Mind Games
By: Kimberly
Cowritten by: ONE LOBO
Nikita answered the door, and Michael immediately knew she was upset. She let him in , and walked back towards the kitchen.
"You're upset," Michael said gently.
"What the hell were you thinking, sending her out so soon?" Nikita asked him, "I thought the mission was bad enough - but she's living outside - and she's still vulnerable!"
Michael sighed, and thought to himself that there was a time when he didn't have to justify anything to her . . . but things were different now.
"It was a controlled situation, low risk," Michael reminded her.
"It was a night club - she's missing half her memory still. What if she remembered something she wouldn't want to?"
Michael remained calm, "She did, and she handled it well."
Nikita looked over at him, "Handled it or hid it? There is a difference."
Michael reached for her, grasping her arm, and pulling her towards him. Her expression remained defiant, and she jerked her arm out of his grasp. Michael's expression hardened.
"Don't think you can distract me away from this," Nikita warned him.
Michael sighed, "I'm not! You are my wife! If I want to touch you I will!"
"Am I?" Nikita demanded, "Mrs. Deveraux? That is not your last name! We don't even exist Michael!"
Michael was instantly livid. He grabbed her arms and pushed her back up against the refrigerator, "I take my vows very seriously Nikita. No matter what names we use, where we are, or what we are doing! I expect and will take no less from you!"
Nikita's gaze was full of anger and hurt, "You expect? You'll take? Doesn't what I want matter?"
"What am I not giving you Nikita?! When you want me, if it's at all possible - I'm there! Money is never an issue -" Michael snapped at her.
"What about your name Michael?" Nikita demanded.
A phone rang. It was Michael's. Nikita rolled her eyes, jerked away from him again when he let go of her arms and reached for his cell phone, but he didn't answer it right away.
"You know why Nikita. It would be a death sentence for us. I thought that was why we were carrying on this charade of fighting all the time? To protect us," Michael argued, then he answered the cell phone on the 8th ring, "Yes?! . . . . OK."
Nikita stalked across the room, "This is not the way it was supposed to be."
"We were free then Nikita. No one else has had that chance. You chose to come back too," Michael reminded her, "I have to go in."
Nikita's home phone rang. She groaned, and answered it.
Kristie was dreaming again, and the ache inside started to build in anticipation of what she knew was going to come, before she saw who her playmates for the evening were going to be. It was completely dark, and she knew she had something over her eyes. Her arms were tied down over her head, but her
legs were left unbound. Somehow she knew she had on a skirt and T-shirt, but she didn't remember how she got where she was.
She heard the door open and close, and foot steps started towards her.
"Hey!" she said, "Get this blind fold off me, I like to see - and I like to use my hands!"
Someone chuckled, and it sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it.
"Who is that?" she asked.
Then, she felt his hand on her stomach, tracing the flesh between the waist band of her skirt and the hem of her T-shirt with his fingertips. He traced a lazy pattern up her stomach, wide circles, pushing her top up.
She trembled, feeling the finger tips brush the bottom curves of her breasts, then she felt the T-shirt being pulled up higher, and warm breath flowing over her now bare breasts, making her nipples harden into erect sensitive peaks.
"C'mon," she whispered, "Let me see you!"
Another chuckled, but no answer. She still couldn't place the laugh. . .
She felt her left nipple suddenly engulfed in the hot wetness of someone's mouth, their tongue circled and circled around her sensitive peak, sending waves of pleasurable heat to the core of her being. She arched her back, wanting whomever to take more, do more, but then . . .
She felt a hand rest on her thigh, and slide it's way up, until he came to her panties. He rubbed her then, using the texture of her panties to rub her sensitive flesh. Then he slid his fingers inside her panties, and pulled them down and off. He pushed her skirt up high on her hips, and delved between her moist sensitive folds of flesh with his finger, spreading her juices from the source up to her clit. Then, he slid not one, but two fingers inside her, and started to stroke in and out, pressing up against the upper wall of her vaginal canal. His thumb pressed down over her clit, and he started to rub her there too, all the while his fingers were thrusting in and out of her.
Kristie moaned out loud, bending her knees and parting her thighs a little more, to give him better access. The she felt his mouth leave her breast, only to take her other nipple into his mouth, suckling, laving with his tongue, and nipping.
Her whole body felt like it was on fire, the pleasure so intense, it almost hurt. He pulled his fingers out of her then, and she cried out in protest, only to here another chuckle . . .but this one sounded different.
She only had a moment to reflect on the difference though. He pushed her thighs wider apart, and then she felt his tongue tracing up her folds of flesh to her clit, tasting her. 'Oh my god there's two of them,' she realized.
The tongue circling and stroking over her clit started to move down a little, until he came to her entrance, and he started to trust his tongue inside her, his fingers returning to stroke her clit. Kristie moaned out loud arching her hips, wanting more of him.
His tongue worked her flesh furiously, almost in time with the erotic suckling of her breast. She couldn't help herself, and she moaned again, and again.
Then suddenly, she felt herself start to spiral out of control, and her world shattered into thousands of satiated pieces.
But they weren't finished yet.
She felt the mouth and fingers leave her clit, and a second later, something thick and hard was probing her, slowly sliding into her.
He was so thick though, and she felt her body having to stretch to accommodate him, and he pushed deeper and deeper inside her, until the tip of his thick shaft had reached her cervix, and he was as deep as he could go.
That's when she felt another mouth take her other nipple into her mouth.
Was it the same man buried deep inside her now? Or someone else?
She didn't have time to think about it though. Whomever had his cock buried inside her drew back, then pushed back inside her, testing how much she'd take of him. She felt fingers probing her clit again, but she had no idea who's they were. At this point it didn't matter. His thrusts became faster and harder, until she felt hands holding her hips down, holding her down for leverage. Every thrust sent another wave of white hot pleasure deep inside her, threatening to send her over the edge into madness. They must have known, because the sucking on her nipples became more and more insistent, the fingers working her clit became rougher and rougher, the thrusting cock inside her seemed to swell and swell until the fit was almost painful.
