowled for a half-second, “I do have to
finish this, but I’m never too busy to talk to you.”
She dimpled prettily, “I’m so glad. It’s
not easy being the new person around here, but everyone has been so nice.”
“I can’t see anyone being mean to you,” he
said sincerely.
She saw him take a deep breath before
plunging in, “In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to get together some time
outside of Section?”
“That would be wonderful,” she encouraged.
He brightened, “How about tonight, then?”
She frowned. Tonight was out of the
question as she had already planned to meet Walter.
“I’m sorry Birkoff, tonight’s not very good
for me,” seeing the disappointment on his face, she suggested, “how about
tomorrow night?”
Once again his face grew sunny, “That would
be perfect…I know this great restaurant down by the river.”
“Sounds romantic,” she laughed. “I’ll look
forward to it then.”
She walked away, leaving him staring
after her. She chuckled to herself. So far so good – everything was going
according to plan.
*******
Mahleah walked by Munitions but
Walter wasn’t there. She kept wandering, waving at Birkoff as she glided by
Com. She knew she was just trying to put off the inevitable – soon she would
have to meet Mac and try to make him see how dangerous their whole situation
was. It could possibly be the most difficult fight of her life and she would be
facing her most dangerous opponent: herself.
She had already dreamed about having
this conversation on the plane ride back to Section. She had begged, ordered,
and cajoled Duncan to leave but he wouldn’t listen to her. As dreams go, it
hadn’t been as bad as she feared reality would prove eventually. She even
remembered him saying he’d be with her always. She hoped that was meant in a
figurative sense because she needed him physically out of Paris as fast as she
could get him to pack.
As she walked past Michael’s office,
she saw him through the blinds and decided to talk to him. She knocked on the
door, and after a long pause, she heard him say to come in.
She saw his look of surprise as she
walked in and shut the door behind her. She laughed faintly, “Shocked that I
didn’t just barge in?”
“It is your standard operating
procedure,” he noted.
“True,” she sat down. “So, have you
been raked over the coals yet?”
He nodded, but she could tell he was
in no mood to discuss it, so she turned her attention elsewhere.
“What’s Nikita think about your
going out on a limb for her?”
“I don’t know, she went home,” he
informed her.
She took in this information, and
then asked, “Aren’t you going after her?”
He sighed, a definite sign of mental
anguish she thought, and finally replied, “I’ve told her how I feel. Now it’s
up to her. I can’t force her to love me.”
She rolled her eyes, “No,” she
agreed. “You can’t force her to love you, but what’s that got to do with
anything? She does love you – she’s just afraid of the repercussions. Haven’t
you told her repeatedly how impossible relationships are inside these walls?
You were her mentor, maybe you trained her too well.”
“I was right,” he said softly.
Her eyes glared at him, “Don’t say
that! I don’t buy that argument for a minute. You’re not afraid of Operations
or Madeline; you’re hurt because she rejected you. This is all about wounded
ego and that’s not an excuse. You just risked your career in Section for her.
Do you regret that?”
“No,” he said firmly.
She leaned into his desk, “I didn’t
think so. Well, you’ve let her know how you feel the best way you could. Now
stop playing games and go to her. Ask her how she feels. Don’t let her go, simply because she was the first woman
to ever kick you out of her bed.”
A faint smile haunted his lips,
“Even you didn’t do that.”
She chuckled, “Yeah, well, if you
behave in her bed the way you behaved in mine, she might kick you out again.”
He raised an eyebrow, “I thought I
behaved like a perfect gentleman with you and restrained myself admirably.”
“Exactly my point,” she teased for a
moment, and then dropped back into serious mode. “Musashi, isn’t your lover
worth fighting for?”
He touched her hand on the desk
between them. “Mine is,” he said steadily, “How about yours?”
She stared back at him wordlessly,
not knowing how to answer that question.
Chapter Nine
As Michael knocked on Nikita’s door, his
heart was racing. If she sent him away this time, he wouldn’t come back.
Surely, though, she felt the same way he did.
Despite the fact that she had to have seen
him on her security monitor, she only opened the door a crack. She looked at
him cautiously and asked, “What’s up?”
He made no sudden moves that might cause
her to slam the door in his face, but quietly asked, “Did they talk to you?”
“Well, what do you mean?” she responded.
He slowly took a step toward her saying,
“Did Madeline suggest you stay away from me?”
He saw this had hit home.
“She called it a Type One Directive,” he
was informed.
He stared into her eyes until she looked
away, but his gaze continued to caress her face. “And how did you respond?”
“I didn’t,” she quickly shot back.
He mentally braced himself and went for the
telling points, “They don’t want us to be together.”
“No,” she agreed, “they don’t.”
“How about you?” he finally asked.
This was the true question. Anything else was
irrelevant to him. If she didn’t want him now, he would respect her wishes and
never ask again.
She stared at him for a long moment, and
then leaned her face against the door sighing. After that initial hesitation,
she opened the door fully.
“Come in,” she invited.
He entered the apartment and waited
patiently for her to shut the door.
Then they stood awkwardly for a moment. Their relationship had just
taken a serious step. No longer were they the operatives frustrated from unresolved
sexual tension, or the couple enjoying the first joyous moments of courtship. A
corner had been turned tonight and in their defiance of Section a commitment
had been forged. Yet, still they stood on its precipice momentarily, uncertain
how to proceed.
Michael broke the stalemate by reaching for
her hand and pulling her closer to him.
“Kita,” he said hoarsely.
She shivered and put her arms around him.
They moved together – their lips quietly greeted each other then dispensed with
the formalities in open exploration.
******
All the way to the cottage, Mahleah
pondered Michael’s words. Was she
guilty of the same fear that had been keeping Nikita away from Michael? She
thought there was a profound difference between them in that Michael belonged
to Section, and Duncan did not.
“Is your lover worth fighting for?”
Of course he was, without question. Had she
been relying too much on their Immortality to see them through this whole
situation? She’d been thinking breaking
off with him now would be bearable because, after all, they had forever, didn’t
they? No, she sadly answered her own question, they didn’t. Just because the possibility existed that
they could spend centuries together didn’t mean that fact was carved in stone.
Michael and Nikita had Section to contend with but for her and Mac there was
always the Game.
She had been exceedingly careful in making
sure to elude any surveillance, yet she couldn’t help but feel, when she
reached her destination, that she was being watched. Although she examined the
area closely she couldn’t spot anyone and so put it down to her justifiably
paranoid imagination.
Instead of climbing the wall tonight, she
was on the right side of the block to go through the gate. As she passed the honeysuckle he had brought
from her faraway childhood home, she paused. The bush was thriving: its leaves
were green, healthy, and beginning to spread out. The vibrant orange blooms
were gone now – their delicate beauty but a memory – but with nurturing they
would return in late spring next year. She could feel Duncan’s presence inside
waiting for her and moved on.
She stood by the door just looking at him
for a moment. She loved him for his inner qualities and his image was
permanently branded on her brain so it wasn’t often that the sheer force of his
physical presence struck her. Dear God, the man was simply beautiful. As if to
tantalize her with what she would miss, every feature caught her eye, and her
heart, all over again.
Ironically he had chosen to play a song
that already began the argument she was expecting tonight: Smokey Robinson’s “I
Second That Emotion.”
Maybe
you wanna give me kisses sweet
Maybe
you’d go away and never call
And
a taste of honey is worse than none at all
Oh
little girl
He caught her staring and grinned, “I hope
that look means I’m on the menu tonight.”
Her mouth had gone dry and she licked her
lips, “Appetizer, main course, and dessert in one delicious package.”
In
that case I don’t want no part
Well
that would only break my heart
If
you got the notion
I
second that emotion
He chuckled, “Shouldn’t that be my line?”
She walked into his embrace, and just stood
there, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.
Maybe
you think that love will tie you down
And
you ain’t don’t have the time to hang around
And
so it makes you wise to break the rules
Oh
little girl
“Rough day?” he whispered into her hair.
She squeezed him tighter, “Are there any
other kind?”
“Oh yeah,” he asserted. “There are normal
days and then there are the ones when I don’t get to see you. That’s much worse.”
In
that case I don’t want no part
Well
that would only break my heart
If
you got the notion
I
second that emotion
So
if you feel like giving me
A
lifetime of devotion
I
second that emotion
She kissed him and chills went down her
spine. Her feelings were too raw this evening, too intense. He was lingering,
his lips sliding against hers and his tongue building a slow, sweet fire that
ran through her nerves and clouded her brain. She made a small noise of
protest. It was too much, insanity in fact. How could one kiss undo her
willpower so completely?
He sensed her hesitation and pulled back,
but didn’t comment. Instead, he gestured to the stereo, which was now pouring
out the opening notes to a familiar ballad, “Unchained Melody.”
“Despite your fondness for originals, I
figured the U2 version would set the mood better. I swear I think sometimes if
you ever left me, it would be for Bono.”
She laughed, “Well, he has a better voice
and sense of humor than you, but I’m sure his wife would take offense.”
Oh
my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time
He stretched out a hand, “Dance with me,
mhuirnin.”
I
need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me.
Lonely
rivers flow to the sea, to the sea, to the open arms of the sea.
Lonely
rivers sigh, “Wait for me, wait for me. I’ll be coming home, wait for me.”
Though, it had been years since the last
time they had actually danced together, their bodies still easily slipped into
movement with each other. She pressed her cheek to his, and closing her eyes,
wrapped herself in his warmth and familiar scent. His breath stirred her hair,
and his right hand caressed her back as his left played with her fingers. She
felt him shift and his mouth grazed her cheekbone and traveled down her neck.
She leaned her head back and marveled at the trust that allowed her to give him
free access to her throat. There were few people indeed that she gave that
liberty – she had learned that much from her past.
Oh
my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time.
I
need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me.
She pulled away, and he looked at her
questioningly. She smiled and ran her hands along his shoulders, then began
unbuttoning his shirt. She slowly ran her fingers into the tops of his
trousers, catching the fabric and pulling it out. She began following the shirt
around behind him, and repeating the gesture finished freeing the garment and
pulled it off him. She blew softly between his shoulder blades and was rewarded
by a shiver that set the muscles of his back to quivering. Just as they
stilled, she bent and ran her lips up the flesh in his lower back, carefully
avoiding the spine. She could hear him breathing harder. A mischievous gleam in
her eyes, she slid a fingernail, ever so lightly, up his backbone.
He seemed to choke for a second, then
quickly turned, and pulled her into a hungry kiss. For the time being, reality
and reason faded away beneath passion and pleasure.
********
Michael was falling into a light, contented
sleep when he heard Nikita ask softly, “Why were you at Mahleah’s apartment so
long the other night?”
He forced his eyes open and replied, “She
needed someone to talk to.”
“Why?”
He yawned, and then told her, “Madeline has
been asking questions about her boyfriend, and Davenport has been following her
around the city.”
He saw her frown as she digested this
information. “I know Madeline insists on knowing everything that goes on in
Section, but why would she send Davenport on surveillance?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
She was quiet for so long, he was about to
think she’d finally gone to sleep, but she turned on her side away from him and
said, “Michael, why wasn’t Mahleah asked to be the one to audition at that club
tonight? She has a lot more experience than I do.”
Now, he frowned, “I’m not sure. I wondered
why they sent her at all. She would have been useful if things had gone wrong,
but there was nothing for her to do.”
He could feel her nod, “I know, and there’s
something else. When I was getting my dress and wig, Madeline came in to
inspect my choices. During the course of the conversation she happened to
mention that Mahleah refused to perform and since she was level three and I was
level two, I was now expected to carry out the assignment.”
He sat up a little in bed, “Madeline never
just ‘mentions’ anything – there’s always a reason.” In fact, a very ugly scheme was beginning to unravel in his mind.
