Chapter 3: Courez -- The Beta Board

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Date Posted: 13:45:37 11/02/01 Fri
Author: lafemme
Subject: Chapter 3: Courez
In reply to: lafemme 's message, "Need a beta reader here please" on 13:32:31 11/02/01 Fri

"Michael are you there?"

"Michael?"

"Michael?" The cursor blinked as it waited for a response. None was given. Nathalie broke from her momentary daydream to move closer to Michael. His breathing was shallow and seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Nathalie gently nudged Michael to see if he would move. Nothing happened. She knelt down and picked up the cordless telephone that was on the floor. Nathalie was about to call the police when she heard a sound.

"Please . . . don't . . ." It was the stranger, or rather Michael has Nathalie began to think. He raised his one good hand in a feeble attempt to protest the inevitable problems that calling the authorities would bring. Nathalie looked back at Michael and sighed. Once again, the conflict between logic versus emotions was brewing inside her mind. On the one hand, Nathalie knew that this man had kidnapped her at gunpoint, held her hostage in her own apartment and tied her to off all things her bathtub! Her mind told her to pick up the phone, call the police and get the man out of her life once and for all.

Nathalie's heart told her a different story. It was the complete opposite of what her mind had. When she looked at this man, she saw someone who needed her help. It was true that had had kidnapped her, but Nathalie rationalized that this man simply needed a place to hide. He hadn't hurt her. Oh he'd scared the death out of her, but he hadn't laid a hand on her. Nathalie sighed once more. She was still unsure of what to do at the moment.

Finally, after what must have seemed like an eternity, Nathalie made up her mind or rather decided she would follow her heart. She put the phone on the desk and moved closer to Michael. Kneeling next to him, she placed her hand under his chin and guided his face to hers.

"Do you think you can walk?" she asked.

Michael nodded weakly and attempted to stand. He would have fallen back down again if it weren't for the help of Nathalie. Placing an arm around his waist, she guided her dark stranger, now with the name of Michael, step by step to her bedroom. Once there, she eased him onto the bed. Michael was now sitting on the edge and he didn't look good.

"I'm going to get my first aid kid. It's in the bathroom." Michael nodded his head in agreement. He knew that she could bolt out the door at any moment, but he really had little choice. Michael had to trust this woman, whether he wanted to or not.

"I'm back. Okay, I guess you'd better remove your shirt. Mr. . . ."

"Michael. Call me Michael." Nathalie waited while Michael attempted to remove his shirt. He tried to unfasten the buttons, but it seemed as if every movement cause Michael considerable pain. Nathalie realized what was happening and without asking, she helped Michael finish with the remaining buttons. Once she was done, she slid the shirt off as gently as possible.

The sight of Michael's body both awed and sickened Nathalie. She could tell that this was a person who spent a considerable amount of time keeping in shape. His muscles were taut and smooth throughout his body. He had an almost porcelain like appearance to his skin. This was more in respect to the near perfect condition of his skin, rather than its color.

However, a rather large wound near his lower abdomen marred the beauty of Michael's skin. Nathalie looked closer and realized he had been shot. The blood around the wound had now dried, but it would occasionally ooze fresh blood if Michael moved too much. Nathalie carefully probed the wound, trying not to cause further injury to Michael. Nathalie then frowned. Something wasn't quite right.

Michael could see something was wrong and spoke, "Is there a problem?"

Nathalie hesitated before answering. "I'm not an expert, but when a person is shot, isn't there usually a place where the bullet enters and another where it leaves?"

"Yes," Michael answered, not liking where her questions were leading.

"Well, then I would guess you still have the bullet in you. What do you want me to do?" It was at this point that Nathalie knew she was way out of her league. For some strange reason, she no longer feared Michael, but rather feared for his life. Nathalie was no medical doctor and knew if she tried anything she might cause more harm that good.

Michael also realized the gravity of the situation. He knew this woman was no doctor and yet she was all that he had. Taking in a deep breath, Michael spoke, "Look . . . Miss . . ."

"Nathalie," she replied.

"Nathalie," Michael continued. "You're going to have to remove the bullet."

Nathalie panicked as she backed away from Michael. "No, I can't . . . I might kill you . . . I've never even . . ." Nathalie was clearly nervous about the prospect of playing surgeon.

Michael had neither the time nor the patience to deal with this. "Nathalie, STOP! You can do this. I'll guide you through as best I can. Don't worry. OK?" Michael hoped she would agree since he was becoming weaker by the moment. He looked into her eyes and saw as she nodded her head in agreement.

