Material
"Hi Walter," Nikita said, walking up to the elderly man, with hair almost as long as hers. He wore a grateful dead T-shirt, his usual bandanna, earrings, and jeans. He looked like he belonged on the back of a truck, smoking weed, not doing fine, detailed work with guns, bombs and electronics.
The table in his station was covered with little pieces of various gadgets, jars and containers of god knew what. He wasn't working with something under a microscope, and he wasn't wearing those thick glasses to enlarge things, so she didn't think he was working on anything dangerous. He did have gloves on, the kind you find in those hair dye boxes.
" Hey Sugar, hand me that jar of blue dye over there," he said, nodding to a jar that sat on the far edge of the table.
Nikita picked it up, and handed it over to him, seeing that there were several jars of dye. Another can held red, darker blue, brown, green, and black.
" Are we tie dying our guns today?" she asked, looking at all the bits and piece of machinery set out.
" Nope," he answered, " Sugar, hand me that makeup compact over there."
She reached out and picked up an empty makeup compact. It held only empty tins.
" Explosive makeup compact," Walter told her, " colored c-4 in the tins, and the brush here, holds three charges." Walter explained, " Make sure your own makeup case looks different enough."
She nodded, eyebrows raised, " So, why is everyone so tense? Madeline called me this morning, wanted me to meet with her at 10:00."
Walter looked up, his eye's scanning the room, looking at faces, to see who was paying attention to them, and who wasn't. Operations was not in his glass tower over looking everyone, which only meant he was with Madeline.
" Billings killed another one of his recruits, came damn close to killing another - and you know how we are hurting for operatives right now - even the green ones."
She whistled low, " What did he do?"
" Beat them both, the one who died, bled to death in his quarters, Billings ordered him locked in, and Operations and Madeline were gone for the night, no one questioned Billings, the other he raped and beat to within inches of her life, earlier this morning. Michael happened to walk through surveillance when he was finishing, and someone said something to him."
" God," Nikita breathed, " What are they gonna do?" Walter shrugged, " If Billings hasn't been canceled yet, it's just cause they're filling the syringe still. This aint the first time Sugar."
Nikita's eye's widened, " He did this before? And got away with it?"
" He's 'accidentally' killed recruits in training. You know section - if they can't handle it. . . ."
Nikita nodded, frowning, " So what did Michael do?"
" Walked in, tranqued Billing's, and had medlab come pick up the recruit - she was just about two weeks from her supervised operative status," Walter told her, " I'm surprised Michael didn't kill Billings himself."
Nikita looked at the clock on the wall, " I guess I ought to be going on up there."
" Tread light Sugar, Operations hates problems like this, and we know you're his favorite person."
Nikita rolled her eye's, and started across the floor towards the stairs that would lead her off to Madelines office."
* * * * *
" Good morning Nikita," Madeline said as Nikita walked into her office. The tall blonde was dressed in nice jeans, some kind of fashionable boots that went under the jeans, and a tucked in pink oxford. There was a time when Nikita would have come in wearing bright garish colors, an outfit that screamed lack of taste, but somehow, she made it work. Yet Nikita had matured over the last year somehow - but she hadn't changed so much that she wasn't Nikita. She still didn't agree with most everything they did, and she still voiced her opinion, but she was at least thinking about what effect her actions would have on those around her - namely Michael.
Operations was standing across the room, dressed in his standard dark slacks and shirt, his POW pin on his collar, his arms folded over his chest, looking annoyed. He didn't say anything as Nikita walked in. Madeline remained sitting behind her desk, wearing one of her sedate dark business suits with the skirts that came to just above the knee, looking polished and professional.
" Good morning," Nikita answered back, and looked over at the screen where a woman with flame red hair lay on a medlab gurney " Air is rather tense in section today."
" We have a small dilemma," Madeline told her, " I'm sure you've heard by now what happened here last night."
Nikita nodded, " Makes me glad Michael was my trainer."