Her whole body seemed to contract and convulse at once, waves of ecstasy overtaking her. Then suddenly, she was blinded by light, and as her body started to come down from it's sensual high, her vision started to focus.
Tyler was leaning over her, his hair hanging down on one side. But he wasn't the person still inside of her. She could see all of Tyler, and he was leaning over her from the side.
"Do you think they'll ever forgive you?" Tyler asked her, his voice cruel - his tone telling her he found this to be humorous.
"Who?" Kristie asked weekly, "Untie me, please . . . you know I don't like it this way . . ."
"You certainly liked it when he was thrusting into you!" Tyler said cruelly, "Do you think Nikita and Alex will still be you're friends tomorrow?"
Tyler sat back suddenly, his hair no longer blocking her view. Kristie gasped, to find Michael sitting next to her on the bed, looking sated and content, and Darren kneeling between her spread thighs, his gaze cold, hard . . .
"NO!!!!!!" Kristie screamed.
She sat up, and looked around. It was her apartment. Stephen sprang up out of bed, grabbing his gun, frantically searching the room.
"Where!" Stephen gasped, "What's wrong?"
Kristie was gasping for air, breathing hard, drenched in a cold sweat. She groaned, "Stephen - I had a nightmare . . . relax."
Stephen groaned, and set his gun on the bedside table, "Oh god . . . Ithought someone was attacking us or something . . ."
Just in my dreams, and it wasn't exactly an attack . . .
Kristie suddenly looked over at him, watching him, her expression grim.
"What?" Stephen asked her, "You're looking at me like I did something really bad!"
Kristie took a deep breath, "I'm hoping I'm really awake - and that this isn't more of that crazy dream I was having."
Stephen reached for her, and she flinched when his hands touched her arm. He stopped, "I was just gonna hold you, that's all."
Kristie nodded, and willingly slipped into his arms, feeling like a traitor. Why am I having these dreams?
"You want to talk about it?" Stephen asked her, rubbing her back and she snuggled into his chest.
"No, I don't want to remember it," she told him, but she knew it was going to haunt her for days to come.
Madeline watched the video surveillance that Stephen thought was not hooked up any longer. She'd had another dream. Madeline smiled. The drug that Tyler had been slipping into her food and wine for the last month would continue to work for another couple of nights. Madeline decided that her plan was working, but that it would require at least another month. If Kristie continued to have these intense erotic dreams, she'd continue to question herself and her choices, and her cocky, willful attitude would be destroyed. It was just a matter of time.
Now, Madeline just had to find a way to continue to administer the drug to her, without Kristie discovering it. She could order Stephen to do it, but if he researched the drug, he'd likely discover her plan - and foil it. Michael would find a way around it as well. Nikita, Alex and Darren were out of the question as well.
Alexandra saw Kristie down the hallway, and heard her make an excuse to not go over a sim with Darren. That seemed a little odd to Alexandra. The sim was something Kristie needed to practice - and Darren was almost as good on it as Michael or Nikita. Alexandra waited until Kristie started up the hall towards her, and saw the strawberry blonde woman's eyes meet hers, then look away.
Now that was really weird. Kristie always looked Alexandra right in the eye. It seemed like she was feeling bad about something, or feeling guilty.
"Hey," Alexandra told her, "You look like your not feeling so well."
Kristie glanced over at her friend. It was just a dream, but she felt so guilty.
"I'm fine," Kristie told her.
"Now you sound like Michael. What gives?"
Kristie took a deep breath, "I didn't sleep well, I dreamt a lot."
Alexandra nodded, as if she understood, "I have nightmares . . . I used to wake Darren up, thrashing around, screaming, crying . . . it's amazing the shit he tolerates for me. Sometimes I don't know why. Heck, most of the time I don't know why."
Kristie looked over at her, "It's cause he loves you."
Alexandra nodded, "Yes, he does . . . do you want to talk about it? Your dreams last night?"
"No!" Kristie said firmly, "I just want to forget."
They walked across the main floor, and both of them laid eyes on Tyler, Michael and Madeline, all standing outside of planning. Kristie felt her stomach turn into a knot, and she instantly felt nauseated.
Alexandra must have seen something in her face, because Kristie felt Alex propel her across the floor, towards the hallway that lead to the exit.
"I was gonna get out of here for a few hours - and go someplace peaceful - you want to come with me?" Alexandra asked her.
"Sure," Kristie said, "Just get me out of here."
"Okay, talk to me." Alexandra slowed her pace as they followed the path around the large lake. The ducks swam and dunked themselves in the brisk water as the sun glinted brightly, reflecting wavy patterns on the women's legs.
"What about?" Kristie ran a nervous hand through her hair, carefully keeping her eyes averted from Alex's gaze. Totally rattled, and unsure exactly why, she felt an unbelievable amount of pure guilt, over a damn dream no less. It wasn't like she had done anything wrong, but still, the feeling paced inside her like an animal, threatening to tear it's way out.
"Come on Kristie, I know you better than this. You haven't been yourself for over a week. What's going on? If you can't talk to me about it, how about Darren?"
That name, and Kristie's head snapped around at the same time that her feet stopped firmly. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion.
"What about Darren? What's that comment supposed to mean?"
Alexandra reached out, frighteningly quick, and grabbed Kristie's wrist. Kristie resisted at first, then seeing no malice in Alex's eyes, only concern, allowed herself to be pulled to sit on a small bench under a flowering Bradford pear tree.
"Now, don't try to tell me that reaction is normal for you! Did something happen between you and Darren? Are you fighting, or did he say or do something to you? You have to tell me Kristie, no matter what it was."
Kristie felt the tears spring to the surface, and tried to force them back, breathing deeply. She didn't even know how or where to begin. . .
For two hours, Kristie tiptoed around telling Alex exactly who she had been dreaming about, but she did tell her what was happening in them. At first, Alex seemed almost jealous, envious of someone who could actually enjoy getting sleep, but then she noted the darkened areas under Kristie's normally bright eyes. Her skin looked pallid, her posture slack, almost as if she were trying to hide inside herself. Her tone in describing the events in the dreams was almost clinical, detached, and Alex could see that she was barely holding it together.