She seemed to pick up his thoughts, “What’s
she up to, Michael?”
“It’s payback for Bergomi,” he said grimly.
“The three of us made a powerful team and now she’s trying to sow dissension
between us. She only said that about Mahleah to cause friction between the two
of you.”
“I should have seen it before,” Nikita said
grimly. “Level three, my ass. She’s
never hesitated to have you do any dirty work and you’re level five. So, what should we do now?”
He slid down in bed and wrapping an arm
over her, snuggled up behind her. “We don’t let her succeed, and we don’t let
her worry us. Sleep now, Kita. Madeline
will still be around in the morning.”
**********
Mahleah opened her eyes to find Duncan
propped on his elbow beside her.
“What are you doing?” she asked sleepily.
He began playing with a strand of her hair.
“I just figured it was my turn to watch you sleep,” he said.
“Hmmm, why don’t you join me?” she
suggested.
He ignored the question and said, “I meant
to tell you about Morgan.”
“Oh yeah,” she agreed. “Morgan MacLeod,
your first sword-master. What about him?”
“Morgan was a woman,” he informed her.
Her eyes had been trying to close again,
but now they snapped back open, “Oh, really? Didn’t you say she was your
teacher before you became Immortal? That’s an odd occupation for a Highland
woman, isn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”
“I had my reasons,” he replied, “but I
wanted to tell you about her now because you should know how much you resemble
her.”
“Is that so?” she sat up in bed, “In what
way?”
He examined her closely, “Same height, same
color eyes, although her hair wasn’t as lovely as yours.”
She smiled, “Well, that’s good to know.”
“Yeah, as you pointed out she was
considerably out of the norm for a Scottish woman, so she pretended to be a
man. That’s how she became my teacher.
She was one of the first women I ever saw naked.”
“What?”
“Well, Cassandra was the first one, but I
gained a pretty good lesson in anatomy one day. Morgan was bathing in the loch
and I got quite a show.” He eyed her breasts and added, “Your figures are
similar, too.”
She was beginning to get angry. Was he trying to tell her that all these
years he’d only been with her because she reminded him of an old flame?
He recognized the look and calmly said, “I
thought you had the right to know because what you’re thinking right now isn’t
true.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking!” she
fumed.
“Oh yes, I do,” he chuckled. “I can still read your face like an open
book.”
“So, was Morgan as readable?” she asked
sarcastically.
“No,” he shook his head. “She was a great
deal older than you, and had learned to hide both her thoughts and her secrets
quite well. Actually, after I discovered she was a woman, I called her
Morgaine.”
She was comparing their names, “Mahleah,
Morgaine, oh God, did you have to name me after her?”
“I didn’t name you,” he calmly said. “Your
parents did.”
“But you suggested Mahleah, and they liked
it,” she pointed out. She could feel
her cheeks flaming hot with anger.
“I didn’t name you after Morgaine,” he told
her. “In fact, that leads me to what you were thinking: my feelings for you are
quite separate from what I felt in the past for her.”
She scowled, “How can I believe that?”
“Because our relationship is based upon
equality.” He asserted.
She looked at him dubiously.
“It’s true. Morgaine was my teacher, and
our connection in many ways never progressed beyond that level. I think that
you and I have progressed beyond the mentor-student relationship. It took us a
long time, I admit, but the events of the last few years have had an effect on
both of us.”
She stared at him. In truth, she thought he
still reverted occasionally into his old role, but those lapses were rare these
days. He seemed to value her opinion on the choices in their lives, all of
which meant, damn it, that if she were to reciprocate she would have to let him
be the one to make the decision about his leaving Paris.
She swallowed, “Duncan, I really think you
should leave as soon as possible. It’s
only a matter of time before Madeline finds out that we’re seeing each other.
She’s already threatened you once, and I know that you can handle most things
they would throw at you, but these are not people that you really want to tick off.”
“I realize that,” he cupped her face in his
hands. “I know you’re worried that they’ll stumble upon Immortality and turn us
into guinea pigs, but we’re not going to let that happen. If they come after
me, I will fight back, but if they kill me, I’ll disappear like a phantom. I won’t take the chance that they’ll
discover what you are. Can you accept that?”
She closed her eyes and bit her lip, “My
head keeps telling me to send you away, but my heart wants you here in my
bed. I guess I just have to deal with
the fact that it’s not my choice to make.”
He lowered himself back down to the bed,
and brought her with him. Laying her head upon his chest, he kissed her face
gently.
She listened to his heart beating and
started to say, “Duncan, promise me…”
He cut her off, “We’re not making promises
we can’t keep. I love you, and I always
will. That’s all I know of tomorrow. Everything else we’ll deal with as it
comes.”
She closed her eyes and said a prayer. She
would respect his wishes, but it didn’t alleviate her fears.
********
Davenport flagged down a cab. He had seen all he needed. Mahleah was seeing Duncan MacLeod and now he
would have to report to Madeline. As the taxi sped away into the night, he had
two fervent hopes: this Intel would be enough to save Jennie’s life and neither
Mahleah nor MacLeod would die because of this betrayal.
Chapter Ten
Davenport hated himself for what he was
about to do. Rather surprised that Madeline was still up at this late hour, he
presented the results of the digital photographs he’d taken outside the
cottage.
She studied the images with an air of
satisfied silence, and he felt relief. He had wondered if what he had brought
in as proof would be satisfactory.
Since both Mahleah and MacLeod had proven so elusive, he had only
managed to take shots of each of them as they entered the cottage separately.
He’d been too afraid of being caught to get any closer. At least there was a
time and date stamp on each picture.
“You didn’t manage to get a shot of them
together?” she finally inquired.
“No,” he responded stiffly. “I felt it
inadvisable to attempt closer surveillance. They were continually on their
guard and it was quite difficult to go unnoticed.” Besides, he added inside his
head, I’d violated their privacy enough.
“I suppose it was,” she smiled. “Good work,
Chris. Your assistance will no longer be required in this matter.”
She clearly expected him to leave, but he
had to know, “What will happen to Jennie?”
Madeline politely raised an eyebrow. “She’s
perfectly safe for now, Chris. The only
thing that could harm her now is you, but that won’t happen, I’m sure. In fact,
I’m recommending you lead the team going out this morning.”
He stared at her, “I thought it was
Michael’s team?”
Her smile froze his bones to the marrow,
“Oh no, Chris. Michael will be on your
team. You’d better hurry and prepare. Operations expects your team to load at
4:45. Make sure you give Michael plenty of time to arrive. He’s at Nikita’s I
believe.”
Damn! Davenport thought as her left her
office. Someday may that bitch experience an accounting for all the evil
schemes she’s contrived. Whatever wag had dubbed her “La Belle Dame sans Merci”
after the Keats’ poem was wickedly accurate. He sighed. What hope did he or any
of his comrades have, much less a civilian like Jennie?
******
Walter moved into his storage area after
carefully making sure no one was around Munitions. Valerie was leaning against
shelves waiting for him.
When he reached her, she smiled and caressed
his face, “It seems like it took you forever,” she murmured.
“It was just three minutes,” he said,
stealing a kiss.
“It was too long,” she protested, and they
kissed again before Walter pulled away.
“No more,” he told her, laughing. “Come on,
not here.”
Knowing Section’s antipathy toward
interpersonal relationships, he could imagine the kind of fuss that would be
raised if they were caught.
“Why not?” Valerie pouted a little.
“Oh, it’s...” hard to think with you
stroking my face that way.
She gave him a wicked smile as if she’d
heard the conclusion of the sentence, “It’s been six hours.”
“Yeah, it’s just too dangerous, that’s
all.” He looked around nervously. “It’s bad enough I brought you back here.”
“That’s what makes you so exciting,” she
informed him, and began unzipping his jacket.
Unable to resist any more, Walter leaned in
to kiss her, but froze when he heard a familiar voice say, “Hey Walter!”
He pulled away from Valerie and attempted
to compose himself before answering, “Yeah, Birkoff?”
“Where’s my PDA?” came the impatient
response.
His mind was whirling as he cleared his
throat, “Just hang loose.”
Valerie gently wiped lipstick from his
mouth and he told Birkoff, “I’ll be right there!”
He backed away from Valerie and gestured
for her to be quiet. She smiled at him and as he started to walk away, she
pinched his rear. He jumped and pushed her hand away, then hurried to Birkoff.
He grabbed an item at random off one of the
shelves and took it with him to the gate.
“Sorry, I forgot,” he apologized to his
friend, “I was checking the inventory.”
Birkoff scowled, “You did that yesterday.”
“I had to double run the scanners,” he
responded. He pulled out a PDA and checked it.
Birkoff was practically bouncing in his haste
to be away, “Come on, I want to leave early tonight. I’m in a hurry.”
Walter laughed and said, “You got a hot
date?”
“Actually, I do.”
Walter stopped and stared at his young
friend. Well, it’s about time, he thought. You’ve been moping over Claire too
long.
“Who is it?” he asked curiously, and his
heart sank as Birkoff whispered, “It’s Valerie, the new profiler.”
“Huh?” he was shocked and confused, but
Birkoff was oblivious.
“Anyway, I gotta go, thanks.”
Walter stood stock-still in dismay over
this development. Valerie was seeing Birkoff on the side? He suddenly began to feel his age in a way
he never had before, but tried to shake it off. Walking back to her, he saw her
smile at him, but announced, “We can’t do this here.”
She saw that his mood had changed, and
touched him, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” he said airily. “I just
thought maybe we could do something…romantic…just you and me.”
She looked around, then grabbed his jacket,
and pushed him against the shelves. Leaning forward, she began to stroke her
hands across his chest. Her tone was
practically a purr, “I don’t see anyone else here.”
“Uh, no,” he stammered. “I meant, I meant…”
She kissed him again, then leaned back, and
asked, “What?”
“Well,” he explained weakly, “Maybe we
could go and have dinner, hmmm?”
She seemed surprised. He leaned in, kissed
her, and added, “Tonight.”
Valerie hesitated, rubbing her nose against
his, “Tonight?”
“Uh huh,” he agreed.
She leaned back again, “Tonight is not so
good.”
He persisted, “Well, you’re not on. I mean
what’s the problem?”
“I’m busy,” she said firmly. She saw how unhappy that answer made him,
and continued her caresses, “Look Walter, I’m never going to ask you for your
itinerary. Please, don’t ask for mine.”
She kissed him again, and then pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled and left. “Sure,” Walter said, a
little desolated.
He rested against the shelving and
ruminated over this unexpected turn of events.
It was true that he had thought of Valerie, at first, as nothing more
than a pleasant distraction, but he realized now that he wanted more. Heaven help him, he wasn’t interested in a
relationship based on nothing more than meaningless sex. He had been looking
forward to romance, but most importantly companionship. He didn’t really want a lover who rolled
over when the deed was done, and began putting on her clothes.
The truth was he wanted another Mahleah –
someone he could talk and laugh with, someone who would play chess, and discuss
old movies and sing in bed. It was disconcerting to understand that Valerie
wanted none of that. Apparently, her
idea of a good time was wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
She was young he rationalized. Perhaps he
could show her how attractive other aspects of courtship could be -- if he had
the opportunity. Anger swelled up in him to think that Birkoff was going out on
a date with her tonight. Birkoff, of
all people! Didn’t the young punk understand
how much his best friend was attracted to her? How could he make a play for
her?
A flicker of apprehension passed through
him. Many people only thought of Seymour Birkoff as a computer geek with about
as much sex appeal as an Intel Pentium Processor. Walter knew better. Birkoff was shy, it was true, but he was
sensitive and sweet. Many girls found
him appealing, if he’d only get his head out of his monitor and notice
them. So, why did he have to focus on
the woman Walter was sleeping with?
*********
In the Perch, Operations listened to
Madeline’s report with great interest.