" The recruit who survived is in medlab now, expected to leave in two days. We expected to be able to use her for supervised missions in two weeks," Madeline told her.
" How bad are her injuries," Nikita asked, since it was obvious she'd be involved in this somehow.
" Bruising mostly. Some tearing from the rape, but the doctors say she will heal normally, it's her mental status that concerns me right now."
Nikita wondered why the redhead asleep on the screen hadn't been canceled, if Madeline was concerned about her mental state. Section simply didn't care about personal problems. You dealt with them, outside of the mission, or you died. But they were short people right now too.
" Billings had three recruits under him. One is dead. Another was ignored last night, and had no idea any of this had happened. Michael has him now. The third is the woman you see. She scored extremely well, in everything, better than most of the recruits trained by Billings. She was a very promising recruit."
" You keep saying was, as if she's already finished," Nikita mentioned, and her eye's flickered over to Operations, who stared right back at her. Nikita held his gaze for a moment, and looked back at Madeline.
" You know as well as I what effects this kind of trauma can have on a woman. I want you to become her friend, get her through this, finish her training. She's your material."
Nikita opened her mouth, and closed it. Less than a year ago she was walking a thin line, not knowing if she was going to be canceled - again - or allowed to live. Now she was being given material?
" Is this another test, like Karen," Nikita asked, looking from Madeline, to Operations, and back to Madeline.
" Everything we do, day in, and day out, is a test," Madeline told her, " This young woman's life is in your hands Nikita."
Madeline produced a disk, and handed it to Nikita.
" She fails, you fail," Operations told her, finally speaking.
Nikita repressed a shiver that ran down her spine. How many times had they said that to Michael, about her?
" How much time do I have?" Nikita asked Madeline.
" Three weeks, from today," Madeline answered, and managed a small smile, " See Michael about the kind of reports you'll be expected to file."
* * * * *
Her 'material' was still asleep, heavily sedated, which was exactly where she would stay, for the next two days as far as Nikita was concerned. That would give her time to study her file, look into what Billings had taught her, and try to figure out what she was going to do with her. She'd headed over to Birkoff's communication's station, seeing Michael standing there, dressed in exercise cloths. Another man stood by him, obviously a recruit. Both were tall, muscular, and had obviously been working out. But where Michael's auburn curls were tucked behind his ears, his recruit had pulled his straight, jet black hair into a pony tail. His skin coloring and facial features suggested he had Hispanic origins, and he smiled as she walked up. Unlike many of the operatives Nikita dealt with, the smile did reach his smoldery black eye's.
Nikita stood there for a moment, until Michael looked over at her, and said nothing for several long moments.
" Where are your manners Michael?"
" Nikita, this is Darren, one of our recruits," Michael answered, and he looked from Nikita, up to Madeline office for moment, asking an unspoken question.
Nikita took a deep breath, " I was hoping you could tell me a little about Billings training regimen."
Darren looked at the screen, that now, even Birkhoff was ignoring.
" I have some scores and data for you in my office," Michael told her, and looked at Darren for a moment, " Stay here with Birkoff, get your sim running."
Michael turned, and headed for his office, Nikita falling into step with him. They both remained silent until they were in his office, the door closed behind him. She quickly slid her fingers into his, and he held on, and walked her around his desk, and he brought up a set of statistics.
" His material has never scored exceptionally in anything, they pass, but that is all. The ones who did do rather well, all had accidents during their training," Michael told her, watching her expression as he spoke. She had a stern frown on her face, her eye's dancing across the type on the screen.
" Was he losing his temper, or purposely killing the ones who did well?" Nikita asked.
Michael was quiet for a moment, " I think it was subconscious."
The blonde nodded, " I have to reach this woman, and bring her up to speed in three weeks."
Nikita looked over at Michael, " She fails, I fail."