Michael broke the procedure down into three basic steps: disinfect, remove and clean up. For step number one, Nathalie looked in her first aid kit and found some iodine. She knew it would sting like hell, but it would get the job done. Nathalie eased Michael back onto the bed. She sat down next to him and poured some of the iodine onto a cloth. Having saturated the cloth, Nathalie began to clean around the entry wound. She looked at Michael to see if he was feeling any discomfort, but his face betrayed nothing. It was the small spasms that ran through his chest that gave Michael away.

Step two called for Nathalie to remove the bullet lodged in Michael's abdomen. She found a pair of tongs in her kitchen. Prior to using the iodine, Nathalie had placed the tongs over a candle flame in order to somewhat sterilize them. Michael's last request proved to be the most difficult for Nat. Michael told her to secure his arms and legs so that he would not move during the "operation" and therefore cause more damage. Nathalie reluctantly agreed. Taking some twine she'd found in her kitchen, she secured Michael's legs first. Following that, Nathalie tied Michael's one good hand to the side of the headboard and now all that remained was the other hand. Carefully, she lifted the hand so as not to cause Michael more pain.

Nathalie was ready to work. Before beginning her "operation" as Nathalie had come to think of it, she gave Michael a washcloth and told him to bite down. Now it was time and no matter what Michael did, he could not deny the pain that was to come.

Using the light from above, and a small penlight for added focus, Nathalie probed as best she could, looking for the bullet.

"Damn!" Nathalie muttered to herself. "It's like looking for a needle in a bloody haystack." Just as Nathalie was about to give up hope, she spotted something shiny. Directing the penlight in that direction, she now knew she'd found the bullet.

Nathalie turned to where she had left the tongs. Grabbing them, she started to dig into the wound. She flinched a little when she saw a look of anguish cross Michael's face. As soon as Nathalie was able to grab hold of the bullet, she began to work on extracting it. When it was out, she allowed it to fall to the floor.

Nathalie finished her procedure by placing a pressure bandage over the wound. Michael smiled weakly, indicating she'd done a good job. Nathalie nodded in return as she released his arms and legs. Once that was done, Michael closed his eyes and allowed the darkness, which had been hovering over him before, to claim him. Nathalie watched as Michael slept. He seemed so . . . peaceful.

She was distracted when she heard a noise from her office. Taking a small afghan from a nearby chair, Nathalie placed the cover on Michael's sleeping form. She then proceeded to her office, where she found the computer was still on and the chat room was open. There was no one there, but there was a final message. It read:

Michael, do not return. Operation has issued orders to cancel you. He does not acknowledge your mandatory refusal.

Nathalie wasn't sure what "cancelled" meant, but somehow, she knew she didn't want to know.

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[> Chapter 4: Courez -- lafemme, 13:48:26 11/02/01 Fri

As Michael slept, he dreamed. It all seemed too real once more. He was to meet a contact for Section. The gentleman was only known as Guy. Guy was to provide intel on an upcoming act of terrorism being carried out once more by Helix. It was a simple plan.

It turned out to be a set up. When Michael arrived at the rendezvous point, he remembered seeing the contact dead. The weapon used was identical to Michael's. As Michael left the building, he was ambushed. He'd managed to take out two men before being hit.

His attackers, assuming that they had completed their assignment, did not plan for Michael's incredible strength or Section training. He waited until they were in sight and then he killed both of them, firing a bullet into each one's head.

Having dispatched his would be attackers, Michael sat up and was hit by an instant wave of nausea and pain. It was becoming more intense with each passing moment. It as at this time that . . .

. . . Michael awoke. Slowly, the events of the previous night were coming back to him. There were still moments where he couldn't recall every detail from the past twenty-four hours.

He opened his eyes and attempted to sit upright. Remembering where he was, he immediately scanned the room to see if Nathalie was nearby. Seeing that she wasn't there and fearing that she might have gone, Michael swung his legs over the side of the bed. Another wave of nausea much like the night before overtook him. Just as he was about to stand up, Nathalie entered the room.

"Just where do you think you're going?" she asked, the displeasure showing in her voice. Michael shrugged his shoulders in response and Nathalie simply shook her head.

"You need your rest. I just finished removing a bullet from you and I'll be damned if I'll let you undo my work." Nathalie pushed Michael back against the pillows, forcing him to rest.

"Nathalie . . ." Michael began.

"Shhh . . ." she responded, placing a finger to his lips.

Michael closed his eyes and allowed his body to rest. He needed the time, what little he had, to think and to plan. The first thing that crossed his mind was Nathalie. Michael had not counted on taking a hostage, who actually turned out to be very valuable. This in turn, caused Michael to consider two possibilities. Nathalie was either a plant for Section or she was simply an innocent.

Neither option appealed to Michael. If she were working for Section, he'd have no choice but to eliminate her. If she was an innocent, well that presented a whole new set of problems. At the moment, this whole scenario seemed to be a game to Nathalie. Michael was worried that if things got bad, she might get hurt.