So, Mahleah was secretly meeting with an old lover? This Intel pleased him, rather than making
him angry. Such an intense passion was
exciting to him, but also placed her in a delicate situation. She would now be
in a weak position and they would be able to exploit that. Of course, the first
step was using this against his would-be replacement.
“So, Michael and Nikita ignored the Type
One Directive?” he asked. “How unsurprising.
How is your profile proceeding?”
Madeline calmly stared out the glass at
Section, “There has been noticeable friction reported between Nikita and
Mahleah. Walter and Birkoff have just
begun dating the same woman. When this combines with his upcoming loss of
status, Michael will be facing some serious setbacks. He will begin to doubt himself and his support system is
crumbling.”
“Even though Nikita doesn’t like Mahleah
right now, they’ll both be offering moral support to him,” Operations pointed
out.
“Nikita will not like the pains she sees
Michael undergoing,” Madeline responded.
“Eventually, she’ll understand what she needs to do to make it
stop. As for Mahleah, I think it’s
clear that we have the key to her cooperation in the palm of our hands.”
He chuckled and glanced down at the pda
with its image of Duncan MacLeod, “Indeed we do,” he agreed pleasantly.
Chapter Eleven
Michael absently caressed Nikita’s
shoulders. The water in their bubble bath was beginning to cool off, and they
would have to get out of the tub soon, but right now, he just wanted to lie
there with her pressed against him. The last few days had been a considerable
test of his self-control.
First, they had stripped him of his Level
Five status and replaced him with Chris Davenport. Then, they’d taken away his office, as if those things really
mattered to him. Now, however, they were relegating him to the sidelines --
putting him in a backup position where he hadn’t been able to help protect the
members of his team. Nikita had just told him that these things were bothering
him, and she was right, but not in the way she meant.
Authority meant little to him, despite the
popular perception of his character. As he’d told Nikita, he wanted to do
everything he did well. That mattered to him, but not as much as the feeling of
powerlessness that his latest assignment had given him. He did hate being out
of control when it meant that lives were lost and there had been no way for him
to help. Aside from Nikita, the only thing that had kept sane in Section was
the feeling that he was aiding people: the innocents Nikita always wanted to
protect, but his friends and comrades as well. He tried to create profiles that
would allow the maximum number possible to return from each mission unless
given orders to the contrary. He used the skill he had in being able to think
on his feet to avoid disaster whenever possible. Now, Operations and Madeline had made them impossible for him.
He knew he should talk to Nikita about it.
She would understand his frustration, but he feared that it would ultimately
take her from him. He refused to let Section take her away from him, like it
had with everything else he cared about.
This reluctance to share his feelings with
her created an acute sense of loneliness within him. Lately, all of his friends
had been distant and preoccupied. Birkoff was rarely around, and seemed to
fluctuate between some inner happiness and misery. Walter didn’t seem to have
enough energy for a smile these days, and was more likely to snap someone’s
head off than joke. Mahleah was in the
middle of one of her club only stretches when she spent little time in
Section. If he caught a glimpse of her,
she too, looked pensive and downcast – he suspected that she was worried about
MacLeod. He had vowed to make sure that
nothing happened to the man for her sake, but now he was powerless to help her
either. He could feel in his bones that
something would have to give and soon.
He prayed that it wouldn’t be him.
******
Seymour Birkoff felt elated and
miserable. He never would have dreamed
that someone as beautiful and sensuous as Valerie would choose to go out with
him, but it hurt to know that she was also seeing Walter on the side. Walter!
The very idea that he was in competition with his best friend for this woman
was rapidly eating away his stomach lining.
He hadn’t dated since Claire left so
suddenly. Every woman he met had simply
not compared to her gentle loveliness.
Although she hadn’t contacted him, he knew in his heart that if she came
back to Paris, it would kill him not to see her. What did that say that Valerie
meant to him, then: exciting companionship and a passionate night under the
sheets?
She was definitely an energetic lover, he
thought with a grin. She was actually a little more like his old girlfriend,
Gail, in that department. Though, the one night he’d been able to spend with
Claire had been infinitely more special.
Their lovemaking had been heartfelt and mutually satisfying. She was a very giving partner, sensitive to
his needs, and he’d relished the chance to respond in kind.
He sighed, no he wasn’t over Claire yet it
seemed. It was so gratifying to be with
Valerie, though, wonderful to be pursued.
Where did that leave Walter?
Like him, Walter had been missing the
companionship of his last girlfriend. Valerie
was the first woman that Birkoff knew of Walter dating since the Madeline
sanctioned breakup of his romance with Mahleah. Perhaps he was just on the
rebound. If that were the extent of his emotional involvement, Birkoff wouldn’t
feel so guilty about the whole triangle.
He was still rather angry with the older
man for his callous declarations that Valerie would dump Birkoff for him. The
words, “You’re not even there for the dumping,” still rang in his ears. That had been a cruel thing to say, and most
unlike his friend.
He hardened his resolve. If a competition
was what Walter wanted, that’s what he would get and may the best man win. He was no slouch in the romance department –
after all, hadn’t Walter taught him everything he knew?
*******
Mahleah sat at a table in “The Copperhead”
and stared down at her bottle of water.
Tony had tried to give her something stronger to “cheer” her up, but
she’d refused and stuck to spring water. The bartender sat across from her now
along with his fellow watcher, Joe, whom she addressed now.
“Joe, you need to get out of here,” she
told him. “I can’t take any chances
that they might have discovered the link between us.”
“Sorry, Mahleah,” he replied, firmly but
pleasantly. “I have things to take care of in Paris, remember? I own a club that needs looking after, and
besides I can’t leave until MacLeod does. You know that.”
“Let Adam or Amanda manage the club,” she
protested. “Take Mac with you. I’d
pay.”
Tony chuckled, “Are you bored already?
Surely there are other ways of breaking up with him.”
She groaned, “I don’t want to break up, I
just want him to stay alive.”
“Have you talked to him about this?” Joe
asked.
She nodded, “He won’t go – keeps insisting
that whatever happens, the two of us can handle it together.”
Joe smiled, “I recall the days when you got
upset with him because he thought he
had to handle all the tough situations.
Hey, at least you’ve broken him of that bad habit.”
She lay her head down on her hands, “Who
says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?
The trouble is he makes it sound so reasonable that I find myself
agreeing, then after he’s gone all the old fears come back.”
“It’s called love,” Joe told her
gently. “It’s not something that’s
strictly a province of Immortals you know.
We mortals have to deal with it too.
Every time someone you love walks out the door, you’re faced with the
knowledge that it could be the last time. The price you pay for letting someone
into your heart: you care what happens to him. The thought of pain of any kind
being inflicted on him hurts you twice as much. You can’t let it control you.”
She stared at him, “How’d you get to be so
wise in so short a time?”
He grinned, “A steady diet of the blues and
clean living.”
Tony cleared his throat, “Speaking of
music, are you planning on gracing us with your voice anytime tonight?”
Sighing, she rose, “Just for you, Tony.”
She went to the band who’d been looking
rather bored, and gave them a song.
They nodded, and turning to the mike, she began a favorite of her boss,
“Dream On” by Aerosmith.
Every
time when I look in the mirror
All
these lines on my face getting clearer
The
past is gone
It
went by, like dusk to dawn
Isn’t
that the way
Everybody’s
got the dues in life to pay.
Tony, never taking his eyes off the stage,
casually asked Joe, “Have you ever wanted to live forever?”
“No,” Joe shook his head.
“Never?”
He gave the question more thought. There
were moments when possessing Immortality would have been useful. Being Duncan MacLeod’s
watcher had brought more than its share of danger. Yet, the hidden costs of the
gift nagged at him.
I
know nobody knows
Where
it comes and where it goes
You
got to lose to know how to win
“No,” he answered again. “I can’t stand the
idea of losing everyone I’ve ever loved. I think it would be the most
unbearable and lonely life there is.”
Half
my life’s in books’ written pages
You
know it’s true
All
these things come back to you.
Sing
with me, sing for the years
Sing
for the laughter and sing for the tears
Sing
with me if it’s just for today
Maybe
tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away.
“That’s why you’ve pushed so hard for our
favorite couple to stay together isn’t it?” Tony guessed.
Joe smiled, “I guess it is. I hate the idea of either of them being
alone – besides have you ever met two people so perfect for each other?”
Tony shook his head laughing.
Dream
on, dream on, dream on, dream yourself a dream come true.
Dream
on, dream on, dream on, and dream until your dream comes true.
A bit more soberly, the bartender
continued, “I know that not having children would kill me inside. The thought
that either Teresa or Shawn didn’t exist is excruciating.”
“Have you heard from him lately?” Joe
asked.
Tony shook his head. “No. I think he’s
disowned dear old dad. Maybe as he gets
older, he’ll realize why I was able to forgive Jacob.”
There was a moment of sadness, which Joe
tried to alleviate with a joke, “You know, I’ve always thought I’d hate looking
in the mirror and never changing. How do Immortals stand it? I think watching a
person grow older is fascinating. It’s
as if you can read a whole life story right there on a face.”
Tony nodded, “It’s a little spooky, isn’t
it: all that living and not a trace of
it anywhere but in their eyes.”
Sing with me, sing for the years
Sing
for the laughter and sing for the tears.
Sing
with me, if it’s just for today.
Maybe
tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away….
*****
Several blocks away, Chris Davenport was
walking down the street brooding over his part in recent Section events, when
he heard a noise. Looking down an
alley, he spotted a small figure and moved toward it. It tried to dart past him, but he managed to snag an arm.
He discovered he was clutching a kid: a
small boy, with tousled light brown hair sun-streaked with golden highlights,
wide eyes full of fear, and a dirty face.
“Hey, I won’t hurt you,” he said
soothingly. “My name’s Chris. Who are
you?”
The boy looked at him for a long moment
before answering, “I’m Kenny.”
Chapter Twelve
In the streetlights, Kenny looked to be
around ten years old, but in the wide blue eyes, Davenport recognized the
street-smart maturity of someone that’d been around and seen everything. He had
a flash of memory of himself at that age, and remembered that finding Jennie
had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He couldn’t just leave
this child out on the streets.
What could he do though? The last thing he needed right now was
someone else to worry about. Madeline had him stretched over a chopping block
and just wanted an excuse to cut him to pieces. He would have to take the boy
somewhere he would be cared for, but he didn’t know of any place. He was usually looking to find someone, not
nurture him. He looked around the neighborhood. Where could he go at this late hour to find help for this
innocent kid?
Innocent kid – the words rang in his head,
and coupled with the street signs hanging nearby allowed him to make a
decision. He smiled, knowing exactly
where to take the boy.
“Come on Kenny,” he said softly. “Let’s go
find you some hot food and a place to sleep.”
*******
Kenny walked beside the strange man,
wondering where they were going. He sensed no danger or hostility from Chris.
The man had that glow in his eyes that most people got when they thought they
were helping a young, defenseless child. God, he was so sick of it.
He wondered what Chris would think if he
knew that far from being a sweet, young boy he was actually over eight hundred
years old stuck in the body of a child that never aged. All of these do-gooders
with their good intentions…they gave him milk and cookies and bedtime stories.
It was enough to make him want to hurl. Actually, the women were the
worst.
Men treated him like a “young man” usually,
but women…they wanted to bathe him, and feed him, and tuck him in like a tiny
tot. He’d spent eight hundred years trying to accept the fact that he would
always be perceived as someone to be protected -- someone who needed looking
after. It still rankled. His mind, his
intelligence, was that of a grown man – more so than any puny mortal was
actually. He’d lived longer than they
could conceive and surpassed the expectations of all his kind. After all, child Immortals were supposed to
be easy prey, yet he’d survived.