* * * * *
Alexandra hurt all over. That was her first clue that she was alive. But she had to be. No matter how hard she prayed for her death, for a release from this hell that was now her life, she knew she would not be released. She had earned her 'life sentence'.
Her mouth felt like she'd been sucking on cotton. She was stiff, and sore all over. Humiliation rushed over her when her mind allowed her to remember, but she pushed it back. It wasn't her fault - not really. Billings was three times her size, and she was locked into that room, there was no place for her to go. She vaguely remembered Michael bursting in, and then the techs from medlab, and that was it, when consciousness had started to slip away, she was almost overjoyed, it was would be over, finally, over. But that was not to be.
The door to her room opened, and a tall blond woman dressed in overalls and a T-shirt strolled in, carrying a paper bag. Judging from the aroma, she had brought food.
Alexandra couldn't help but sniff the air. Since she was alive, she was hungry, and she hadn't eaten for two days.
" How are you feeling Alexandra?" the blond woman asked, dragging a chair over to her bedside, and pulling the table that extended over the bed to them as well.
The redhead watched her carefully, " I've been better, but I'll live." Unfortunately.
Nikita smiled at her, " I understand your favorite is Cashew Chicken?"
The redhead watched her unpack the bag, several boxes of Chinese food, a couple spoons, forks and chop sticks, a couple cokes.
" Do you work for Madeline?" the redhead asked her.
Nikita looked up from the bag, " Me? yes and No, I'm a cold op, what you are training for. I have been assigned to finish your training ."
Alexandra nodded. I'm going to be tortured by Marry Poppins . . . . Alexandra opened up one of the boxes, and grabbed a set of chop sticks, " It's Alex,
" Alex," Nikita repeated, " So, make it easy for me. I have three weeks to get you to supervised status, what are your strong points and weak points?"
" I obviously need help with my martial arts skills," Alexandra said between bites, gesturing to herself and her present location, a hospital bed, " Languages, politics, cultures are good."
" All of your scores are above standard," Nikita told her, " the question is, if you have to seduce a man, could you do it."
The redhead sighed, " If I can survive two years in this place, I figure I can survive damn near anything."
Nikita chuckled, and popped open one of the soda cans, " OK, so training isn't so much fun. We'll work on the martial arts, and we're gonna put you around men, a lot. I went through this once - men were a problem for a little while." So that's they sent me Marry Poppins, Alexandra managed a smile and nod she didn't feel.
Nikita looked up at the redhead, over her box of chow mien, seeing distrust, wariness, and maybe a little bit of hope in the other woman's eyes. She'd have been pretty - prettier - without all the bruises. Big sapphire, blue eye's, pale skin, flame red hair. She had full lips, that were split in three places right now, but they'd heal. Nikita has seen pictures of what she looked like before the beating. She was reasonably pretty, with the right haircut, a little makeup, and the right attitude, she'd be drop dead gorgeous.
" I know this was not my fault you know, It's not like I could get away - I was locked in," Alexandra told her, hoping that she wouldn't be subjected to too much hand holding for long.
" Did Billings do that kind of thing a lot?" Nikita asked her, calmly, as if they were discussing the food they were eating.
" He liked to beat us up, but I only got raped this once - and I don't think he's ever raped the guys," Alexandra told her, " I bet he's really taking this out on them these last two days.
Nikita put down her clump of chow mien, " Billings was canceled two days ago. Darren is working with Michael now."
The redhead watched her for a moment, her face becoming a blank mask, just as Nikita had seen Michael do a thousand times.
" Who is working with Trey?" the redhead asked, even though she knew the answer.
Nikita sighed deeply, and put down the box of food, " I'm sorry, I thought you'd been told . . ."
* * * * *
Michael frowned, and stepped in suddenly, and swept Darrens legs out from under him. The younger man had turned his attention elsewhere, away from his opponent.
Darren looked up at him, " I know, focus - it's just that - I just saw Alex in the hall."