At Section . . .

Madeline and Operations spent much of the morning and most of the afternoon going through the various reports and checking on the progress of current missions. The last thing on their agenda was a matter concerning Michael.

"So, where do we stand on our current situation regarding Michael?" Operations began.

Madeline sipped her tea. "Everything is going as expected. We should be able to bring down Helix in a matter of ten days."

"Wasn't Helix destroyed the last time we encountered them?" Operations asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Most of it. This current branch is an offspring of the main one we eliminated approximately eighteen months ago." Madeline also loved playing mind games with Operations. It helped her to stay focused on the day to day operations of Section.

"Excellent! Will there be any losses?" Operations asked.

"It's difficult to say at this point. We've put everything into play. There is a small anomaly that we should be able to control," Madeline replied.

"Should be?" Operations questioned, his one eyebrow arching slightly in surprise.

"Yes. She will work out perfectly."

"Good."

Both continued to sip their tea.

Michael awoke to the feel of someone's hands touching his chest. Grabbing the offending hand, Michael opened his eyes. Nathalie jerked back in terror.

"I'm sorry . . . I was just changing you bandage. I didn't mean
to . . ."

Once Michael realized what was happening, he released his grip on Nathalie. She in turn stared back into his eyes. Nat broke the momentary pause.

"I just wanted to see if you were ok."

"Better," Michael answered.

"Well, get some rest and I'll check on you in a little bit," Nathalie responded as she rose from the bed.

Michael laid back and closed his eyes. His normal reserve of strength was virtually nonexistent. He knew the only way to recover was to rest. The problem was, he didn't know how much time had to rest.

One problem at a time, Michael reminded himself.

Three hours later, Michael opened his eyes once more, this time feeling much better. He knew he wasn't at his normal strength, but at least he could move if needed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, a slight wave of nausea hitting him. Michael steadied himself and rose from the bed.

Walking to the kitchen, Michael was surprised when he didn't see Nathalie anywhere in the apartment. His Section training immediately took effect. Michael quickly scanned the apartment and could not find Nathalie anywhere. He then noticed a small piece of paper taped to the front door. It read, "Michael, I went to the store. I'll be back in thirty minutes. Please rest. Nathalie."

Taking the paper in hand, Michael found a candle. It was one of those that gave off a fragrant aroma. Still it would do for what Michael had in mind. He placed the note over the candle and watched as the paper caught fire and disintegrated before his eyes. It was better to cover all traces of his existence so that Section would not have any reason to send "housekeeping" over to Nathalie's apartment.

Michael's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. He looked outside and saw that it was a postman with a package for delivery.

"She's not here right now," Michael offered, hoping the man would go away.

"You can sign for it," the postman responded.

Michael hid his irritation with yet another question. "Can't you just leave it on the doorstep?"

"Nope, someone's going to have to sign for it. Come on, I haven't got all day."

Reluctantly Michael opened the door. "Where do I need to sign?" he asked.

"Right here," the postman indicated, point to an "x" on a form. Michael attempted to write a name, but the pen wouldn't work.

"Do you have another one?" he asked.

The postman padded his coat, indicating this pen was his last one. Michael sighed in response. "I'll see if she's got a pen. Wait here."

The postman did not wait. He followed Michael inside. He had a gun. He was about to fire one shot to the back of Michael's head when he was caught off guard by a roundhouse kick to his chest. It came from of all people, Michael.

Michael realized about five seconds ago, that this postman must be from Section. He also knew this guy had to come from abeyance. He would have almost fooled Michael if it had not been for his bright shiny new shoes. Someone in wardrobe would pay for his mistake later.

Focusing his attention back on the attacker Michael now saw that his kick had knocked the gun from his hand. It now lay on the floor between both of them. It was almost like a stalemate. When the attacker went for the gun, Michael responded. The same occurred when Michael attempted to retrieve the weapon for himself.

Just then, both focused their attention as they heard the sound of the door opening. That was all the time that Michael needed. Moving like a cheetah, Michael reached for and grabbed hold of the gun. Before the attacker would react, he found he now had two bullet holes in his throat. He collapsed to the floor instantly.

Michael's small moment of victory was interrupted by Nathalie's voice. She was screaming. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Michael quickly shut the door and grabbed hold of Nathalie.

"Nathalie . . ." he began, trying to calm her.

"OH MY GOD!" she repeated once more.

"Nathalie, please . . ." Michael was actually beginning to lose his patience.

"OH MY GOD!" Nathalie continued repeating.

"NATHALIE!" Michael shouted. She now focused her eyes on Michael and fainted into his arms.

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