Amanda had taught him what he needed to
know. Use your innocent face and
vulnerability, she’d said. Don’t let
them hurt you. He’d been an excellent student,
better even than she’d realized. She’d been taken from him by some Norman
soldiers and he’d ran away friendless and alone with only his wits for
company. A few years ago, he’d found
her again, keeping company with Duncan MacLeod of all people!
She’d hugged him, and given him milk. She
made him a bed on the couch, while she slept with MacLeod. Even she didn’t understand that he wasn’t a
child any more. That misapprehension
cleared up though, when he’d handcuffed her to a pipe and ran down to chop off
her lover’s head after giving her a kiss.
Unfortunately, her lock-picking skills were as acute as ever and she’d
challenged him. She’d actually told him that if he killed MacLeod she would
kill him. In the end, that bitch had betrayed him the way they all did
eventually. One day they would pay -- especially Duncan MacLeod. Amanda had
chosen him: the younger man for God’s sake.
He was twice the Highlander’s age.
He and Chris entered a building where Kenny
assumed the man kept an apartment. His
new “protector” certainly didn’t talk much, but that could be considered a
benefit. He was surprised when instead of unlocking a door Chris knocked. Who
were they going to see?
When the door opened, a blonde woman stared
at them curiously. She was tall, with
incredibly long legs and a model’s figure.
Kenny licked his lips -- great, another beautiful woman to coax him into
watching Saturday morning cartoons, or whatever the hell they had here in
France.
Chris appeared to be rather nervous. Kenny
wondered why. Wasn’t this his
girlfriend?
“Nikita, I need to ask you a favor,” he
said.
She raised an eyebrow, and looked at them
both patiently.
“I found Kenny here roaming the streets and
he obviously needs food and someplace to sleep. I couldn’t take him with me and
since your apartment was close, I brought him.
Could you keep him for a few days until I can find a better place for
him?”
She examined Kenny closely, and his blood
starting boiling. Handed off like an
unwanted sack of potatoes again, huh? “I thought I was staying with you?” he
demanded. That would have worked out better with his plans, but the only thing
he wanted from Blondie here, she’d never give.
Chris looked down at him, “Trust me Ken,
you’d be getting the better end of the deal here. She’s a much better cook.”
Nikita bit her lip, “I don’t know
Chris. Things are kind of crazy for me
right now, you know?”
Chris looked into her bright blue eyes, “I
know that, and I’m sorry, but he could use your help. Please.”
She sighed and beckoned them inside.
“I’d better not,” Chris said. “I have some
plans to look over tonight.”
She nodded, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Chris left and Kenny found himself alone
with Nikita. She closed the front door and looked at him.
“Would you like something to eat?” she
asked. Staring at him thoughtfully, she
suggested, “I’ve got some steaks.”
He felt surprise. Usually this kind of
woman tried to fill him full of healthy vegetables, or “kiddy” foods like
French fries and pizza.
“Sure,” he agreed, “Sounds good. Got any
beer to go with that?” They might as well get the milk issue out of the way.
She cocked her head to the side. Blue eyes
met blue eyes squarely on, and she nodded, “Yeah, I do.”
Hmmm, he thought. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Chapter Thirteen
As Mahleah walked by Munitions, Walter
whistled. She smiled and walked over to him.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked.
“Just the sight of you in those jeans,” he
eyed her appreciatively. “You’re looking mighty fine there, Mahleah darlin’.
You know a man always likes to keep his hands full.”
“Well, I don’t have any problems in that
area,” she said a bit ruefully. “I’m afraid there’s plenty to grab here.”
He scowled at her, “What’s wrong with
that?”
“Nothing, I suppose.”
“You’re damn right nothing,” he told her
firmly. “You’ve got a gorgeous figure and I ought to know. So, you’re not
scrawny like a supermodel or a 48 DD like some of the pin-up girls. You’re a
well-endowed natural woman.”
“Oh yeah,” she smacked her rear,
“Well-endowed, indeed.”
“Hey, those are childbearing hips,” he
winked at her. He walked around to the other side of the workbench and missed
her reply.
“They’re wasted on me then.”
“Don’t tell me you’re insecure about your
looks,” he continued. “You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
“Whatever,” she replied.
He stared at her, “Hasn’t anyone ever told
you that before?”
She smiled, “Yeah they have, Walter, and I
appreciate you’re saying it, but I’ve discovered you can generally divide the
men who tell you that into two categories: the ones that love you and the ones
that want to sleep with you. Now if you like someone they automatically become
more attractive to you so that means little, and a man who’s dying to know the
color of your panties will say anything.”
“How did you ever get to be so cynical?” he
shook his head.
She patted him on the shoulder, “Don’t
worry Walter honey, I don’t have an inferiority complex. It’s just that at the
end of the day, I have more important things to worry about.”
“Yeah, why are you here? I notice you got
dressed in such a hurry you didn’t braid your hair,” he pointed to her
ponytail.
“I got called in,” she said, “I’m not sure
what’s going on.”
He frowned, “I hate to say it, but it’s
probably nothing good. Things have gone from bad to worse lately…look at
Michael.”
“Yeah, what the hell is going on?” she
asked heatedly. “I heard he lost his class five status.”
Walter nodded. “It’s true. They’re trying
to break him because he won’t give up Nikita.”
She said something unpleasant under her
breath that he pretended not to hear.
At that moment Birkoff walked up to her,
“Mahleah, Operations wants to see you in the perch right away.”
She immediately noticed that the temperature
seemed to drop ten degrees when the two men looked at each other. She started
to say something but Birkoff interrupted her by adding, “He seemed rather
impatient.”
She nodded, making a mental note to find
out what was going on later. On her way to the perch, she passed a tall,
slender woman who gave her a peculiar look. Mahleah racked her brain until she
came up with a name: Valerie that was it, the new profiler. Now, what the hell
was her problem? She was definitely going to check that out.
As she entered Operations’ office, he
smiled and motioned her to approach him. While she walked over, he darkened the
windows of the perch – a move that made her feel very uneasy.
“Mahleah, it seems we have some things to
discuss,” he began.
“Such as,” she asked politely.
“Such as your future position here in
Section. You possess great potential – more than I’ve seen in a long time.”
“Thank you.” How exactly was she expected
to respond to that? Oh, thank you sir,
I certainly give it my all…yeah right. The man obviously wanted something.
“Unfortunately even the best operatives are
not perfect,” he proceeded. “We all have our frailties, our little human
weaknesses.”
She nodded.
“In a few days’ time, you’ll have to
confront yours I’m afraid.” He told her placidly.
“What do you mean?” she was confused.
“A couple of days from now expect to have a
meeting with both myself and Madeline. The subject of this discussion will be
your personal involvement with a man named Duncan MacLeod. It seems that he’s an
old lover from your life before Section and you’ve resumed your romantic
liaison with him despite the strict codes we have about avoiding contact with
prior acquaintances.”
She swallowed heavily. They knew then. Why was he telling her about this in advance,
though?
Reading her mind, he smoothly said, “I’m
telling you this now because there’s a chance that you wouldn’t have to give
him up.”
Her mouth nearly dropped open. Who do I
have to kill, she nearly asked, but decided that wasn’t a very safe question
under the circumstances.
“In fact, I would be willing to overlook
the association,” he informed her.
“What’s the price tag on this generous
offer?” she asked hoarsely.
“Ah yes, the price,” he extended a finger
and stroked the side of her face. “I’m afraid Mr. MacLeod would have to share
your favors.”
Her heart froze for a moment. Was he
serious? If she slept with him, he’d
not only leave Duncan alone, but allow them to continue seeing each other? Boy
was she ever right earlier: a man on the make would promise anything. She took
a step backwards, away from his touch.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” she said as
calmly as she could.
“Oh, but I’m not just offering you your
lover’s life,” he persisted. “You’ll have much more power. You could ensure the safety of all those
nearest and dear to you.”
The bastard was saying that if she became
his mistress she could make sure that Michael and Nikita were left alone and
that Walter and Birkoff would be protected. As he said, it was a sweet deal, but
dear God; she couldn’t have sex with that man. To paraphrase a line from a
favorite movie, she’d rather bang a boa constrictor. At least it wouldn’t be
slimy.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated firmly, hiding
her revulsion. “I’ve never slept my way into any position and I don’t intend to
start now.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking into her
eyes. “Be careful not to reject this offer out of hand. Think about it for a
while.”
She turned and began walking off when his
voice made her pause one last time, “Madeline plans to offer you a deal of her
own. I flatter myself that you’ll like her terms even less than mine. Remember
that when we meet again. If you wish to accept my bargain, tell us you’ve had a
better offer and I’ll handle it from there.”
She left, her fists clenching in fury. She
hurried out of Section without saying goodbye to any of her friends.
In college, she’d had a friend who’d
declared that everyone had their price. When asked what hers was, she’d laughed
it off by saying, “More than you can afford.” Now that theory was being put to
the test. She’d rejected him outright, but now she would have to think about
his proposition more seriously.
Could she truly afford to hold out when the
lives of all she held dear were on the line?
What was meaningless sex with Operations compared to ensuring that
Duncan and his secrets were safe and Michael and Nikita would no longer be
punished for having the audacity to love each other? Logically, she should take him up on this deal as it offered her
everything she wanted in Section – if he would keep his end of the deal. Now,
there was the problem: could she trust Operations?
Based on his record she would have to say
no, she couldn’t. The man would say
whatever was expedient at the time. He had no qualms over dishonesty or
betrayal. What happened once he grew tired of her? She’d have made the sacrifice for nothing.
Then, of course, there was the
million-dollar question: could she go through with it? She sat in a taxi, and closing her eyes
tried to picture every detail. She found herself on the verge of throwing
up. The very idea of him kissing her
made her nauseous. There was no way in hell she could actually screw him. She
wasn’t that good an actress.
In the darker parts of her past she had, it
was true, been known to cock-tease men and then refuse to put out. In a violently aggressive state of mind
then, she had hated everyone but no one as much as herself. Now, thank God, those days were behind her.
When it came to actual intercourse, in
fact, she’d never been with a man she didn’t like, respect, and usually love.
She shook her head – there was no way she could make good on that deal if she
tried. So, what the hell was she going to do now?
*******
When MacLeod stepped into the cottage, he’d
known something was off by the sound. Instead of the passionate, seductive
sounds that normally got played during their time together, Mahleah had cranked
up P.J. Harvey. The hard-edged, aggressive rock was pulsing through the small
building. As he entered, he heard the
last moments of “Rub Til It Bleeds,” and shuddered. That song always gave him
the creeps.
Mahleah had always loved P.J. Harvey, but
she usually reserved songs like the one now playing, “Fifty Foot Queenie,” to
days when she was feeling particularly aggressive, even violent.
Hey
I’m one big queen
No
one can stop me
Red
light red green
Sat
back and watching
I’m
your new one
Second
to no one
No
sweat I’m clean
Nothing
can touch me.
He could see her now dressed in a sports
bra and hakama, prowling through the room, Tora in hand – performing katas like
a whirling dervish.
Tell
you my name
FU
and CK
50
foot Queenie
Force
ten hurricane
Biggest
woman
I
could have ten sons
Ten
gods ten queens
Ten
foot and rising
He watched in fascination as she alternated
dance steps with wicked strikes, slashes, and thrusts. The traditional dance
moves would be on the beat of the music, but the martial arts would come
between the beats…she knew to make her more deadly rhythm unpredictable.
Hey
I’m the king of the world
I’m twenty inches long
So the verses at the end went, counting off
in tens to eventually hit fifty inches.
Normally Mahleah considered the song a hilarious parody of male vanity
but this evening it appeared to be tapping into something darker. Then the music shifted into the driving
“Me-Jane.”