" Allowing yourself to be distracted will get you - and your team - killed," Michael told him.
Darren had been seeing Michael's plain, passive, no emotional mask for three days. At least with Billings, he knew when he was about to get his ass kicked. Darren stood up, and resisted the urge to lash out and dump Michael on his smug ass. Michael would undoubtedly dump Darren again - he was that good, and Darren didn't want to stir up any more trouble. He was too close to being allowed some kind of a life.
The doors opened, and Michael saw Nikita and a redhead walk in. Nikita was dressed in a spandex top and pants. The redhead had on a similar outfit, and her eyes quickly scanned the room warily. She appeared little apprehensive. This was her first day back, out of medlab. She'd had several long visits with Nikita, that felt just like that - a visit. Not a training session, she didn't feel like her brain was picked. Alexandra figured she had perhaps been wrong, Nikita may be just that kind of accepting person, or she was much better than Alexandra had originally thought. Nikita had brought a TV, VCR and Movies that second day, they'd spent the whole day just watching. Birkhoff even joined them with a pizza for a while, and they'd all sat there, and argued about what the spies in the movie had done wrong.
That was yesterday. This morning, she'd showered in her old room, changed into an outfit Nikita brought her, and now they were hitting the weights.
Nikita had asked Michael if they could try to schedule it so they could train Alexandra and Darren together. Nikita had never really trained someone much, and the biggest concern was what the young woman would do around men. The easiest way to start was with one she knew.
" OK, enough sparring for now," Michael told him, " It's time for weights."
They started towards that end of the gym, weaving around the bodies and equipment.
" Are you close?" Michael asked Darren, seeing the younger mans eye's flicker to the redhead, and then right back to Michael.
" Alex? We've been training together for almost two years - you can't help but be close after that," Darren told him. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue. But Michael had proven himself as reasonably fair so far.
" She took the worst of the abuse - she would try to divert Billings attention to her when we could tell he was gonna blow. I used to think that it was her way of trying to kill herself - but I think she was trying to protect Trey and I. It's just the way she is."
Michael began to understand more and more why these two recruits had been reassigned the way the were. Darren was a very open person. He didn't try to hide anything. Michael always knew what the other man was thinking. He was warm, friendly, had a kind word for anyone having a rough day, and always looked for solutions. A lot like Nikita, when she'd first come to Section 1. Alexandra, on the other hand, seemed to be able to shut down all feelings. She had on a plane, emotionless mask most of the time, opened up to no one, and answered questions carefully. The assessment Darren had just given moments ago had been dead on. She had a tendency to try to protect others. She was a lot like Michael that way.
" Red," Darren said, dropping down to shit in front of the lateral pull machine, " It's good to see you back."
Alexandra barely nodded, intent on getting one more rep out of her arms and the weighted bar she was holding, up one more time, despite shaking, screaming, agonizing muscles . . . and down.
" Thanks," she breathed, and eased the bar onto the rack, and stretched out the muscles she'd just been working, all the while, keeping herself close enough to spot Nikita, " I'm sorry about Trey, I know you were friends."
" We . . . all were," Darren said, pulling down what would have once been an impossible weight, " Thanks."
Michael was holding Darren down with is own weight, and he locked eye's with Nikita, and they both instantly knew. There was more, or would be more between these two than just friends through circumstances, even if they didn't know it yet.
* * * * *
" Would you proof read this weeks report?" Nikita asked Michael as she walked into his office.
She dropped down into the chair in front of his desk, and handed him the disk, " Thank you, by the way, for all your help."
Michael smiled, not even remotely interested in the report he'd been working on, her report, their material, anything to do with section. He was completely, totally attentive to the blonde woman in front of him, enjoying the rare indulgence he allowed himself.
" You're welcome," he answered, and just watched her for a few moments. She watched right back. She'd come to realize that there was more to communicating than just words, especially with Michael, a look, a stare, spoke volumes. Right now, she knew he was telling her he wished they could walk away this instant, and leave everything and everyone else behind, just for a few short hours, and they'd do just that, tonight. Over dinner, after dinner . . .
