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Date Posted: Wednesday, November 02, 10:32:45pm
Author: Woman In Black
Subject: Re: Friday Challenge: Special Halloween Edition
In reply to: JayBee and Nell 's message, "Friday Challenge: Special Halloween Edition" on Friday, October 21, 05:20:59pm

Michael spoke softly. “Team two, report”

“Nothing, Michael.”

“Team three?”

“In position. No sign of the target.”

Michael glanced at his watch again in annoyance. How long does it take for one arms dealer to eat and drink through Happy Hour and then leave a bar?

It was twilight, now, and there were more and more people driving up and down the narrow street, more people going into restaurants in bars; even the hookers were already, plying their trade. He kept one eye on the front door of The Duck Inn, and appraised the prostitutes with the other.

Too thin. Loud. Bored. They didn’t want to be there anymore than he did, but they needed the money for food, drugs; whatever. Not his problem.

Suddenly, one of the girls broke from the group and started sauntering toward his Mercedes. He’d been compromised.

“Mowen, you and Mentz stay in position. Stillman, I need you to cover the front door. I have an anomaly.”

Birkoff was running tactical from Section. “Michael, do you need back-up?” he asked, concern apparent in his voice. Michael assured Birkoff he could handle the situation.

The hooker moved closer. Michael blinked. She had the same, long-legged stride as Nikita, marred only by the attempt to sway her hipbones more than was natural. The hair, the eyes, all the same. *Get a grip, he told himself firmly. Nikita’s dead. She was killed in the explosion four months ago, or she would have contacted you.* The pilfered PDA still emanated a warm glow from the breast pocket of his jacket.

The smiling blonde stuck her hand through the open window to shake Michael’s. “Hi. I’m Nik,” she said with her painted on smile. Michael felt his stomach lurch as he prepared to look up into the familiar face. “Trick or treat?” she asked saucily.

The mouth was wrong. Thin lipped, not full. They eyes, though the color was amazing similar, were set too close together. And the hair wasn’t quite right. Just a few shades off. Courtesy of Miss Clairol, no doubt.

“No,” replied Michael coldly. “Thank you, but no.” He heard a voice from the tag behind his ear as he rolled up the window so the hooker would not misunderstand his intent. She flashed him a universally known one-fingered salute, and Michael nodded as his heart rate returned to normal.

“Team Two has acquired target,” he heard in Mowen’s voice. Sandwith had gone out the back door.

“Let’s take him in.”

Operations had really wanted this man, William Sandwith, but was trying to avoid a surgical if possible. He would be very pleased, and Michael would receive most of the credit. He could count on at least 48 hours downtime.

Michael mused at the irony. It wasn’t even Halloween, yet “Nik” was the one who would be turning tricks all night, while Michael would be the one to get the treat.

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