Oh
damn your chest beating, just you stop your screaming
It’s
splitting through my head and swinging from the ceiling
I’ve
called you by your first name, good Lord it’s Me-Jane!
As he watched, she began putting every drop
of energy she possessed into the frantic drumbeat. She was adding gymnastics now: one-handed cartwheels that slashed
violently at legs or abdomen, somersaults that removed heads, and a split that
castrated her imaginary opponent.
He swallowed. Something had upset her
profoundly today, but until she calmed down, he’d never find out what was going
on. Deciding to alter the mood by switching music, he went to the stereo and
programmed the CD changer for her favorite U2 album.
As the beginning strains of “Love is
Blindness” filled the room, he embraced her from behind. He could feel her
overworked muscles quivering and leading her to the side of the room, he sat
down with his back against the wall and held her. He could feel her trying to
calm her breathing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” she closed her eyes.
Love
is blindness
I
don’t want to see
Won’t
you wrap the night
Take
my heart
Love
is blindness
She sighed, and her head fell back against
his shoulder. She shifted her legs until his were intertwined.
In a parked car
You
see your love
Made
complete
Thread
is ripping
The
knot is slipping
Love
is blindness
He kissed the side of her face. Her
heartbeat was slowing and her breathing was back to normal.
“I’m sorry, Mac,” she said finally.
“For what?” he asked gently.
Love
is clockworks
And
cold steel
Squeeze
the handle
Blow
out the candle
Love
is blindness
“I’ve been offered everything I wanted on a
silver platter, but I just can’t pay the price for it.”
“If the price is your self-respect, then
it’s not everything you ever wanted, is it?” he asked. “If it’s a question of
honor, you have to do what feels right in your heart.”
Love
is blindness.
I
don’t want to see.
Won’t
you wrap the night
Around
me?
Oh
my love
Blindness
“Honor?” she laughed a little. “Yeah, I
guess it was. I actually considered it. I don’t know how honorable that was.”
A
little death
Without
mourning
And
no warning
Baby…a
dangerous idea
That
almost makes sense
He didn’t know what the situation was, but
he could guess, “If one of the rewards was my safety, I appreciate the thought,
but don’t betray your principles for it.”
The Edge’s guitar work cut through the
hypnotic melody and she turned to face him.
“What if it wasn’t just your safety at
stake?”
“Knowing you, I’d say you’re not
considering yourself, which leaves your friends. Would this deal ultimately
change their lives for the better?”
Love
is drowning
In
a deep well
And
no one to tell
Take
the money
Honey
Blindness
“They would be able to see each other
without fear of reprisals,” she told him.
He raised his eyebrows, “Well that would be
nice I’m sure, but shouldn’t they be entitled to that right anyway? If such a
proposition didn’t improve the fundamental way they are treated, is it such an
improvement?”
“No,” she said softly.
“Well then, wouldn’t a better plan be what
you’ve wanted all along: a shift in the structure of the organization that
required all operatives to be treated as human beings?”
She stared at him for a long moment.
Love
is blindness
I
don’t want to see
Won’t
you wrap the night
Around
me
Oh
my love
Blindness
She wrapped her legs around his waist and
pulled him forward to meet her lips.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I never doubted it, cariad,” he replied
tenderly.
Chapter Fourteen
Kenny was enjoying his stay with Nikita so
far. She, at least, seemed to realize
that he was older than he seemed and treated him more like a teenager than a
ten-year-old. It was his guess that
she’d spent some time on the streets herself. She had that air about her when
she looked at him sometimes. Of course,
he’d had to tell her a lame story about his parents dying in a plane crash.
Supposedly, an aunt had taken him in, only to discover that her husband hated
him. He’d run away and ended up living on the streets. Nikita eyed him a little skeptically but
didn’t challenge the tale.
He wondered how long he’d get to stay here
before Chris came back to take him to some government agency or other.
Hopefully it would be a few days – he could get used to this. He wasn’t quite
sure what Nikita did for a living, though.
She’d claimed to be in between jobs now, but that wasn’t likely…she
lived too well. She wasn’t extravagant,
but she was hardly pinching pennies either.
They were settling down to a hot lunch when
he heard a knock on the door. He expected it to be Chris with news of some
feel-good agency willing to take him off their hands. It wasn’t the bald man,
though; it was another male. Kenny
sized up the newcomer and immediately decided he was trouble.
Tall, with piercing green eyes that
instantly fastened upon Nikita’s unexpected guest, the stranger moved with a
dangerous grace that sent off warning bells in Kenny’s brain. This guy reminded
him of MacLeod – just the kind of looks that women go nuts over. To his
disgust, Nikita appeared happy to see the handsome guy. She called him Michael.
He and Michael stared at each other for a
long time, while Nikita anxiously shifted her weight from foot to foot. After
saying a brief hello, Michael took Nikita to the side.
Kenny listened intently but could only make
out Nikita’s voice, which rose in some agitation saying, “But he’s only a boy!”
Oh, damn, here it came. As soon as the
boyfriend showed up, he automatically dropped back to being a kid again in her
mind. He stared at Mr. Tall and Good Looking wondering if the man had any idea
just how lucky he really was.
Apparently, the discussion was over.
Michael kissed Nikita on the cheek, nodded in his direction, and left. Good, he
thought, and don’t come back now, you hear?
*******
Michael left Nikita’s apartment apprehensive
for no reason that he could pin down.
There was something about the child – something in the eyes maybe – that
sent chills down his spine. He would go to Section and talk to Davenport about
where the boy was found and what should be done about him.
Kenny reminded him of someone he’d met
before, but he couldn’t place who it was.
He just hoped the whole matter could be taken care of before they on for
the mission being planned for this afternoon.
******
Mahleah saw Davenport and flagged him down
in the hallway. She didn’t like what she was hearing about his part in
Michael’s systematic degradation at the hands of Madeline. Although she didn’t know him well, she’d
always respected him and thought of him as a member of Walter’s 5% club, so it
bothered her to see him so deeply involved in Section’s schemes.
“Mahleah,” he said.
“Chris, what in the world is going on with
you lately?” she didn’t waste any time beating around the bush. “Since when have you become Madeline’s pet
lap dog?”
She saw him wince before responding, “I do
what I have to, Mahleah, just like everybody else. Michael’s had to handle his share of difficult assignments before
– I think he understands it’s nothing personal with me.”
She frowned, “I’m sure he does, but how can
you justify it to yourself? Michael’s a good man and a good operative. What exactly is his crime here – the fact
that he fell in love? Or, are the powers that be just scared that he’ll take
their jobs?”
He swallowed, “I don’t know, but it’s out
of my hands. I don’t like doing this any more than you, but I have no choice.”
“But –“ she started to protest.
He raised a hand, “I’ll do everything I can
to help Michael out because I think this whole thing sucks. Ultimately though,
I have to follow orders.”
She realized that she would have to be
satisfied with this. They were standing in the hallway when Gail walked by.
“Oh, Mahleah, I’m glad I ran into you,” she
said warmly. “Madeline and Operations
want to see you in Madeline’s office right away.”
Mahleah gave a start. He’d told her she’d
have a couple of days to think things over.
Surprise, surprise, the man was a liar. This didn’t bode well.
Chapter Fifteen
Walking into Madeline’s office, Mahleah saw
the brunette sitting behind her desk and Operations standing beside her. She
was mentally braced for confrontation and anticipated an ugly battle. Both of
her superiors looked rather pleasantly at her, and she tensed even more.
Madeline gave off her usual serene glow, and Operations appeared confidently
smug.
Madeline waved her to a seat, “Please sit,
Mahleah.”
She sat and with an effort forced her
muscles to relax although her brain was working frantically and her stomach was
in upheaval.
“I’m afraid we’ve had some disturbing
news,” Madeline began smoothly. “It has come to our attention that you have
resumed a relationship with a man from your past, Mr. Duncan MacLeod. This is strictly prohibited for the safety
of Section as well as his own, and your actions have put both in jeopardy.
Standard operating procedure demands that both of you be canceled.”
Yeah, yeah, we all know the crime, Mahleah
thought, let’s skip to the plea bargain.
I know you want something Madeline so what is it, and will I like it any
better than Operations’ proposal? She remained silent, forcing Madeline to
continue.
“While we are prepared, if necessary, to
carry out this plan we both see it as a waste of Section resources. It is rare for us to encounter an operative
of your caliber, and we are reluctant to eliminate you gratuitously.”
Mahleah sat quietly, making every effort to
appear as if she felt no apprehension at all about her fate.
Madeline glanced at Operations who took up
the sales pitch. “We have another personnel problem that we hope you can help
us with – Michael and Nikita.”
She blinked, “How?”
He smiled, “They have blatantly violated
the Type One Directive that mandated the termination of their personal
relationship. Now we have little interest in disposing of them because again,
it would be inefficient. They are one
of our finest teams, but they must learn to obey Section protocol.”
You two-faced hypocrite, she thought with
disgust. You’re perfectly willing to
break up a couple while harassing me into sleeping with you.
Madeline picked up the thread of
conversation, “If you were willing to assist us in our efforts to maintain the
directive, we would ignore the connection with Mr. MacLeod.”
Mahleah cocked her head to the side in an
attempt to fully understand what she was being asked to do. “How am I supposed
to accomplish this?”
Operations smiled, “Any way you can.”
She looked at both of them warily before
Madeline made the situation clearer.
“You are close to both Michael and Nikita.
You can use that friendship to point out the deficits such an entanglement
creates. Nikita’s your neighbor -- drop by for chats. You and Michael seem exceptionally close. You could persuade him
that other avenues exist.”
The words buzzed around Mahleah’s head,
until she felt dizzy. She’d been warned by Operations of this price. No wonder
he’d said she wouldn’t like it any better than his terms. She was being asked
to betray her best friends in every way possible so she could continue to see
Duncan. She felt the blood rushing to
her head, and knew she was becoming incredibly angry again.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t do that,” she stated
as calmly as she could.
Madeline frowned, “Do not take this
situation lightly. If you refuse to
assist us in this matter, we will be forced to give the order for your cancellation.”
Operations was looking at her
expectantly. He thinks that I’d rather
choose him than betray my friends, she realized. Oh God, I have to get out of here, before I do something we’ll
all regret later.
As she rose from her seat, she told them,
“I do not think this is possible for me, and I do not believe that Duncan would
accept such a bargain even if it was for his life.”
Operations beamed at her, “Give the
situation some thought. You have twenty
four hours to decide.”
She left, feeling as if she could
faint. What options were left for her
to take? As she staggered down the hallway, she saw Michael talking to
Davenport. As she drew nearer they
glanced up and immediately came toward her.
Michael took her arm, “Are you okay?”
She wet her lips, “Sure, I just need to get
out of here.”
“Are you headed home?”
That would be as good a place to think as
any. At least there, she didn’t have to deal with the distracting influence of
Mac. “Yes,” she told him.
“I’ll drive you,” he said firmly. She didn’t protest.
Once on the road, with the window rolled
down and the wind on her face, she began to recover. Michael looked at her
questioningly, but she could tell he would respect her wishes if she chose not
to discuss matters. She felt a sense of obligation to explain, though. After all, this directly concerned him.
“I’m starting to feel better now,” she told
him.
“Good,” he simply replied.
She took a deep breath, “Sorry if I gave
you a start, but I just came from a meeting with Madeline and Operations – they
know about Duncan.”
He looked at her sharply.
She nodded, “Yet it seems they’d rather not
cancel me. They have other plans which require my assistance.”
“What plans?” he inquired.
“Well, it depends on whom I’m talking to,”
she laughed. “I’ve been offered two
separate deals. One is the official
negotiation, I suppose, coming from both of them. I was told that Duncan and I would not only get to live but also
continue to see each other if I provided the aid they required.”
“To do what?”