Michael finally put the disk in, and pulled up the report, " Why don't you check the movie listings?"
Nikita nodded, and got up out of the chair, " Sure, I'll be back soon."
She was headed for the communications station, where she could pull up local listings on the net. It suddenly occurred to her, the only time she picked up an actual newspaper anymore was on a mission, when she was trying to look 'in place'.
She rounded the corner, to see the two recruits she and Michael had been working with all week, walking towards her, from the quarters section, dressed to work out.
" Where are you two going?" Nikita asked them, they were already slowing their pace to stop and talk to her.
" I wanted to get in a little more practice sparing," Alexandra told her flatly.
" Sparing with Alex is more appealing than staring at the walls in my room," Darren told her, and rotated his shoulder, " Not that I'm not sore enough already . . ."
Nikita chuckled. Today had been a contest of wills, strength, endurance, and all out pigheadedness. Darren had come close to matching Michael in strength, with Nikita and Alexandra coming in next. They'd all pushed themselves to the point of exhaustion, and here they were going back.
" Don't you have access to a radio, CD's, VCR? There are several available to be checked out for closed quarters," Nikita told them.
Darren nodded slowly, and looked around, and finally answered.
" I guess we're both still getting used to Billings not being around - we have to be authorized to check anything like that out." Darren said, and looked at Alexandra.
" Enjoy your workout," Nikita told them, " I'll take care of it in a few minutes."
Alexandra had managed a strained smile. Clearly uncomfortable with asking for anything. Darren was just the opposite. Attention starved, Nikita would almost say. He was thrilled to death to have someone to be around. Nikita would bet that Alexandra wanted the company herself, but wouldn't ask for it.
" Thanks Nikita," the redhead said, " I guess we'll catch you later."
Nikita nodded, and watched the pair start back down the hall, and wondered how much of it was an actual desire to practice, or to spend the time together, without the prying eye's of section getting to involved.
* * * * *
Nikita had been gone for four days, sent off on a mission at the last minute, because a member of someone else's team fell violently ill with some kind of food poisoning, rumored to have come from outside of section. She'd spent three days on the west coast, tracking an information broker who was in possession of government documents with highly classified research information on them. It was routine, basic, and the whole mission went well, clockwork, though it did feel odd to be working with someone else's team. She hadn't been on point, and though it didn't bother her that someone else had been given the position, how they handled things did. However, they got their documents, their information broker, and it was done with minimal exposure. The mission was a success over all.
She spent two hours in debriefing going over the mission from start to finish with Madeline and Operations. When she'd stood up to leave, Madeline stopped her.
" Your material has been pushing herself while you were away," Madeline told her, "She looks for opportunities to make herself interact with men. I wonder, if she's trying to convince us, or herself."
Nikita stretched her back and side muscles for a moment before answering.
" With what I have been able to learn about Alex in the last week, I'd say she was doing this for herself. She's one of those people that just does what she has to. My first guess would be that she wants to make sure any reservations or hesitations on her part are completely gone."
" We shall see," Madeline answered, and turned her attention to the computer screen. It was a dismissal, so Nikita left.
First, she hit the shower in her section quarters, and went in search of Michael, and their recruits. Four days was a long time to be away when she had three weeks to work with.
She had to question several people, but eventually found Michael, and both recruits in a small room they used for dancing lessons. Nikita had been baffled by the whole idea herself at first, but several hundred missions later, she was glad she had been given lessons.
" How was the mission," Michael asked as Nikita walked in.
The dance instructor was putting both Darren and Alexandra through the paces. He corrected their posture, pushed them closer together, told them over and over again to feel and flow with the music.
" Good . . . Ah . . . I do remember my Dance lessons."
She felt Michael's gaze flicker in her direction for just a moment.