"So, you've told me what happens, and how there is almost always more than one man at a time, sometimes as many as three..." Alex saw Kristie flinch and watched her head drop with the memory of the dreams, "but you didn't tell me if you can ever see their faces. Can you ever tell who they are?"
"I can't tell you Alex, I feel so bad, I just want them to stop!"
"Honey, I'm taking you back to my place tonight, and I'll get you something from Medlab to help you get a real night's sleep. I think you just need some rest, and some time alone. I'll tell Madeline that you're sick, just the flu, and with no missions pending, you should be clear for a night off."
"I don't want to be alone Alex, it's worse then, but I would like to stay somewhere other than my place. Are you sure you don't mind, I mean, you just moved back in."
"That's no problem for me, and I'm sure that it'll be even less of a problem for Darren when I tell him that we're having a slumber party tonight. I'll tell Stephen where you'll be, and I'm sure that he'll be there ASAP, if, that is, who you want there with you."
Kristie turned grateful eyes to Alexandra, "Yeah, you got it in one."
"Nightmares?" Darren said, "Kristie? Is this a recent thing?"
Alexandra nodded, "Yeah . . . and I was gonna get something for her, from medlab - but she didn't want to go home alone tonight - so I figured a slumber party was in order. A few pizzas, rent a movie, we can all pass out on my floor. Nice and platonic."
Darren groaned, "Shit . . .platonic . . .OK. For Kristie, I'll give you up for a night."
Alexandra laughed at him, "Gee, you're being so generous! You go hunt down Stephen and invite him, I'm gonna track down Nikita an Michael."
Darren stopped her, "Michael?"
Alexandra shrugged, "He won't come, but I gotta invite him - and don't tell anyone about Kristie's nightmares."
Madeline knew about the sleepover within an hour. She also knew about the sleep aid Alexandra asked for, and knew who it was really for. She made arrangements for the label on the jar to be changed, and the drug that Kristie had unknowingly been taking for the last month was prescribed for her now.
Then Madeline arranged for surveillance on Alexandra's apartment to be sent directly to her as well as into archives. If it was erased - she'd still have a record.
"A sleepover?" Michael repeated, his stoic emotionless tone and gaze spoke volumes to Alexandra. This is juvenile, you're not in high school and why the hell would I go?
"Yeah - it's looking like a slow night - pizza, beer, a couple rented flicks - Kristie, Darren, and Nikita are gonna be there. Stephen's a maybe. Birkhoff's a maybe, Walter has dibs on the sofa."
"That's a rather mixed group," Michael commented. She'd managed to catch him in the hallway, as he was walking to his office. Now, he opened the door and walked in.
"It's a social thing Michael - not group sex. It's the kind of thing people do for fun - you remember fun right? That's where the stress level is low - no one dies, acceptable collateral doesn't exist and Operations isn't threatening to cancel us!" Alexandra teased him.
A hint of a smile seemed to appear on Michael's face - then it disappeared just as quickly. Alexandra had to smile. She considered it an accomplishment when something she said didn't piss Michael off - let alone made him smile.
"I'll stop by if I can," Michael told her.
Alexandra laughed, "Sure you will. See you tomorrow Michael. If you change your mind - grab yourself a pillow - I'm running low."
The directions were easy enough. Alexandra's apartment was located above a warehouse with one other vacant apartment. The warehouse belonged to Section One of course. It was storage for non-sensitive things. Stephen had also heard that Alexandra was also Sections resident photography expert - and that her apartment was pretty much her work studio.
So when he was admitted to the large one room loft style apartment - he'd expected to see photographs. He'd heard what her last apartment had been like. Her walls weren't covered yet - but she'd started to hang photos.
He'd come armed with a half case of beer. Kristie was there, as was Darren, Nikita and Birkhoff and Walter. A stack of video tapes sat waiting in front of the TV. The sofa had been pushed back up against the bed, the chair pushed back against the wall.
"This place is kinda cool," Stephen said, setting the beer on the kitchen table, "Not what I'd have expected, but cool."
Alexandra nodded, "Welcome to Casa de Alex. I think Madeline had been running
low on secure apartments when I got this place - and it suits me."
She pulled out a cold beer from the fridge and handed it to Stephen, "The pizza is on the way."
Kristie grinned up at him, a beer in one hand, sitting cross legged on the floor, "Managed to tear yourself away from your recruits?"
Stephen rolled his eyes. She had no idea that all he'd been able to think about all day long was her. Tonight would be sweet torture. She'd be near - but untouchable.
The pizza arrived, and they sat through the first movie. It was an action thriller - and they argued over the best way the heroes could have approached attacking the bad guys. The next movie a lame attempt at drama - and they were all silently debating on whether or not to suggest taking the current tape out, and starting another one.
But then someone knocked on the door.
Alexandra looked over at Nikita quickly, then the redhead sprang to her feet, and trotted over to the door. She looked through the security peep hole, then opened the door.
It was Michael, with a pillow and blanket under one arm, a plastic bag clutched in one hand, a half rack of beer in the other.
"We'd given up on you," Alexandra said quietly, taking the beer from him.
"I'm crushed," Michael said lightly, his gaze flickering over to Nikita, who sat cross-legged on the floor, along with everyone else.
"What's in the bag?" Nikita asked him.
"I heard this rumor that Alex is a talented blackjack dealer," Michael said, "So I brought six decks of Vegas regulation cards - and chips."
Alexandra snatched the bag out of his hand, like a delighted child who'd just been given her hearts desire.
Michael shrugged out of his coat, for once not feeling odd about having ashoulder holster on and exposed. He shrugged that off too, and set it on the counter top, took a beer from the fridge, and walked over to the group on the floor, and sat down.
"OK, who here doesn't understand the game?" Alexandra asked, already starting to shuffle all six decks together.
"It's 21, how hard can it be?" Birkhoff asked her.
Alexandra looked at him, "Do you know what a split is Birkhoff - or when to double down?"
Birkhoff shook his head, chagrined.
"You will by the end of tonight," Darren commented, "Las Vegas rules?"
