Subject:  I Remember Sarah - Chapter 8 Longer |
Author:
Loveroy
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Date Posted: Sunday, August 21, 01:52:26am
In reply to:
Loveroy
's message, "I Remember Sarah - Chapter 7 forward (NT)" on Sunday, August 21, 01:21:17am
The man’s green eyes were filled with unshed tears that threatened to fall in a capricious fashion; it was his wedding day and the tearful reaction was expected and thus delivered by the perfect operative from Section One. His reflection in the full-length mirror as he stood before it just when he was about to walk down the proverbial isle, cast back the image of a man set to take off running. Simone, his one true love, his common law wife and mission leader advised him to focus and Michael did as he was told, butched up and stalked along.
He next stood by the podium in the Judge’s chambers rocking form foot to foot emulating nerves, when in reality the Level 5 was as cool as a cucumber beneath the showy reaction. The Judge had been a jurist before coming to the Section and thus knew exactly what to say and do as he pretended to marry the operative and the terrorist’s daughter. No guests from the groom’s side were in attendance since he was supposedly new to the city and there were no guests from her side either since she considered herself to have no family.
Simple wedding, simple vows and a simple ceremony that left the bride feeling all ecstatic and the groom… well… feeling whatever adjective the fake-wife expected. Michael always the perfect operative fussed over his new bride Elena with such enthusiasm and care than those watching would be inclined to swear the man was in love. But although Michael had loved before, for example Simone, passion was not something Michael shared lightly and maybe had never experienced at all.
The man was reserved and even with Simone, protected his heart against the heartbreak that was an intrinsic reality in S1. He cried despondently as Paul Wolfe, hand lying softly on the younger man’s shoulder, reported on the failed Mission that had taken Simone’s life. Michael was handed the woman’s electronic monitoring device and he could see her vital signs were flat-lining and watched in horror as the system, knowing she was gone from this earthly plane, erased her from the grid. Michael didn’t care who saw him grieve, instead burying his face in his hands, he quietly mourned the lost of his first love.
---
Nikita Wirth Jones watched in sadness the ghostly apparition exposed before her and her heart broke at experiencing Michael’s true loss. The woman at the foot of her bed moments earlier had been Simone obviously bringing Michael’s memories and sorrow for Nikita to learn. But what else had she brought, what was that braid she sadly showed and for what purpose had she, instead of Sarah, come to call?
Nikita noted that this apparition differed from the ones she experience before for the woman looked hurt and silently asked her for help, could this mean she was still alive? A feeling of great fear overtook Nikita when she heard, while she was wide awake, the same sounds of the classical music filing the room where Michael sat wearing mission apparel and holding a hard alcohol drink in his hand.
Michael Samuelle sat alone in the family room of Nikita’s home pondering the situation he was facing and the promise of a deep blood cover mission he was not happy to enter. The Organization had already taken too much from the angry man, including his family, his childhood and his soul and he was not going to allow them to continue their manipulation of his spirit. Of course he had always been aware that the Samuelle family were not his real relations; the honor, much to his chagrin, befell Adrian and George instead. The Samuelles, being the fine people they were, told Michael of his secret and boldly protected the child from the bad world outside, until their death, which devastated the handsome man.
Michael knew what his future was to be from when he turned 15, his father called him to the room he sat in and explained how soon the reality of life would knock him for a loop. Truer words were never spoken, especially by a man with a price tag on his head – let’s face it, the Samuelles could have gone along with the flow, but caught themselves in the midst of a moral dilemma and chose to protect the boy. The family did an outstanding job in bringing up the boy who was the upstanding man the Organization was so proud of for his contribution and his unending loyalty. Now, not being capable of giving him the love he deserved or the freedom he longed for, Adrian, Jones and George gave him Nikita instead, but this was not what Michael longed for.
-----
He felt her before even seeing her, standing quietly by the door; her bed head and disheveled body appealing in a fundamental way. But this was the image of a sister and not of a woman he could share carnal love with. She saw this thought process surround his being and in a spirit of détente he cocked his drunken head and called her to his side by stretching his hand.
She angrily smirked, not happy he thought so little of her that he read in her deportment the want for a lust filled night instead of concern for his state of unhappiness. This was his usual way around her, he never showed her joy, sometimes making her feel he was incapable of being happy. The smell of alcohol offended Nikita, but she was glad it was covering the lingering aroma of the orange blossom of her paranormal experience moments before.
Nikita spoke for the first time in hours, her voice deeper than usual, “The food is in the fridge, I suggest you pop it in the oven instead of the microwave.” With this and without waiting for an answer from the inebriated man, she turned and started to walk away.
Michael was next to her quicker than a hand moves to try to catch a fly, his own carriage unusually gruff, slurring his words with a deeper French accent he spoke to the blonde, “Sit with me, she was here wasn’t she, tell me you saw Simone tonight.”
She almost screamed at him to release her tight grip on her arm, but whispered instead, “Please…”
He misunderstood her request and pulled her closer to his now aching body, “Please Nikita I beg you, we do such terrible things in the name of justice and I need companionship to alleviate my guilt. I am desperate...”
She shut her eyes tightly, afraid that one of her insights into his psyche would interfere with the man’s obvious distress, after all the proud man had begged, “Come to the kitchen with me, tell me what happened tonight Michael.” She pulled him towards the kitchen by the hand he’d offered and he followed obediently.
While he ate, just as unhappily as before he told her of a pretty innocent named Lisa who he valentined in order to get to the murdering husband who physically used her for a punching bag. Nikita listened intently at the horror tale of her surrender to the duplicitous op and the subsequent recruitment of her husband to S1. Then of the man’s expected betrayal of the Organization and how Michael as a last recourse, gave the woman isotropics that would destroy her husband and set her free, but in the meantime turning her into the monster she didn’t deserve to be.
Nikita spoke as she cut his meat into tiny pieces and fed him as though he was Baby Sarah, effect that did not escape the morose man, but did make him smile. “You did the only thing you could have done under the circumstances, otherwise she would have never been really free and would have continued to live in fear of the monster her husband proofed to be.”
Michael smiled a sad smile, “She asked me to braid her hair Nikita, and that reminded me of my time with Simone, did I ever tell you about her?” At this point Nikita was going to share the Simone apparition with him, but decided otherwise seeing how the night had progressed so far.
Michael asked again, “I can smell her perfume, did she appear to you tonight, tell me Nikita what did she want?”
Nikita swallowed deeply and answered rolling her eyes, “She didn’t say Michael…” and then, “could she possibly still be alive?”
Michael sobered up quickly as he stated, “I have always suspected that…why do you ask?”
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