“To break up you and Nikita.” She saw his
hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“And how are you supposed to do it?”
“I think the exact quote was ‘any way you
can.’ It was ever so subtly implied that I could use my influence as a friend
to point out to both you and Nikita why being a couple is so detrimental to
Section and yourselves.”
“And when that didn’t work?”
She stared at him, “I was to seduce you.”
He turned to her, and then quickly looked
back at the road. “They told you to seduce me?”
She shook her head, “Not directly, but
that’s what they meant. I’m not sure whether I was being insulted or strangely
complimented. Madeline seemed convinced of my success.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I refused, of course, but they didn’t want
to leave it at that. I’m supposed to
meet with them again tomorrow for my final answer.”
“You said you had two deals: what was the
other?”
She laughed bitterly, “That one came
straight from the head man himself. It started the same, but he sweetened the
deal by offering me the power to protect my friends. In other words, you and
Nikita would be left alone and Walter and Birkoff would be safe.”
He let out a soft whistle, “What did he
want in return?”
“Me,” she said bluntly.
“What?”
“He wants me to be his mistress, and this
is his way of coaxing me into the job.”
He slammed on the brakes, and she could
hear a car honking behind them. It was a good thing that they were already at
her building. All he had to do was park, if he’d ever stop staring at her.
“I know it seems incredible that the man
would want me so badly, but that’s the deal,” she said mildly.
He regained his senses and swung the car
into a parking space.
“I thought I should tell you,” she added,
“since it’s not only my future up for grabs here.”
He grabbed her wrist, “Mahleah, you can’t
agree to that. Nikita and I will do fine on our own. We don’t need you to
bargain for our safety with your body.”
She smiled and caressed his cheek, “Thank
you for the concern, but it’s really my decision to make.”
At his appalled expression, she said,
“Don’t worry, Musashi, there’s no way I could do it – any of it.” She got out
of the car, and he followed.
As they walked into the building together,
he told her, “Take Madeline’s deal.”
She stared at him, “I can’t.”
“Do it,” he insisted. “It’s much better
than the alternative.”
They got in the elevator. She was touched
by his words, but they didn’t make her decisions any easier.
“Michael, you want me to try to seduce
you?”
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have to
come to that. We could just make it appear that you did.”
She laughed, “And make it appear that
Nikita hated my guts?”
The elevator door opened, and they began
walking down the hall.
“She would know the truth,” he persisted.
“We could make it seem very realistic…. What is it?” he asked, seeing her
freeze in her tracks.
She had stopped near Nikita’s door.
“Has Nick made some new friends I don’t
know about?” she asked intently.
“No,” he answered, beginning to worry. He
hadn’t seen that look on her face since…Claire. “Not exactly, she’s taken in a
runaway kid.”
Mahleah had already begun to pound on the
door, “Ni-ki-ta,” she called. “Hey, let me in, I need to talk to you.”
To Michael she said, “Kid? What do you mean kid? How old?”
“Nikita, hey hurry up and open the door,
would you?”
When the door finally swung open and a
bewildered Nikita allowed them both to step in, Mahleah hurried inside looking
for the source of the buzz, and felt bewildered when she spotted the kid
staring at her with a combination of terror and hatred.
“Hello,” she said politely. “I don’t think
we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Mahleah Brennan.”
“Kenny,” he said sullenly.
“Well, Kenny,” she asked. “What are you
doing here?”
“Being set up, apparently,” he spat back.
“I should have known this was all a trap.”
“There are no traps here,” she said
sweetly. Kenny, the name was nagging her subconscious. She’d heard of him
before, but where and when?
“I know you,” he accused. “I’ve seen your
picture. You’re a friend of MacLeod’s!”
She tensed, “I know several actually. Which
one do you mean?”
“The Highlander.”
“Both Connor and Duncan are referred to by
that nickname. Which one have you seen me with?”
“Duncan,” he said the name with loathing.
“What’s going on?” Nikita demanded.
“It seems we have a mutual friend,” Mahleah
answered.
“MacLeod’s no friend of mine,” he
exclaimed. “He tried to kill me and you will too.”
Nikita frowned and started backing Mahleah
to the door. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said firmly. “But I think
until I can get him calmed down, you’ll need to leave.”
“Nikita, you shouldn’t force Mahleah to
go,” Michael said to her.
“He hates me too,” Kenny accused. “He’s
probably in on it with her.”
“Kenny, Michael wouldn’t hurt you,” Nikita
soothed. She looked at her lover. “Give me some time to get this straightened
out, okay?”
Mahleah didn’t like the idea of leaving her
alone with this unknown Immortal child, and she could tell Michael felt the
same. Still, she didn’t know what his story was. Perhaps there was an innocent
explanation for this whole mess. She needed to talk to Joe immediately. Nikita
was an anti-terrorist agent. Surely she could deal with a ten-year-old boy even
if he was Immortal.
“Come on, Michael,” she said. “We’ll come
back soon.”
He looked doubtful, but followed her down
the hall to her own apartment.
Chapter Sixteen
After Michael and Mahleah left, Kenny began
gathering his few things. Nikita grabbed his hands and asked, “Kenny, what’s
going on?”
He looked at her furiously. Obviously, this
whole thing had been a setup from the start. Chris brought him to Nikita who
softened him up until the Brennan woman arrived. No doubt, she was on the phone
with MacLeod right now. He had to get out of here.
“Let me go,” he demanded.
“No, not until you explain some things to
me.”
“You’re working with MacLeod. I have
nothing to say to you.”
“You said MacLeod tried to kill you. Why
would he want to do that? I’ve seen Duncan MacLeod. He struck me as a nice
guy.”
Oh, they were all the same. Just because
some guy was six feet tall with muscles, women had to swoon all over him. Yet,
he didn’t even have a chance with a teenage girl. He pulled away from the
blonde. His hand slipped inside his bag, as he started for the door.
She blocked his way, “Kenny, please, I
promise no one’s going to hurt you. Now, just tell me what the problem is. I’m
sure we can work this whole thing out.”
“Get out of my way!” he screamed in rage.
********
In Mahleah’s apartment, Michael watched as
his friend frantically punched numbers on her telephone.
“Damn Joe, pick up,” she murmured. When
there was no response, she hung up and dialed a different number.
Michael could feel the very palpable sense
of emergency emanating from her. The last time he’d heard that note in her
voice had been when she thought Claire was dangerous, which would imply that
Kenny was one of her “people.” With a start, he realized what Kenny’s eyes had
reminded him of -- Kassim, who had shot Mahleah and fought her to the death.
His heart speeded up.
“Tony,” Mahleah was saying into the phone.
“Is Joe there by any chance? Joe, tell me everything you know about a kid named
Kenny…how old? Amanda, you said? Oh my
God, he did what to Anne? Listen, could
you get hold of Amanda for me, please. It’s an emergency….”
They both heard a shot coming from down the
hall. Mahleah dropped the telephone as they sprinted toward Nikita’s apartment.
The door was closed and locked. Michael was preparing to kick the door in when
Mahleah put a hand on his arm.
“When we get in there, you concentrate on
getting Nikita in the clear, okay? Let
me worry about Kenny.”
He nodded once and forced the door open.
Inside he saw Kenny holding a gun on Nikita. Aside from being slightly pale,
she appeared to be fine. The shot they’d heard appeared to have only been a
warning. For a child, he held the weapon with a calm, nearly professional,
grip. His face, though, was full of
rage.
Michael saw that Nikita rather than trying
to fight with the boy, was attempting to talk him out of the gun. It was
characteristic of her not want to hurt the child, but it was putting her in
danger.
“Kenny,” she was saying. “We don’t have to
do this. Just give me the gun.”
Michael began reaching into his coat for
his own pistol, but felt a nudge from Mahleah. He looked at her. Her eyes were warning him to stop. She
glanced down and he saw she was already armed. She looked swiftly at Nikita and
back again at him. He got the message.
Kenny was nervously dividing his attention
between Nikita and the other two operatives. Michael could see the boy’s
trigger finger was beginning to tighten and made his move. Springing forward, he tackled Nikita, knocking
her out of harm’s way. He heard two shots echo through the apartment and felt
something graze his side. When he looked up, Kenny was falling to the floor,
shot through the heart.
Mahleah stepped forward, pistol in hand,
and made certain that he was dead. Michael relaxed his grip on Nikita and
pulled out his cell-phone. Mahleah stared at the small figure for a long moment
then turning to Michael said, “If you’re calling housekeeping tell them I’ll
take care of the body.”
“The shots will have been heard. The neighbors
are probably calling the police now,” Michael pointed out. Section would need to intercept the
authorities and substitute their own operatives for any subsequent
investigation.
“True,” she conceded. She bent over and
picked up Kenny’s slight form.
“What are you going to do with him?” Nikita
demanded.
Mahleah gave a grim smile, “It’s best that
you don’t know.”
After she’d left, Nikita noticed Michael
was bleeding. “You’re hurt,” she exclaimed. “Come with me.”
She led him to the bathroom, and discovered
that the wound was superficial. As she cleansed and bandaged his side, he could
see she was holding back tears.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She blinked, and he could see that she
wasn’t just sad she was angry as well. “She didn’t have to kill him, Michael.”
“He was about to shoot you,” he answered.
“So, she couldn’t have hit him in the hand
or the shoulder? She’s been trained as a sniper, Michael. No, she hit the target she wanted and she
wanted him dead.”
“She wanted you alive,” he corrected.
“I saw her face. She meant to kill him. Why?
Obviously, Kenny was troubled, but we could have found him some help –
counseling or something. Why did she have to take lethal action?”
He didn’t know the full answer to her
question, but he did understand one thing: Mahleah had fired to prevent him
from doing the same thing. If she hadn’t, Nikita’s rage would be directed at
him now. Would he have aimed for the heart?
He honestly didn’t know now, but with Nikita’s life at stake he wouldn’t
have hesitated to pull the trigger.
What he didn’t comprehend was why Mahleah had insisted on taking care of
the body. What did she intend to do
with it?
Chapter Seventeen
Mahleah sat on a park bench staring an
extremely large teddy bear. It had been a present from Walter and she hadn’t
had the heart to tell him she wasn’t really into collecting such things. Still, it had been a sweet gift and she
regretted the use she’d had to put it to.
She felt a tingle run through her, and glanced around quickly. The teddy bear began to squirm, and she put
a warning hand on it.
“Be still,” she commanded. “I don’t want to
knock you out, but I will if I must.”
There was a muffled squeal of protest but
it grudgingly subsided.
Mahleah watched as a tall woman with short
blonde hair sat down beside her. She
glanced around, “So, where’s Kenneth?”
Mahleah patted the bear on the back, “Right
here.”
The newcomer took off her sunglasses and
raised an eyebrow, “You stuck him in a teddy bear?”
“Well, Amanda, you tell me a better way to
smuggle him out of the building. Between the neighbors and my bosses I figured
it was safer all around if no one saw him.”
“I wasn’t criticizing,” Amanda replied
blithely. “It was quick thinking.”
Mahleah glanced at the plush brown toy, “Do
you think you can help him?”
Amanda had a sad, far-away look in her
eyes, “I don’t know if anyone can. We’re talking about over eight hundred years
of psychoses here. I’ll do my best,
though.” She looked at the bear. “I owe
him that much.”
Mahleah touched her arm gently, and Amanda
cleared her throat and put her glasses back on, “Yeah, well, how are you and
Mac getting along these days?”
It was a loaded question. This was the first time they had spoken
since Duncan had made a choice between them.
Mahleah swallowed. She and Amanda had always been friends and she needed
to be able to rely on that closeness now.
“I need you to give him a message for me,”
she said slowly. “It’s very important.”
“Why can’t you tell him yourself?” Amanda
replied a little sharply.