Alexandra nodded, and shoved the chips at him, "Give everyone 200 bucks - and
the rest will be dealer bank."
"What are Las Vegas rules?" Nikita asked, her gaze traveling around the room to everyone's faces, and then coming to rest on Michael's.
It was Walter that answered, "Dealer hits soft on 17, hits through 16. Insurance is even money on a blackjack - half your bet otherwise. Splits and double downs are OK. Aces are 1 or 11."
Alexandra finished shuffling, and started to deal the cards. It became obvious quickly who played by a certain set of rules, and who had never played before. Michael coached Nikita, Kristie coached Stephen, Darren and Walter tried to coach Birkhoff. Playful insults were traded back and forth, many beers were drank down. Hours later, Michael and Darren were determined to clean Alexandra out, and she was fighting them off as best she could, without cheating. Kristie and Nikita were rooting for Alexandra, and sticking to steady playing. Everyone else was rooting for Michael and Darren. It was in the wee hours of the morning that they all finally passed out, chips scattered on the floor, an lone slice of pizza sitting on the coffee table, and six decks of cards still sat stacked next to the pizza box.
It was in those wee hours, that Kristie had another dream.
"Tie her hands tight, otherwise, she'll get away!"
It was Darren's voice that Kristie heard. But it was dark, and she was gagged, so she couldn't call out, or beg him to stop. She knew what was coming. Her body craved it, her mind detested it. But it was a dream. Her body would win out . . .
She felt someone dragging her forward on her hands and knees, tying her hands down, separately, to the floor.
"How is it that you like it again? Quick and fast?"
That was Michael's voice. Kristie whimpered. Dear god, not again. Nikita and Alex would be so betrayed, so hurt . . . why were they doing this? She knew that both Michael and Darren were loyal to a fault - as much as Section allowed them to be. But this was a dream.
But that didn't alleviate the guilt that Kristie felt, or the tingling sensations of pleasure that were creeping up her spine.
She felt someone shoving her skirt up, and yanking her panties down. Kristie fought herself not to moan in pleasure. His hands were just slightly roughened. They felt good against her tender flesh. Unable to help herself, she arched her back, presenting a little easier access to the person behind her.
His fingers parted her, and she felt the hot wet feel of a tongue start to explore her most tender folds of flesh. She couldn't help herself, and she moaned in pleasure, liquid heat started to build deep inside her. Then she felt someone tugging at her blouse, unbuttoning it. Kristie waited, pressing down, searching for the feel of man's hand to cup her breasts, or a warm mouth to suckle her.
It was a mouth.
His tongue was wet and firm, tracing circles around her now erect and very sensitive nipples. That was something Stephen had done to her, the other night. . . Christ! Was there three of them?!
Waves of exquisite pleasure rippled through her, and she felt someone's fingers sliding into her as his tongue continued to stroke the sensitive flesh between her thighs, and another talented tongue continued to work one nipple, then another one.
Just when Kristie wasn't sure she could take any more, she felt someone tugging on her gag. It came loose. Now she could scream, tell them she wanted them to stop, this wasn't right, she didn't want to do this . . .
But it felt so good. She felt someone grasp her chin, and something probed her lips.
"Open your mouth," someone ordered. It was Darren's voice.
Kristie clamped it shut, trying to keep some semblance of control. The hand that held her chin so gently wasn't so gentle anymore. He pressed hard at the back of her jaw, forcing her lower jaw open. He shoved himself inside her mouth, moaning loudly, and swore in Spanish. Kristie almost gagged, but found herself encircling him with her tongue, enjoying the feeling of him firm and hard. If he was gonna force her to do this, she was going to get control the only way she could. She suckled hard, and nipped at the tip, then sank down onto him again. She felt his hand knot in her hair, "Easy!" he ordered.
The mouth left the aching sensitive place between her thighs, "What's she doing?" Michael's voice asked.
"Somebody wants to play rough," Darren's voice said.
The suckling on her nipple became more insistent as if in response
"Rough?" Michael said chuckling, "I'll give her rough."
She felt the tip of his cock seek out her opening, and he thrust inside her deeply, grabbing her hips for leverage. Kristie moaned, in spite of herself. God he felt sssooo good.
"I'll just get myself a little wet here . . ." It was Michael's voice. Kristie felt her body start to clench around him, her orgasm taking over and making her body shudder and betray her.
Michael pulled out of her, and she felt him draw his still hard and now very lubricated cock up between her buttocks.
Kristie knew immediately what he was gonna do. She gagged, trying to force Darren out of her mouth, biting him hard. He hissed, and yanked her hair, and pulled back from her. It was all Kristie needed, and she turned her face away from him, despite the grip he hand on her hair.
"NO! STOP!!!" She screamed.
"Kristie!" Nikita yelled, kneeling over her, shaking her.
Kristie's eyes snapped open. Her face was wet, from her own tears. She looked around, lost, bewildered. Alexandra's apartment. Stephen and Darren were peering at her from the other side, concern etched on their faces. Kristie cringed back, "I . . . It was a dream - a nightmare . . . I'm sorry I woke you up. . ."
Alexandra was sitting up, and her gaze traveled over to Darren, her eyes locking with his. She'd seen Kristie just cringe back from him and Stephen, and she suddenly knew why Kristie didn't want to give her any names of the dreams participants. Darren looked confused, and looked at Stephen, thinking it must be him that Kristie was cringing from.
Walter appeared with a glass of water, "You okay Wild Thing?"
Kristie squeezed her eyes shut. No I'm not okay . . .
"I am now . . . I'm sorry guys," she said, her voice revealing how miserable she felt.
"Kristie?" Stephen said, "You want to borrow Kristie?"
What Michael wanted to do was knock Stephen flat on his ass and just tell him he was taking Kristie for this mission.
"Yes," Michael said, "Nikita has Alex right now - and I need an attractive woman who is also good on an assault team."
Stephen nodded, "Yeah . . . sure I guess. You do know she's not exactly at 100 lately - and I'm not in the habit of tossing my material to the wolves when they have a few rough weeks."
