| Subject: The Outside Operative 7 |
Author:
Nikita507
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Date Posted: Sunday, June 09, 07:23:52pm
In reply to:
Nikita507
's message, "The Outside Operative" on Thursday, May 23, 11:22:41pm
Michael moved down the hallway carefully with one crutch, watching the surroundings of his third apartment in the city. There were several other operatives in this building and was considered safe enough for an injured operative to be recovering from injury. He would have not followed the rules, but he still wasn’t sure what had happened out there and was shaken by the fact that Jurgen had ran into that building in his place.
Now he had a couple weeks off but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to try to make contact with Nikita or if there was a risk in doing that. He placed the crutch against the wall and opened the door, knowing instantly that something was wrong.
Michael pulled out the gun and there was a snicker as a light flicked on. “Popsicle said that you would do that.”
Michael didn’t put the gun away as he stared at the man who was sitting in the comfortable chair that Michael wanted to sink into to rest. Moreover, the man had his feet up on the ottoman and he was grinning. “Don’t worry…. She told me how to check for bugs and all kinds of other things.”
“Who are you?”
“You’ll officially meet me with Madeline in a day or two… You’ll call me Mick Schtoppel… I have a wild story that is too complicated… but Popsicle wanted me to get a message to you,” Mick spoke as he stood up and sighed. He studied Michael and laughed. “Ah… sorry about that… that’s my nickname for your ladylove from Lyons.”
Michael shoved the gun back and closed the door. “Don’t you dare say anything more.”
“You are scrambled ten ways from here to tomorrow… she walked me thru all the fancy equipment… take a look,” Mick spoke as he flamboyantly waved a hand over towards a table. “She wanted you to know that she didn’t have a choice.”
“What?” Michael inquired and Mick grinned. “She’ll tell you tomorrow…”
Mick started to walk towards the door, but Michael whipped the crutch out to pin the man against the wall. “Now.”
“She wouldn’t tell me the details… but since you are here, you aren’t hurt too much… so make sure that you go shopping tomorrow…” the man blinked his eyes as he touched the crutch. “She didn’t say that you could kill me with a crutch. She warned me of the gun, the hands, the legs… and joked about a blank stare a death…”
Michael glared as he started to lower the gun. Mick straightened his jacket and nodded his head. “Yeah… that look could kill a person.”
“I don’t want you around,” Michael muttered and Mick snorted. “I’m going to be around… I feed intelligence into Section One… and now it’s gotten a lot better due to someone who knows what they are doing… when they aren’t busy shopping because they look like an Amazon supermodel.”
Michael continued to glare and Mick raised his hands. “Don’t go shopping before two tomorrow… someone has to register for classes tomorrow.”
“How did you two communicate?” Walter asked the next morning. Michael rubbed his face and sighed. Walter was going to find this one difficult, but maybe not. The man that Walter knew to be Mick Schtoppel ended up being a lot more than he appeared when he first started to interact with Michael and Walter inside of Section. Of course, Walter had no clue that Mick had stopped by three times before Madeline made the formal introduction, and the first time that Section One knew that Michael had talked to Mick.
“Multiple ways,” Michael spoke as he turned his head. Those first couple weeks, it was hard to admit that Nikita had trained Mick to hide his ways and it was hard to just trust him. Until Michael got to spend the night with Nikita in his arms, even while his leg continued to heal, all because of sleight of hand pulled off because of Mick Schtoppel.
But it should have been a hint that Nikita was not going to stay disconnected. She had started classes to become a nurse but the reason wasn’t because she wanted to be a nurse. It gave her flexibility and skills that could be helpful. Michael couldn’t even think of how many times those skills had come in handy.
But the intent was not for Nikita to be involved.
There was a groan from the bed and Walter jumped. “Michael!”
Michael turned and moved to the bed. This was the first time for Walter to be around, but this had happened before. Michael eased beside Nikita and stroked her hair back. “It’s ok, Kita… I’m here…”
Her head didn’t move this time towards him, but her mouth parted and whispered “Mic…”
Walter was stunned and Michael swallowed hard. It had been about five days since she last spoke like this. He was comforted by the fact that they were happening more and more frequently. “I’m here, Kita… I’m here…”
The room was silent and Walter walked towards Michael. “Should I call a nurse?”
“No,” Michael shook his head slowly from side to side. “They know about this… Amy was here the one time that it happened… some tell me that it isn’t really my name… but others believe… and it happens more…”
“It does? How often does it happen?”
“More than once a week now,“ Michael whispered as he smiled at Nikita. He kissed her forehead. “She is getting better.”
But Walter was deflated. He thought that Michael was going to say that it happened multiple times a day. But more than once a week, that wasn’t often at all. “Just that whisper?”
“My name,” Michael corrected Walter quickly as he cleared his throat. “Mick Schtoppel… he often was the messenger for us in the beginning…”
Walter was still thinking about Nikita’s moan and was confused. “What?”
“Nikita knew Mick…. And she beguiled him to help her… taught him how to break into one of my apartments and taught him how not to try the other apartments,” Michael explained as he tried to take the focus off of Nikita for the moment. He wanted to hold onto the positive, because Walter wasn’t here for the weeks that there was absolutely nothing from Nikita at all. “I’ll have to make contact with him soon…”
“He’s dead,” Walter stated and Michael smirked. “That’s what we wanted everyone to think.”
“Why do I feel like I’m putting together a jigsaw puzzle with no picture and with no border? You are only giving me pieces.”
“You don’t need the whole story, Walter,” Michael chided the older man. “I need you to be here for when she wakes up… because she may not remember any of the stories – and if that is the case, I need to build a new story for us and not look back.”
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