" How have they been doing?" Nikita asked.
" They're performance has been excellent," Michael told her, " She's conquering any fears she had quickly. He's readjusting to the new guidelines."
" They're used to a tyrant," Nikita said softly," Has she opened up at all, to you, or Darren?"
" She hasn't and she won't," Michael told her, " She buries anything uncomfortable, and just performs the task."
Nikita looked at him, " I know someone else like that."
Michael glanced at her briefly, " Be nice."
* * * * *
Several days later. . . .
It was a phone ringing that woke them, and Nikita sat up, shaking the cobwebs from her head, watching Michael leap out of bed, and answer the phone, completely awake in a moment - or perhaps he'd been awake. He was still not much of a sleeper, though, she suspected he got more sleep with her than without.
He hung up the phone, and leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, " I have to go in - and you probably will too - soon."
She nodded, and grabbed up her cloths, which were folded on a chair miraculously. Michael had obviously been awake at some point.
She didn't ask what was going on. Michael wouldn't know until he got there. It was never discussed on the phone.
* * * * *
" Try on this wig," Madeline told Nikita, as she walked in. Sure enough, less than an hour later, her phone was ringing at home, and Michael's voice said "Josephine." Nikita had just gotten out of the shower, and it was a simple matter of dressing and driving in.
The wig was a flame red color, and Nikita pulled it on, and looked in the mirror. It didn't look right, her coloring was all wrong.
" Why am I trying this wig on," Nikita asked Madeline.
" You have to attract a man who has a taste for redheads," Madeline told her, frowning, not liking the look.
" We have a redhead," Nikita said suddenly.
" Marie is still on assignment," Madeline told her, thinking of another operative, " She's too old for the role, he likes young redheads - and we're short operatives as it is, I know it doesn't look quite right, but with a little makeup. . ."
" So why don't we use Alex and Darren," Nikita asked, pulling off the wig.
Madeline stopped reaching for the makeup cases and looked at her, " She's a week out."
" She's ready," Nikita told Madeline, " they both are."
" Will she be able to handle this man touching her, and be convincing? This is an important Mission Nikita. We need to bring him in. He's heavily guarded. She will have to be very close to him," Madeline told her.
" Yes," Nikita answered, sounding sure of herself, and hoping it wasn't unfounded.
* * * * *
Madeline and Nikita walked into the briefing room together, to see Michael and three other operatives waiting for them.
" Nikita believes that Alexandra and Darren are ready to start supervised status," Madeline announced, and looked at Michael, " You have more experience as a trainer."
" I agree," Michael answered, without any hesitation, " Birkhoff and I have altered the scenario a bit, to minimize the exposure and risk. We will still have our people in the club, behind the bar, a waiter, sitting as patrons. We can equip Alexandra with a canister of sleeping gas in per purse, to look like hairspray, and detonate it once she is in the limo with the target. We take out the body guards, and driver, and the target, and bring them all in, with less risk of exposure to the public, and bring in more people."
" Suppose he doesn't invite her home," Madeline asked, " In light of her recent incident, I'm not convinced she will be able to entice Mr. Breinstien."
" She's comfortable around men," Nikita told Madeline, " She's done it practically on her own, pushing herself into situations with men constantly for the last week - she seeks out other recruits to socialize on her free time often."
" She fails, you fail," Operations said, nodding to Nikita, " Go get them."
* * * * *
" What?" Alexandra said, sitting up, and reaching for her bottle of water.
She'd woken up to someone banging on her door, and it opened as she turned on the light, and Nikita walked in, throwing a clean sweat outfit towards her, saying she was needed for a mission now.
" You're joining a team going to Paris. Our target has a taste for young redheads," Nikita told her, " Madelines office, five minutes."
Alexandra scrambled out of bed and got dressed, grabbing a pair of sneakers to put on when she got there. She glanced at her clock it was 4:00 am.