“I can’t contact him directly right now,
it’s too dangerous. He should meet me
tonight at Darius’ chapel at 10 o’clock.”
Amanda put her hands in her pockets, “Fine,
I’ll tell him.”
“There’s something else,” Mahleah said with
a sigh. “I’m going to talk to him about it when we meet, but I want you to
promise me something.”
Amanda studied her closely, “What’s that?”
“Duncan has to leave Paris, preferably
tonight. He’s going to protest, but there’s no way around it. Promise me,
you’ll make sure he goes.”
Amanda was very quiet, “How important is
this?”
“Vital – for his future as well as mine.
Please Amanda, the consequences could be deadly.”
Amanda’s lips twitched, “Don’t tell me –
mortal lives are in jeopardy.”
“Yes.”
“And if he resists both of us? You know as
well as I do how hard-headed he can get.”
“He has to leave Paris tonight,” Mahleah
repeated. “In fact, the sooner you can get him out of the barge, the better.”
The two women exchanged a final look, and
then Amanda nodded, “I promise.”
Mahleah bit her lip and swallowed, then
said in a husky voice, “Thank you.”
Her cell-phone chose to ring at that
moment. She answered it and heard Michael say, “Kensei.”
“Yes?” she responded.
“Madeline wishes to speak to you about the
shooting. Come in as soon as possible.”
“Fine.” She hung up.
“I have to go,” she told her old friend.
“You take care of yourself,” Amanda told
her. “I’d never be able to deal with MacLeod if something happened to you.”
Mahleah half-sighed, half-laughed, “I love
you too.”
They hugged before rising. There was business to be taken care of.
******
When Mahleah entered Section, she saw
Michael and Nikita leaving for their mission with Davenport. She continued walking into Madeline’s office
displaying her best poker face. After
she had seated herself, Madeline began the Debrief.
“Why did you shoot the boy?”
Coolly Mahleah said, “He was holding one of
our operatives as a hostage. I took appropriate steps to ensure her safety.”
Madeline rested her fingers on the desktop,
“I would have imagined you’d have more qualms about shooting such a young
person.”
“He was threatening a friend, perhaps
you’ve underestimated my reaction to such experiences.”
“Indeed,” Madeline nodded once. “It will
not happen again. What happened to the
body?”
“I disposed of it.”
“Why? Why not wait for Housekeeping?”
“As you said he was a ten year old boy. The
least I could do was take care of his body myself.”
Madeline paused, before asking, “What did
you do with it?”
“Does it matter? He was dead – he’s no
longer a threat.”
Madeline seemed to taking mental notes
about this interesting accomplishment. Mahleah really wanted to leave. She wanted to let Tony know that she would
need to leave the band for about an hour tonight, and she had to prepare the
arguments required to convince MacLeod of her plan. She looked at Madeline calmly and asked, “Will there be anything
else?”
“Have you made your decision yet?”
“About helping you break up Michael and
Nikita? I thought I had twenty four hours to consider it,” she replied showing
casual indifference while inside her heart was racing.
“I will see you tomorrow then,” Madeline
concurred, but as Mahleah rose to go, Section’s psychologist had one more barb
to throw out.
“Just remember the consequences if you
refuse. After all, your and MacLeod’s
lives aren’t the only ones at stake here are they? Wouldn’t Michael and Nikita
be better off separate and alive rather than together and dead?”
Mahleah walked out, without letting
Madeline see that her parting shot had found its mark.
Chapter Eighteen
As Mahleah walked through the halls of
Section after her one-on-one with Madeline, she spotted a familiar face.
“Beth,” she greeted the woman. “How are
things with you?”
“Mahleah, I haven’t seen much of you
lately.”
“There are benefits to a long-term
undercover assignment, but its drawback is I hardly ever get to see my
friends. So, tell me what’s going on
around here? You always know the best
gossip.”
Beth’s face clouded, “Have you heard about
Walter and Birkoff?”
Mahleah knew that Walter had long been a
favorite of Beth’s. In fact, she had been one of the women Mahleah had been
thinking of when she told Walter he could easily find companionship in Section.
She was friendly, bright, and beautiful with long legs and flawless dark
skin. She really needed to hook the two
of them up.
“No,” she responded, “but I could tell
there’s friction between the two of them.
What’s going on?”
“They’ve been dating the same woman –
Valerie. Do you know her?”
Mahleah frowned, remembering the strange
look she’d gotten from the profiler earlier, “We’ve met.”
“None of the female ops can stand her. I’ve even heard rumors that she has been
known to run valentine ops occasionally. Now, why can’t Walter do better than
that?”
Mahleah’s eyes glinted dangerously, “Val
ops, huh? Interesting.” She returned her attention to Beth. “Well, girl, he can
and he will. Why don’t you drop by and see him? Ask him out.”
Beth’s brow furrowed, “But if he’s dating
Valerie already?”
“Why would he bother with her when he could
have you?” Mahleah smoothly cut in. “Oh, do you play chess by the way?”
“Yes.”
“Are you good?”
“I’m no grand master, but I can play a
decent game,” Beth shrugged her shoulders, obviously wondering where this was
going.
“If you date him, challenge him to a
match,” Mahleah advised. “If you want
to make it really interesting put stakes on the more important pieces.”
“Stakes?”
Mahleah grinned, “Yeah, turn it into strip
chess. All the important pieces represent articles of clothing – makes for a
fascinating battle of wits.”
Beth’s eyes widened, “You’ve done this
before?” At the other woman’s nod, she asked, “With Walter?”
“No,” Mahleah shook her head. “It’s really
best when the opponents are equally matched – it wouldn’t have been a fair game
with Walter.”
“So who was the lucky guy?” Beth’s
considerable curiosity was piqued.
Mahleah’s expression grew wistful, “Never
mind – it doesn’t matter. Now you run along and reel him in. I’m counting on
you to free him from the clutches of that barracuda.”
*******
Valerie was in a bad mood before she
encountered Mahleah. She had been
enjoying her assignment from Madeline until both of her targets broke off with
her. Both of them! Her ego was still stinging from that
fact. Walter had calmly explained that
after giving it serious thought they were looking for different things in a
relationship and she’d probably be better off with Birkoff. Yet, that young man
had reacted quite strangely to the news that she was now all his. She wondered if he sensed she was lying
about who had ended that particular tryst. Instead of being overjoyed that he’d
won, he’d turned on her and given her a lecture about Walter’s better
qualities. Bizarre!
Madeline had been so pleased with her
progress in creating a rift between the two friends. She was absently walking
through a corridor in Section contemplating how to admit to that terrifying
woman she’d ultimately failed to cause a complete break between them when she
noticed Mahleah coming towards her. She
disliked the class three operative intensely. Every time she’d been with
Walter, she’d gotten the feeling he was comparing her, unfavorably, with his
ex. Why in the hell had he broken up with her if he still felt that way?
She didn’t realize until the last second
that Mahleah wasn’t walking by her. Instead, the tall, powerful woman grabbed
her by the shoulders and pinning her to the walls hissed, “I know what you’re
up to, and you won’t succeed. Tell your
puppet-master that there’s no way in hell that Walter and Birkoff are going to
come to blows over a tuppence an hour trollop like you. So, whatever scheme she’s
up to, will just have to go back to the drawing board. You’re through. Do you understand me?”
Valerie nodded, fear coursing through her
body. God, this amazon had a strong grip. Looking into those fierce, dark eyes,
she could tell that Mahleah was near the breaking point and she definitely
didn’t want to be the one to tip the balance. “I understand,” she answered. No
problem, they’d already broken it off anyway. Guess she didn’t know that yet.
Mahleah released her, “Good, because you
don’t want to run into me again.” She stalked away.
Valerie swallowed. She’d been so happy to come to Section One
but she was beginning to think it would be healthier somewhere else. When she made her final report to Madeline,
she’d ask for a transfer.
******
Michael and Nikita had just returned from
their mission and he was beginning to feel the effects of a very long day. Yet, vindication was at hand, as he had
rescued a soured profile from failure and Chris Davenport had just acknowledged
that fact. Now he just wanted to have a relaxing evening with Nikita and rest
his aching body. His side was aching
from Kenny’s bullet wound.
Nikita stopped him in the hallway. “So what
are you going to do now?” she asked.
“Let’s go home,” he suggested, and began
walking down the corridor.
“You can’t deny to yourself what happened
today, Michael,” she called after him. He stopped and she began slowly walking
toward him. “You’re a level five operative.” He turned to face her as she
concluded, “That’s the only way you can live.”
Her voice was firm but full of sorrow as if she’d made a decision that
she’d grieve for later.
“I don’t want to think about it right now,”
he said. Couldn’t they just go home,
and not deal with Section for a few hours?
She looked at him sadly, “You’re going to
have to, because when you lead missions we survive.”
His heart sank knowing it would be nearly
impossible to change her mind. It was
no longer a matter of defying Section. She was tired of seeing the cat and
mouse tactics they were taking with him, and more importantly, she believed
that if it kept him from performing his normal duties their relationship was a
selfish one. If the price for their happiness was fellow operatives’ lives, she
couldn’t pay it. He wouldn’t expect her to really. It would violate the very
things he loved about her most, and yet…. Give her up?
“We were on to something – maybe there’s a
way,” he tried, but she wouldn’t buy it.
“They’re not going to let this play on for
much longer,” she shook her head and looked away. “There’s no other way. If we end
it now, we can at least…preserve our friendship.” She tried to smile, but her
eyes were wet.
He gently ran his thumb over her eyebrow.
As his fingers continued caressing her, she turned her face into his palm for
an instant, and then moved down the hallway. He stood frozen in his tracks for
an eternity it seemed before moving on to face his enemies.
******
Madeline was in the perch with Operations
when Michael walked in to speak to them.
“Yes, Michael?” Operations asked.
She noticed Michael hesitated as if the
words stuck in his throat. “I want my status reinstated.”
It was not a request, and Operations
glanced in her direction before looking back at his problematic operative. “What about you and Nikita?”
“It’s over,” Michael stated flatly.
Operations studied him before warning, “You
know that it will be pointless for you to deceive me on this.”
“I know,” Michael responded softly.
Operations thought about this for a moment
then tapped a command into the keyboard behind him. He turned back to Michael,
“Level five status reinstated, effective immediately.”
Michael turned and left and Operations
turned to her with doubt written across his face, “Will it hold?”
She gave a nod, “For now.”
They exchanged a look and Madeline added,
“What would you like to do about Mahleah?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve achieved our goal, at least
temporarily, and no longer need her assistance. Would you like her canceled?”
“No,” he responded. “If Michael is trying
to trick us we may still need her – especially if we are forced to proceed with
the Gelman profile.”
Madeline nodded, hiding her amusement at
his rather blatant maneuverings. He had
made an excellent point even if his motives were considerably different than
his pretense. She’d heard about the
meeting between the two in a darkened perch.
Knowing Paul as well as she did, she had no doubt of the bargain being
struck. That was fine. If he wanted to occupy himself pursuing a
new mistress, it saved her the trouble of going to his bed. She could
concentrate on projects that were more personal.
“True,” she agreed, “and Duncan MacLeod?”
His gaze darkened, “Cancel him.”
She smiled. Had he thought about how killing her lover would make Mahleah
feel about him?
Chapter Nineteen
Walter was in the middle of an interesting
new project when Birkoff approached Munitions.
He heard the younger man call his name and sighed. He left the storage area and walked toward
his friend.
“What?” he asked.
Birkoff handed him a PDA and explained, “I
forgot to return this to you.”
Walter took it, and put it away, “I thought
you had a date tonight?”
Birkoff seemed to dismiss the idea, “No, I
don’t think it’s going to work out with me and Valerie.”
Realization dawned on the older man: he’s
given her up. “That’s too bad,” he said
softly.