Michael nodded, "Nor am I."
"What kind of bait is she gonna be?" Stephen asked Michael.
"She just has to get his attention, lure him out of the club. The target was green listed until a few days ago. He won't recognize her," Michael answered.
He knew what Stephen was really asking. Does she have to sleep with the guy - cause I don't Think she's ready to do that yet . . .
Kristie frowned when she saw Darren and Michael walk into the briefing room. She hardly ever worked with them. She was essentially Steven's material.
"You've been borrowed," Darren answered her unspoken question, leaning over to talk in her ear quietly, "Your new name is 'bait'."
Kristie rolled her eyes, "Do all the women here get treated like pieces of meat?"
"Just half the time," Darren told her, "Relax - you're good on an assault too - which is why Michael asked for you."
Kristie nodded, "I was beginning to wonder. Alex tells me this gets easier - but I still see her hating it."
Darren nodded, and squeezed her hand under the table.
Operations chose that moment to walk in. He picked up the remote, pointed it and hit a button.
"Nariff Hassan," Operations began, "This is where the money originates from. He buys up weapons, and recently, the main ingredient to an airborne, extremely toxic chemical weapon. We don't know who he's working for, and he's been on our green list for some time. However, the information is no longer flowing, and he's become extremely hard to track. He's been delisted. We want him brought in alive for questioning."
Madeline, who had been sitting on the far end of the table, spoke up. "He frequents a club in Amsterdam. He meets contacts there often. He also picks up women there often. Kristie will go in separately from Michael and Darren, and get his attention. He'll try to take you back to his hotel with him. Agree. His limousine will be taken between the club and the hotel. He generally has two body guards with him. They will be in the front seat of the limousine - since Kristie will be in the back with him. Teams two and three will be stationed at the points illustrated on the holo - outside the club . . ."
Madeline went on to explain how four cars would box in and take the limousine. Both drivers were collateral.
The briefing was dismissed, and Kristie headed up to wardrobe to get her outfit for the club. She picked out a shimmery top and skirt outfit in royal blue, and strappy high heals. She wouldn't be able to take a gun with her, hence the reason for Michael and Darren to be in the club. Darren may not be a face that Nariff would recognize, but Michael's certainly was. Therefore, Michael would remain in the Shadows, and if he and Nariff met up - Michael would be working someone else - a woman he'd pick at random in the club, as would Darren.
Next, she headed down to Walter station to pick up her gear. A spot comm unit that sat just behind her ear. Darren checked out two additional magazines and a comm unit as well.
"I'd give anything to go on a full out, shoot all the bad guys, assault," Kristie told Darren.
Darren grinned, "I bet. If it makes you feel any better - I found out that I'm slated to be the bait for this woman Section wants in about a week. She has a taste for Latino men apparently."
Kristie laughed, "That's not the only thing that makes you attractive you know."
Darren stopped, a surprised smile on his face, "Thanks Kristie."
She watched him slide a magazine in, and chamber a round, stash his additional magazines. Kristie really wished she had a gun on her or something . . .
"I feel . . . underdressed somehow. I'm used to carrying," Kristie commented.
Walter had just handed Darren two more magazines. Darren hiked up his pant leg, and pulled out a another gun, "Hey - if anything were to go wrong, I'd be on your in seconds - I'll give you this if
you need it."
Kristie nodded. She suddenly realized that she'd never before felt so . . .uneasy. It wasn't a gut feeling, she just suddenly doubted herself somehow, and that was a rare thing for her.
"I know you'd be right there, Johnny-on-the-spot," Kristie told him.
"Hey, wild thing," Walter said, "I got a toy for ya."
Kristie turned to look. Walter handed her a can of hairspray, and a ring.
"The hairspray is really nerve gas. The recipient will pass out, and lose muscle control for about 12 hours. It's nasty stuff - so don't accidentally spray yourself if you use it. Turn away, and cover your nose and mouth fast,"
Walter told her, "The ring, if you press here - tells Michael and Darren you're in trouble - and that you can't talk. It also acts as a tracker."
Kristie nodded, and put the small canister with a popular hair spray brand label on it into her small purse, and slid the ring onto her finger.
The club in Amsterdam was seething with humanity. It was a popular nightlife spot, huge and always very, very crowded. A good place to blend in.
Kristie made the rounds of the club for the fourth time, sent three would-be suitors on their way. She knew where Michael was - hiding in the shadows. Darren was a little closer, but not much. She talked with him off and on as they watched and waited.
"I hope this guy isn't gonna be a no show - I'd hate to think I've tortured myself in these shoes for nothing," Kristie commented.
"Alex wears these thigh high boots with block heels for just that reason," Darren told her, "But they'd look wrong with your outfit."
Kristie laughed, "A guy who knows how to dress. Did you learn this recently or in a past life?"
"Past life," Darren replied, "Madeline hates dressing me. I argue with her."
Kristie laughed, "I would love to see that."
She let her gaze sweep the room, an felt someone move in behind her. She turned quickly, having just enough time to register that it was her target.
She felt the muzzle of a gun jam into her side, and he put his finger across her lips, telling her to be silent. Then he reached up, and grazed his nails along her skin behind her ear, finding and removing her comm unit. He showed it to her, and dropped it into the glass of water he held.
Darren heard some static on his comm unit, then it was gone.
"Birkhoff," Michael asked calmly.
"Michael - Kristie's just activated her panic tracker - I'm filtering to get audio now - she's moving towards the back of the club now - I can't tell how many are with her."
Darren sprang up from his chair, moving quickly through the crowd. Hiding wasn't a concern anymore. The mission was blown.
"How close am I?" Michael asked, starting to move.
"Almost 15 feet," Birkhoff said, "Darren, you're at 20."
There was a crackle and they had audio.
"How many are there?" Nariff snapped at her.
"Fuck you," she snarled back.
"Listen bitch!" Nariff growled in her ear, jamming the gun muzzle into her side painfully again, "I can make this easy or difficult. Do you want to get out of here alive?"
"What are you, stupid? I'm dead either way," she snarled back at him, "Do you think we're dumb enough to not be watching the doors? Especially the back doors?"