* * * * *
" This will look good on you," Madeline said as she walked in, " Try it on."
Alexandra took the dress that Madeline handed her, and stepped behind the folding oriental patterned screen to change.
It was a dark jade green slip dress, that clung to her curves, practically screaming of sex. It was incredibly short, and incredibly low cut. If she bent over, it would be all over, no doubt about it.
" I won't be able to wear nylons or hide a gun anywhere," Alexandra said, stepping out behind the screen.
Madeline and Nikita looked at her for a few moments.
" No nylons," Nikita said after a moment, " Black strap heels."
Madeline smiled, realizing what was happening. Nikita had stepped into her role.
" Yes," Madeline said after a moment, and pulled a pair off of a rack, " Put these on, and lets see you walk across the room, as if our mark was on the other side.
Alexandra sat down, and put on the heels, and set her gaze on a spot on the far wall, and slowly crossed the room, a sway in her hips, shoulders back, head up, eye's wide open, a slight smile on her face.
" Told you she was ready," Nikita said quietly.
* * * * *
" Sleeping gas, will it spread on it's own to the drivers compartment as well, or do I need to get some up there?" Alexandra said, once they were in the air, on their way to Paris. She accepted the situation without protest, seemingly unconcerned that she would be knocked unconscious. They had to be in the club, tonight by ten PM. Birkoff was briefing Alex and Darren on the entire mission. The last three hours had been an incredible rush. There were cloths to pack for their individual roles. Equipment had to be selected and loaded. A medical team and equipment on board, for the gas victims.
" It's a fast acting gas, you won't have time to do anything, trust me. We'll have oxygen on you in minutes, so you'll be OK, a little nauseated, but OK. I'll detonate it once you are in the limo. He keeps the barrier down between himself and the driver, likes to know what's going on."
Alexandra nodded, and looked over at Darren. It was a simple assignment really. He would be sitting by himself at the bar, they'd have someone at the bar, someone covering the back door, and the front, Michael and Nikita a couple at a near by table. Alexandra would walk in, order a drink, and hang out alone until their mark noticed her.
That evening, Darren was sure she'd be noticed. It was almost indecent, the dress they put her in. Incredibly short, low cut, cling in every spot that would catch a man's attention. Incredibly high heels that were mere straps and heel, and not much else, and a little black purse, with makeup, identification, a little bit of money and a can of hair spray. She had an ear piece inside her ear canal, and transmitters in strap of the dress and in the earring on the other side. Darren had his transmitter in his shirt, as did most of the other men. Nikita had a similar set up as Alexandra.
* * * * *
It was 11:00 by the time their target arrived, flanked by a few 'business associates', and his requisite body guards. The body guards watched the room, but they weren't that good. They drank, too much in Darren's opinion. None of them covered any of the doors. If someone came through the front or back doors, guns blazing, they'd all bed dead in minutes - but it would be a blood bath. Alexandra had been trying to get rid of an overly attentive admirer for the last hour. The guy just didn't take the hint. What amazed Darren the most though, was that he understood everything so clearly. Sure, he'd been taught French, used it all the time, along with several other languages. But he would have expected to have a little trouble, completely surrounded by it. None at all. Birkhoff spoke English in his ear, everyone spoke it back to him and to each other, quietly, through the comm units, but they were surrounded by people who spoke French, and Darren had no trouble understanding it. What Darren did have trouble with was keeping his eye's off Alexandra, and Nikita. It may have been that it only seemed like their target only had body guards at his table.
Alexandra had been keeping a steady, 'I'm bored look' gazing around the club, and finally, their target, was watching her, intently. She met his eye's, saw him watching her, and a lazy smile spread across her lips.
" She's got his attention," Nikita said softly, in English, looking over Michael's shoulder as they danced on the dance floor, " keep looking back over at him every couple of minutes Alex. Wait until he makes some move, and then go over."