Birkoff shrugged off such sentiments, “Oh,
not really. She’s not my type.”
Oh God, he’s given her up because of me, he
thought guiltily. The first woman he’s shown an interest in since Claire and he
gave her up.
“Look, Birkoff,” he said. “Don’t worry
about me, okay? I mean if you want to see her, see her. It’s no big thing.”
Birkoff shook his head and stepped toward
Walter, “I don’t think so. I don’t have a lot of friends. I didn’t like the way
it felt not being able to talk to you.”
Walter was touched and humbled. He looked
down at the floor in embarrassment, then looked directly in his friend’s eyes,
“You can talk to me anytime you want.”
Relief shown on Birkoff’s face, “Thanks
Walter.” He walked away with a lighter step.
Walter let his feelings settle down again
and then returned to Beth, who was looking at him with amusement. He still felt
a little guilty – he’d so obviously gotten the better end of this bargain.
“Where were we?” he asked her with playful
eyes.
She smiled and backed him into the shelves.
*******
Mahleah’s heart felt a little lighter when
she saw Walter and Birkoff talking to each other with such a happy result. At least Section hadn’t succeeded in
destroying one of the relationships around here. She’d already had an unhappy encounter with Nikita earlier in
which she had learned that her favorite couple had broken up again. It was more
than Nikita had learned from her, and the tension between them had
increased. She couldn’t really blame
her friend for that response. Knowing
nothing of Immortals, her neighbor had only seen the brutal side of her
actions. Well, she could do nothing about that situation now; she had songs to
sing and a stubborn man to debate.
When she reached Darius’ old rectory later
that night, she found him waiting for her. His face warned her that he wasn’t
very happy. It seemed that Amanda had passed along her message. He stood up as
she reached him.
“I thought we’d settled this days ago,” he
said firmly. “Now suddenly, Amanda’s informing me she’s promised to get me out
of Paris tonight by any means necessary.”
She swallowed, “I’m sorry, Mac. This can’t
work right now. There’s too much at
stake.”
“Like what? We’ve already discussed my safety, so that’s surely not an issue
again. What’s going on?”
“I just decided that I had no right to be
selfish,” she said softly.
“What are you talking about? You have every
right to be happy.”
She shook her head, “Not at everyone else’s
expense, Mac. It’s not just a question of our lives anymore, there are others
at stake.”
Comprehension dawned in his eyes. “They’ve
threatened your friends if you don’t give me up?”
“Yes.” The word hung between them like a
gulf.
“Mahleah, come with me. I know you want to
help Michael and the others, but maybe you could do more from the outside.”
A single tear clung tenaciously from her
lower lashes before sliding down her cheek. She closed her eyes. “I don’t think
so, Mac. I have enough guilt on my
conscience without leaving people I care about to suffer while I’m seeking my
own happiness. We both know that I did some questionable things before coming
to Section. There’s a part of me that thinks that this is my way of making
amends. Maybe I can’t do anything but offer moral support, but if I don’t try I
could never forgive myself.”
He pulled her closer to him, “And if they
kill you?”
She gave him a watery smile, “I’ll have to
readjust my plans.”
He let out a sigh of pure frustration and
wrapped his arms around her, “Are you sure about this, mhurninn?”
“No,” she laughed, “but it’s what I have to
do. You were the one that taught me
about taking responsibility for my actions remember? That’s all I’m trying to do.”
“Amanda’s right,” he muttered. “Sometimes I
am too much of a Boy Scout.”
She hugged him tighter. “I wouldn’t have
you any other way.” Thank God, she thought. It’s getting too dangerous for
you here. They already want to kill you. What if they succeed and then discover
that you’re still alive? One hint of your healing powers could get you strapped
into a laboratory faster than you can say Wolverine. No, you need to get the
hell out of Paris.
******
Mahleah appeared at the door to the perch
rather early the next day. Operations and Madeline had just finished discussing
the fact that she had apparently managed to warn her lover to slip out of the
country; however, it was just a matter of time before he was found and
eliminated.
Operations saw that she walked in with her
cheeks flushed and her head held high. “About that deal,” she began. “Since I
can’t accept it, you’ll just have to go ahead and cancel me.”
What a beautiful bluff, he admired
silently. She seemed so calm with only
her color betraying her.
“There is no deal,” Madeline informed her.
“Michael and Nikita have dealt with the matter themselves to our satisfaction.”
“So you no longer need me?” the question
was nearly a challenge. In her eyes, he could see her preparing to hear the
order to die.
“Not in this capacity,” he said with pleasure.
“We’ve decided that you might be useful in a future profile and of course your
technical skills are extraordinary. Since you’ll never see Duncan MacLeod
again,” he made this statement sound like an incontrovertible fact, “you’ll be
allowed to live.”
“If, however,” Madeline added, “you refuse
to cooperate in any future profiles, you will be canceled on the spot.”
Mahleah nodded, “I understand.”
She didn’t seem scared at all. What a
fascinating woman! He watched her walk out of the room, and observed Madeline
note that he watched her walk out of the room. He was aware that Madeline saw
his actions as a simple response to lust – far from it. If Mahleah had given in to either of his
demands, her appeal for him would have diminished. He had wondered how far she would be willing to go in order to
preserve the things she held dear.
Apparently, she was willing to sacrifice her life but not her honor. A
little naïve, perhaps, but he could teach her better. She would be an excellent
partner to grace both his bed and his new status as soon as he advanced.
Duncan MacLeod was now out of her life for
good, and her close relationship with Michael could only benefit him when
Michael was in charge of Section One and he was in Oversight. Oh yes, he was pleased with the results of
this little test.
Chapter Twenty
Mahleah looked out at the dozen or so
customers at “The Copperhead.” It was
time for her last number, but she just didn’t feel up to the upbeat song they
had rehearsed. Looking through her heart for a more appropriate selection, she
recalled the evening she and Mac had danced to U2’s cover of “Unchained
Melody”, which was actually a ‘B’ side of a single. The ‘A’ side floated through her head, and she reached for her
acoustic guitar.
Seth looked puzzled, but was ready to
follow her lead. She began the opening notes and sang softly.
You
say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
You
say you want your story to remain untold
But
all the promises we made from the cradle to the grave
The band had recognized the ballad and now
joined in.
You
say you’ll give me a highway with no one on it
A
treasure just to look upon it
All
the riches in the night
You
say you’ll give me eyes in a moon of blindness
A
river in a time of dryness
A
harbor in the tempest
But
all the promises we make from the cradle to the grave
When
all I want is you
She could see him in her mind’s eyes as
plainly as if he were standing in front of her now. His eyes were shining and
he was smiling at some crazy remark she had made. She missed him already.
You
say you want your love to work out right
To
last with me through the night.
You
say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
Your
story to remain untold
Your
love not to grow cold
When
all I want is you
Tony had informed her when she came in that
Joe had left this morning. She was
glad. Even if he was only trying to do
his duty as both friend and Watcher, it was a relief to know that all her old
friends would be out of harm’s way. Section’s resources were wide and
comprehensive but when Duncan wanted to hide, no one would find him. She knew
that from experience. After their friend Richie’s death, she had searched for
him for months with not a trace to be found.
Her voice cracked as she repeated the last
phrase, “You, all I want is you.” She thought abstractedly that it almost
sounded as if she were keening…how appropriate.
*******
Michael walked up to Nikita’s door and
knocked. She opened the door and though
surprised to see him, responded warmly, “Come in.”
“No,” he said. “I just came by to tell you
something. It’s not over. We will be
together.” He made the statement emphatically, so she would have no doubts
about his intentions. He pulled her fingers up to his lips, and then backed
off. He could see the astonished delight in her eyes as he turned and walked
away.
He headed to “The Copperhead.” Hopefully
Mahleah would be off the hook with Operations since he and Nikita “officially” broke
up, but he needed to be sure. Of course
if he could get answers to some of the questions that had been bothering him
since the Kenny incident, that would be fine too.
When he got there, he found the band had
already packed it in for the night. Tony was behind the bar, pouring drinks for
the last couple of customers, but waved him over when he saw the operative walk
through the door.
“Michael, just the man I wanted to see,” he
said jovially.
When Michael sat down, Tony lowered his
voice, “So you guys managed to run MacLeod out of town. Quite an accomplishment, congratulations.”
Michael blinked, “MacLeod’s gone?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know?”
He shook his head. Where was Mahleah?
“He cleared out last night. I figured
Mahleah had told you. Poor kid, she looked terrible.”
“I haven’t seen her since yesterday,”
Michael said absently. “Where is she
now, her apartment?”
“I doubt it,” Tony told him. “Knowing her
she’s probably out walking somewhere. She does that when she’s upset.”
He nodded. He’d known her to do that
before. In fact, he had a hunch where
she might be headed.
“Thanks for telling me,” he told the
bartender.
Strolling out into the night, he headed for
the Seine River and Notre Dame.
After he got over the gate surrounding the
square, he spotted the lone figure on the bench. She’d pulled her legs up
beside her, and was resting her chin on her knees. He walked up and sat down beside her.
“Hey, Musashi,” she greeted him wanly.
“How’d you find me?”
He gestured at the area, “You come here
when you’re upset.”
She was rocking a little, “You heard about
Duncan, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I sent him away. It was a good thing too.
I heard through the grapevine that Section sent someone to the barge to kill
him.”
“So, how are things between you and
Section?” he inquired gently.
“They decided I still have value so I’m not
in abeyance yet. They want something from me,” she added nonchalantly. “I don’t
know what, but I’m sure I’ll find out when they’re ready.”
“No more propositions?”
“Nope, just a few admiring looks. God only
knows what’s going on in his head. I don’t want to think about it right now. I
don’t want to think at all actually.”
“Not even about telling me whom or what
Kenny was?” he asked.
“Kenny’s Kenny,” she answered noncommittally.
“He was one of your people wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And MacLeod’s one of your people?”
“Yes.”
“So how do you decide which of your people
you kill?”
“Generally when one of them comes swinging
at me,” she said bluntly.
“Even ten-year-old kids?”
“Ten-year-old kids?” she laughed a little.
“If you mean kids like Kenny, yeah. So if you want to condemn me go ahead, but
Nikita’s beat you to it.”
“I know.”
He’d been told that Mahleah had refused to answer any of Nikita’s
questions and out of anger and frustration Nikita had told her, “I knew that
you’d influenced Michael for the better, but now it seems that the reverse is
true as well. You’ve mastered the blank stare.”
“I know you well enough to understand there
was more going on in that situation than met the eye,” he told her.
She turned her head to the side, but kept
it lying on her knees, “Now’s not the time to get into this.”
“You can’t keep putting me off, Mahleah,”
he warned.
“I know. I know,” she whispered, “Someday.”
“Promise me,” he demanded.
She was silent. “Mahleah,” he prodded.
She finally answered, “I promise that I’ll
tell you all about it someday. You know, Musashi, I think Nikita’s wrong: I’ve
had a bad influence on you. You’re
talking too much.”
His lips quirked upwards. Turning, he
straddled the bench and pulled her back until she was leaning against him. One hand rubbed her shoulder and arm and
the other stroked her hair lightly. She sighed and relaxed slightly. They sat
together watching the moon and the stars – willfully forgetting for the moment
that a place called Section One existed.
End of The Power to Hurt II
The songs quoted here are (by performer not
writer):
“Black Dog”
“Rock and Roll”
“Battle of Evermore”
“Stairway to Heaven” – all by Led Zeppelin
“Criminal” by Fiona Apple
“Why” by Annie Lennox
“I Second That Emotion” by Smokey Robinson
“Unchained Melody” by U2
“Dream On” by Aerosmith
“50 Foot Queenie”
“Me-Jane” by P. J. Harvey
“Love is Blindness”
“All I Want is You” by U2