Narriff dug hid fingers into her arm painfully, "They didn't see me come in . . ."
Kristie spied an exposed cord in front of her, on the floor. She could trip over it, break his grasp - without it being obvious.
"I've got one of them now - they're probably watching the doors - I'll take her out through the service elevator below," Narriff said to the air around them.
He's got back up. . . Kristie thought to herself
"So you were expecting us huh?" Kristie said.
"Sections not as secure as they think they are," Nariff shoved her forward again.
"I've got them," Darren said, "Michael - they're almost at the kitchen, we're gonna lose her!"
"Teams two, proceed to the back alley - anticipate hostiles," Michael ordered.
Silence . . . .
"Team two," Michael said, "Acknowledge."
Silence.
"Michael," Birkhoff's voice came over," Their comm units are blinking off, all of them!"
"We've been exposed," Michael said, "Abort."
Darren shoved someone aside, and heard gunfire erupt abruptly. He dove through the kitchen doors. Kristie and her abductor were just reaching the elevator. Darren sighted up the targets shoulder and fired. Kristie jerked away, and Nariff was spun around from the force of the bullet. Kristie kicked at his gun hand, knocking the gun from his hands.
Darren was there in the next instant, slamming Nariff into the elevator, and jamming his own gun into the back of Nariff's head. Kristie grabbed up a cloth napkin just as she jumped in with them, shoved the napkin into Nariff's mouth, and hit the button for two floors up.
"He's got comm gear on," Kristie told Darren.
"We've got shooters in the club, we've been exposed. Shed your gear," Darren told her.
Kristie pulled off the ring, and dropped it on the floor, and went for Darren's comm unit behind his ear, and tossed that as well. She started to search Nariff, and found a wire under his clothes and a receiver in his ear. Both of these were yanked off, and tossed on the floor.
They staggered out into offices that were empty at this time of night. Kristie grabbed up a role of clear tape, and used several feet to wrap around Nariff's head, holding the napkin in.
"Phone cord - we'll tie his wrists," Darren told her.
Kristie yanked a cord from the wall and the phone, and tied off Nariff's wrists, ignoring his muffled cry of pain.
"We can use that elevator there - they were expecting us to go down," Kristie told him, "They're waiting below the club level."
"We're exposed no matter what," Darren muttered, "Damn! Damn! Damn!"
He reached down, and yanked out his ankle holstered gun, and handed it to her, with the extra magazine.
"Where's Michael?" Kristie asked him.
"I have no idea," Darren told her, "Probably looking for us. He ordered everyone to abort."
They'd dragged Nariff into the elevator, and hit the button for the club level again. Darren held Nariff in front of him as the elevator door opened up . . . to total chaos.
Kristie and Darren shoved their prize out the door ahead of them, and moved with the flood of people out through the back doors.
"Michael!" Kristie screamed, spotting him by the other elevator, dropping a body to the floor.
Michael turned, and started towards them. All four of them raced with the rest of the crazed club goers through the parking lot. At the end of the parking lot, Michael shot out a window on a car. Darren shoved their prize into the back seat, Kristie got into the front passenger seat, and Michael started yanking wires to hot-wire the car.
"Did you shed your comm gear?" Michael asked them.
"Yes," Kristie replied, "We've got hostiles searching the lot Michael!"
Darren turned to look in the direction Kristie was. Five men with guns moving through the cars, looking for them.
The engine roared to life, and Michael slammed the car into gear, and tore out of the parking lot. Gunshots rang out, the back window spider-webbed. Darren swore and ducked, shoving Nariff down. Kristie let out a shrieking curse, twisting in her seat to duck. Michael pressed the gas pedal to the floor, launching into traffic. He swerved, cut to one side then the other, driving a frantic maze through the city in an effort to lose the predators . . .
Three hours later, outside the city . . .
They'd found an old abandoned barn outside the city in the country side. The doors were wide enough to drive the car into. The all seemed to hold their breath listening to the sounds of the night once the car engine was off.Waiting, hoping . . .
Michael got out, and yanked the car door open, and grabbed Nariff by his bound wrists. Darren jumped out of the car next. Kristie took a little more leisurely pace, and stopped to watch as Michael slammed Nariff, still bound into the side of the car.
"Get the gag off his mouth," Michael ordered.
Darren produced a knife from the ankle holster, cut the tape holding the napkin in Nariff's mouth, yanked the napkin out and tossed it on the hood of the car.
Michael stood their calmly, "How did you know we were there."
"Fuck you," Nariff spat at him.
Michael looked at Darren. Darren sighed, and drew back his fist, and slamming it with every ounce of strength he had into Nariff's gut. Once, twice, a third time.
"Care to rethink your answer?" Michael asked calmly.
"Go to hell! I'm green listed! You can't do this to me!" Nariff spat out.
"You were green listed," Michael corrected, calmly pushing Darren aside. He pulled Narriff back from the car a little, turned him around, and then slammed his face into the door frame three times.
Blood sprayed from his mouth. Kristie backed away from the car, and walked around it, and over to the far end of the barn. The last think she wanted was to get some loser's blood on the dress. She might want to wear it again some day . . .
"He's not going to break," Michael said after a few minutes, "Not this way."
"Do you have a cell with you?" Kristie asked from across the barn, "It's gonna be daylight soon - if Section is gonna retrieve us . . ."
"We're on mandatory refusal," Michael replied calmly, "We don't contact Section at all. We'll arrange our own return."
Kristie knew what mandatory refusal entailed. At least they had their target . . .
She yawned, "So do we stand watch in shifts?"
"I'll take the first four," Michael answered her.
Kristie nodded, and looked around the barn for a place to lay down. She had two choices. A car full of broken glass - or the hay.
She kicked up the hay, making sure nothing nasty was hiding in it, and settled down. Reaching into the small handbag, she felt for the pills. Her fingers closed on one, and she quickly dry-swallowed it. She was too damn tired to look for any water to help it down. Now, if she could only sleep peacefully, the smell of hay comforting her, taking her back . . .it was almost like home. Home from another lifetime.