Michael turned them, so he could get a view of what was going on, and he wanted to make sure their other recruit was where he was supposed to be. He found him at the bar, talking with a few ladies, but his eye's continuously scanned the room. He locked eye's with Michael for less than a minute, Alex, their other operatives, checking the room, the women, and back again.
" They're doing well," he said to Nikita, looking at her for several long moments.
Nikita shrugged, " I think the training was more for me than them."
Michael kissed her neck, staying in character. The thought had crossed his mind. He looked up, in time to see their target send someone over to Alexandra. The body guard talked to her for a moment, effectively dismissing the eager young man, and their target nodded to her, and she started across the floor slowly. Shoulders back, just enough sway in the hips, head up, a sensual smile on her lips.
" She's in," Michael said, " Birkhoff, send a team to get a 2nd canister in drivers compartment of the car."
Nikita looked up at Michael, and neither one of them said anything. They didn't have to, they both wanted this to succeed, needed it too.
The evening dragged on slowly. Alexandra managed to get herself on their targets lap, get a tracker planted on his shirt. She became tipsy quick, though they knew she really wasn't. She was seductive, enough to ensure she'd be going home with him, but not so much that she came off like a street walker. By 3 am, the party started to move towards the door. Michael left quickly, leaving Nikita to send the others out subtly, one by one, and into the van. She followed their targets party out at a safe distance, and quickly went around the corner of the building, climbing into the van.
" Wait until they are away from the club" Michael instructed Birkhoff, as the van pulled out, to follow their target.
" Turning east . . . there's a freeway coming up Michael, they'll probably take it."
" Detonate the gas," Michael told him, "both canisters. Medical, mark our - approach - and stand by."
* * * * *
Alexandra felt like screaming, but she couldn't, and made sure her target had no idea she found him to be by far, one of the most repulsive men alive. Her skin crawled when she felt his hand, under the bottom of her dress, his finger tips just coming up on the edge of panties, and his mouth was leaving a slime trail on her neck and chest, moving the already daringly low neckline lower.
She heard a pop, followed by another, and the driver yelled, the bodyguards turned in their seats, her target pushed her off his lap and onto the floor, and reached for the door handle, his motions suddenly drunken. Alexandra had been waiting, expecting. She held her breath, covered her mouth with her hand, and grabbed onto his waist band, and yanked back, He fell on her, knocking her breath out, and she inhaled, couldn't help it, and she felt her world start to dim, and they were slammed forward. Her brain barely registered that the car had stopped, and that she heard tires screeching to a halt. Her last thought was that maybe, just maybe, if she inhaled enough, she'd simply die. She took another deep breath . . . and felt blackness overwhelm her.
* * * * *
" Hey there," Nikita said, as Alexandra's eyes opened, and looked around. She still had oxygen going into her nose, and she was covered by a thin blanket.
" Did we?" she asked, and then coughed, hard. She struggled to sit up, feeling like she just couldn't get enough air in. Funny, a little while ago you were hoping to die . . .
" Yes," Nikita answered, and looked over at Darren, who was watching from his seat. Michael had warned him about looking too concerned earlier. He gave a brief nod, relieved that she was awake.
" Our target, his men, are all still strapped down, incredibly nauseated and we're in the air, on our way back to Section. You were great," Nikita told her, " How do you feel?"
" I want to bath in Lysol," Alexandra said softly, " What a tactless slimeball."
Nikita laughed, and saw Michael actually crack a grin as well.
" Do you have to do this often?" Alexandra asked Nikita quietly.
Nikita shrugged, " Often enough - It helps if I separate it into 'this is the job' from this is who I really want - and I take solace in the fact that anything I endure will be nothing compared to what Madeline will do to them."
Alexandra managed a nod, and locked eye's with Darren. He watched her for a moment, somehow getting the message from her gaze that she was OK, and he felt better. What amazed Alexandra that it mattered to him or anyone, at all.
By Kimberly
Email: kcolu97589@aol.com
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