"Mandatory refusal?" Alexandra said, her voice almost a whisper, and she looked over at Nikita.
"What happened?" Nikita asked Birkhoff.
The young computer genius looked like he'd been awake for two weeks, not just 24 hours. The stress and strain of the current situation was telling on him.
"I don't know," Birkhoff said, "All of a sudden, we lost Kristie's comm unit, her panic alarm went off, I got audio back on her just in time to hear Nariff telling someone to look for Section watching the doors. The backup team suddenly started to disappear. The last thing I heard was Michael telling everyone to abort, and Darren telling Kristie so shed her gear. They had the target. Housekeeping found the bodies of most of the back up team, but not Michael, Darren or Kristie."
Stephen walked onto the main floor at that moment, obviously totally oblivious to what had been going on. Alexandra bit her lip, "Who's gonna tell him?"
Nikita looked over her shoulder, and spied Jonathan leaving his office, walking right for her and Alexandra.
"Stephen is about to be the least of your concerns," Nikita told Alexandra quietly.
Alexandra turned and looked, "Damn . . . I guess I don't have enough time to go hide in one of Walter's storage bins."
A frown was forming on Stephen's face as he approached them. He knew something was wrong.
"What's the status of the Amsterdam mission?" Stephen asked.
Nikita took a deep breath, "They're on mandatory refusal. They had the target, but the back up team was lost. Housekeeping reports that Michael, Kristie and Darren were not at the scene when the arrived."
Stephen's gaze remained calm. He'd noticed the unfamiliar blond man walking up towards them at the same time as Alexandra.
"Kristie was your material Stephen?" Jonathan asked, reaching for his arm.
Alexandra suddenly lashed out, and grabbed Jonathan's hand, squeezing it tightly, "Jonathan, I know you've must have just come back from your . . . assignment, have you been properly introduced to Stephen?"
Stephen was shocked at the normally amiable red heads suddenly rude behavior.
Her temper was obviously high. Nikita was suddenly tense, Birkhoff looked like he wanted to climb under the table.
"I'm sure Stephen knows who I am, release my hand," Jonathan said, his voice calm.
"Stephen, this is Jonathan - a psych profiler like Madeline - and he has one other special talent. He's a touch empathist. When he touches you, he can feel your emotions," Alexandra said with a forced cheerfulness, "I'm sure he just forgot to tell you."
Alexandra dropped Jonathan's hand.
Stephen drew in a deep breath, "Nice to meet you Jonathan," but Stephen didn't extend his hand to shake.
"I had just assumed my talents were common knowledge," Jonathan said, "My apologies - I had no intention of being deceitful."
Alexandra crossed her arms over her chest, "Were you looking for someone specific Jonathan?"
"You," Jonathan replied, "I understand Darren is also missing. You're obviously emotional."
"Nope, just wary from past experience," Alexandra replied, " if I want to talk, I'll find you."
A forced smile spread across Jonathan's lips, "I'll be at your disposal then."
Jonathan turned and walked away.
Alexandra looked at Nikita, "When the hell did he get back?"
Nikita glanced up at Operations glass observation deck. It was dark.
"Just today apparently," Nikita replied, "watch yourself with him Alex."
"What is the deal with you and that guy?" Stephen asked abruptly.
Alexandra looked at Stephen, "He doesn't understand the word NO, and he's like a damn starved leach for emotions. I'd thought that Section had gotten rid of him."
Nikita sent her a warning look. Alexandra caught it.
"You'll call me if things change?" Alexandra asked her.
Nikita nodded.
Alexandra turned on her heel, and strode for the hallway that lead to the exit.
"I thought Alex had a good reign on her temper," Stephen said quietly.
"Normally she does," Nikita told him, "Jonathan is not her favorite person."
Stephen knew there was more going on than what they were telling him. But Alex wasn't his material. He let it go.
Darren sat up, hearing Kristie cry out in her sleep. She begged someone to stop. Michael looked over, frowning. Darren had gone to sleep in the hay next to Kristie. He leaned over her, and shook her shoulder.
"Kristie!" He called, "Kristie!"
Her eyes flew open, and she swung a fist at him violently, knocking him back, "NO! What part of NO don't you understand!"
Darren sat up again, raising his hand to defend himself, and he yelled back at her, "Kristie! It's me! Darren!"
She blinked, taking in her surroundings. She was still dressed, Darren was still dressed, they hadn't tied her down to stakes in the barn . . . .
Michael walked over, squatting down in front of her, but at a safe distance just the same, Kristie, that's the third nightmare I've been there for, and I know there have been others."
"Your right, as usual. There have been others, and if they don't stop soon..." Kristie leaned forward cradling her head in her hands, exhaustion plain in her blue eyes.
"You have to tell us. You know that we'd never do anything to hurt you intentionally, it's safe to talk to us. Tell me what you can remember, when the nightmares started, what happens in them, anything that may help us to get to the bottom of this." Michael reached up tentatively as he spoke, as if reaching out to a wild animal instead of a woman. Kristie flinched away from his hand involuntarily, and she found herself immediately regretting her inability to control her body's reaction.
Michael's eyes flew wide, "Oh God, it's me, I'm in those nightmares. You have to tell me Kristie, what's happened? What have they done to you?"
"They? Michael, what are you saying? Do you know that someone's done something to her?" Darren's eyes suddenly ablaze, anger flashing in their dark depths.
"No...please don't fight y'all. I need you both to listen to me, this is going to be hard enough to talk about without having to referee." She implored them with a tired voice.
"She's right, let's just see what she knows, but you should know by now who I suspect anytime something happens to one of us." Michael met Darren's eyes with his practiced blank stare, visions of auburn hair, dark brown eyes, and a malicious little smile filling his mind . . .
For the next hour, Kristie told them all she could recall, every episode, every participant in each one, every action that was performed . . . blushing furiously as she recited the last. Michael and Darren could not hide the surprise they felt at her admissions, and at least Darren was left, mouth agape, for most of the conversation. Michael let her settle for a few moments after she finished talking, and Darren was incapable of asking her anything at all. He was still sitting, stunned and silent, contemplating the emotional toll that this must have taken on Kristie to keep it to herself.
"Do you remember being injected with anything?" Michael watched Kristie as she searched her memory.
"No, I think I'd remember that. I just don't understand Michael. All I know is how dirty I felt, especially around Alex and Nikita. I felt as if I'd betrayed both of them." Kristie's head hung slightly down and her shoulders dropped a notch as she spoke.
"You didn't do anything. They were dreams that you couldn't control, and you have no reason to feel guilty. And, there is something behind this, we just have to find what it is . . ." Michael quieted, lost in contemplation.
"Pills..." Darren nearly whispered it.
"Oh, wait," searching her memories,"... yes Darren! I told Alex that I hadn't been sleeping well, and she told me that she'd get me something from Medlab to help me out. I took one the night of the sleepover, and I think everyone remembers how that went. But, Alexandra would never . . ."
"No, she wouldn't. But someone else could have gotten wind of her plan to get you something and gotten to that bottle first. They have been developing some pretty powerful shit in there, if the gossip mill holds any truth." Darren pointed out.
"Exactly what I was thinking. And I agree about Rouge, she's not one of 'them', as Nikita would say." Michael mused, thinking how he wondered about himself most of the time. Where did he stand, and how did Nikita put up with trying to decide who's side he was on?
"Do you have them with you Kris?" Darren asked quietly. His use of a nickname brought a slight smile to her lips, hearing a name from another lifetime that she could never go back to forced some nostalgia into her mind.
"What's the smile for? Whatever caused that needs to be done more often." Michael stifled a smile of his own, brought on by Kristie's infectious laugh that now reached his ears.
"That's a story for another time, I think. One mystery at a time. And, yes, I think I do have a couple of them with me. Being so wiped out when I lay down, I'm surprised I remembered to take one at all."
"You took one last night? When???" Darren couldn't believe that he had missed that. They were supposed to watch out for one another, and he had missed something that should have concerned him right away.
"When you and Michael were flipping for who had the first shift on watch, and I was getting the makeshift crash-pad ready over here," she said, gesturing to the hay that they now all sat upon, "I took one real quick to help me sleep, ha ha."
"I can get in touch with Birkoff and get one of them analyzed." Michael palmed the pill that Kristie had just handed him.
"But, we're in mandatory refusal, how are you going to..." Kristie started, then smiled again, "what am I saying? You're like fucking Houdini or something. The great Michael, you can do anything can't you?"
'You can do anything, can't you? But be with me.' Kita's words echoed in his head, the deja vu washing over him. If only they had more time together to make more good memories . . .
Michael called in a favor and arranged for a private charter flight back to the same airport near Section One. Their 'prize' - Nariff, spent the duration of the trip bound and gagged. The man who owed Michael the favor didn't ask any questions, and didn't spend a lot of time looking at Nariff. He just flew the plane.
Kristie sat with her knee's bent, and up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her bare legs. She'd ditched the shredded nylons sometime yesterday afternoon. She looked up a little as Darren came towards her with a blanket, and forced herself not to cringe back. The real Darren would never do those things . . .
He laid the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it around her, and sat down across from her. He'd long since shed his tie - it was stuffed in the pocket for the blazer he'd tossed onto another seat.
"I am really looking forward to a nice hot shower," Darren said quietly, "I forgot what sleeping in hay was like."
Kristie looked up at him, "I thought you were a city kid."
"I lived most of my life in Chicago, but I had grandparents who lived out in the country, father south in Illinois - in Alton. They had a ranch - and I'd go there over the summers when I was little. My grandfather passed on when I was a teenager, and my grandmother passed on a few months later. She just couldn't face life without him," Darren told her, "My fathers parents - my grand father was more of a father to me than my own father was."
Kristie nodded, "I had - have a great dad - he thinks I'm dead of course -but he's a great dad. I lived and grew up in North Carolina, near Greensboro. I think I spent more time sleeping in hay during the summer than I did in a bed - but when I was a kid, I didn't might the dust."
Darren grinned, "I love the smell of hay . . . hay, horses, fresh milk . . ."
"Ever milk a cow?" Kristie asked him.
"Yeah," Darren said, "If I wanted milk for breakfast, I had to milk to the cow. Even if I didn't want milk for breakfast, I had to milk the cows. And gather the eggs - God I hated gathering eggs. Damn hens would peck at me, no matter what I did. At first I felt guilty - puked my guts up first time I cracked open an egg in a frying pan and found a blood spot too."
Kristie laughed, "I never would have pegged you as the type to gather eggs, or milk cows!"
Darren laughed with her, "Well, Like I said, it was the summers, and when I was a kid. Gramps passed on, and that was it. No more farm, no more country. It was street corners from there on out - and you never find cows or chickens on Chicago street corners."
"My father raised cattle," Kristie told him, "I hated to milk the cows . . ."
Operations looked over at Madeline. She was watching the threesome down on the main floor, go their separate ways, alone.
"I'm surprised we didn't see Nikita or Alex waiting for them," Operations commented.
Madeline nodded slowly, thinking about all the arguments.
"They've been fighting lately, all of them. They're all suspicious of the other persons actions while they were separated. I see Alex and Darren being reasonably polite for a while, then they argue again. Michael and Nikita seem to tolerate each other," Madeline told him, and her voice took on a hard edge, "We're going to see the fallout from your mistake for a long time. I don't know if any of them will ever be the same."
Operations drew in an indignant breath, even though he knew it was a waste of time. Madeline's disapproval didn't stop him from arguing his point though.
"Relationships are a weakness," Operations bit out.
Madeline looked over at him again, "In most cases - but we had two almost unbeatable pairs - now we have four operatives who are good - but not as good as they were. They almost lost Nariff."
"Try selling that drivel to George sometime. It's better this way," Operations informed her, and turned away from the glass, and started towards the door.
"I did sell it to George. The data speaks for itself. I have orders to 'repair' the situation, as best I can," Madeline said sharply, "and I'll remind you how much of a weakness relationships are - the next time you need someone to warm your bed."
Continue on to Madelines gift