| Subject: chapter 7 (repost) |
Author:
s.b.
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Date Posted: Sunday, September 19, 09:46:12pm
In reply to:
s.b.
's message, "The Progeny of Four" on Sunday, September 19, 09:33:38pm
Chapter 7:
There were too many unanswered questions. Michael had spent a significant part of his afternoon looking for the answers but with little success. Now Davenport’s team was minutes away and Madeline had summoned him to egress. She smiled a greeting to him, one which he responded to with a slight nod of his head before taking a stand beside her.
“I trust you found everything you needed on the Wirth file?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.” He hadn’t of course, and she knew that just as well as he.
The display above the van access doors announced the arrival of the team. Michael clasped his hands loosely in front and waited. His outer calm belied the smidgeon of anxiety he felt. In a few minutes he would see someone he’d thought long dead. Her sudden reappearance was triggering more than a few internal warning flags. Section was up to something, of that he was sure.
Nikita had been his first trainee in Section and he was curious to see how she had turned out: Would she remember him or any of the things he’d taught her? Granted he hadn’t been the best trainer at the time, there were things that time and experience had helped him improve as a trainer over the years. But still he was curious to see if she had been able to retain any of that initial training. He could understand why Section and Oversight would be interested as well.
**
The access doors opened to reveal the back of a black-clad operative as he worked with another operative to maneuver the gurney from the van. Davenport, seeing Madeline and Michael, warned his team members in a low voice to behave. “Madeline’s waiting. Get your instructions from her and then debrief in ten.”
Kenmore and McDaniel exchanged looks and as if by some unspoken cue they both donned their “professional” look, the one that they copied from Michael, Operation and Madeline’s Top Op, as they called him. It was a topic a lot of the male operatives talked and joked about in private, of how if they could patent Michael’s blank stare and machine-like efficiency they could all be Section’s Top Op. Many of them, including McDaniel, had gotten very good at imitating Michael’s stare but the machine-like efficiency was another story.
The man was a f---ing god in Section, McDaniel thought. Not to mention that all the chicks in this place were dying to bed him, including Taylor. One of her biggest fantasies was to pretend that he was Michael while they f—ked. Sh-t, if that wasn’t the pits. If it wasn’t for the fact that Taylor was always extra horny whenever she acted out that particular fantasy, and the fact that she allowed him to get rough with her if he consented and pretended to be Michael, and that she even allowed him to act out some of his own kinky fantasies, McDaniel wouldn’t put up with it.
As they rolled the gurney into the access area Madeline stepped up and stopped them.
‘Blank face. Blank face.’ McDaniel repeated the mantra silently in his head. You didn’t want to full around with Madeline or give her reason to call you into her office. Not a good idea. No ways.
Kenmore put all his attention on the girl on the gurney to keep from looking at Madeline. He held his expression carefully in check as he assessed her. ‘Blond. Blond was good. Lots of bad guys like tall blonds, and this chick was tall. And heavy too. Thin but heavy. Pretty strange for a white chick to be all heavy like that. Must be the bones…’
“I take it all went well?” Madeline asked, startling Ken out of his concentrated reverie.
‘She talking to me?’ Kenmore glanced quickly over at McDaniel, who seemed as dead as the chick on the bed, his expression glazed over and calm-like. ‘Well, hell if he ain’t in the zone,’ Kenmore thought, and then shot a glance over to Davenport who was now standing beside Michael with his arms folded and a deep frown on his face, as if he was contemplating the solution to world peace or something. ‘Why the hell’s he not answering the question?’ Kenmore thought. ‘He’s the team leader!’
Madeline looked up at him, a gentle smile on her lips.
‘Oh no.’ Kenmore wanted to shake his head and back away. ‘Don’t give me that smile, lady. I know what that smile means. It means you wanna know what’s going on in my head. No thank you!’
Madeline arched one brow at him, and Kenmore miraculously remembered the question she’d asked.
“Y-yes ma’am. Fine. Just fine.”
Madeline smiled again and looked down at the girl. Kenmore felt immensely relieved. That didn’t go too bad. At least he had answered the question. He glared across at McDaniel and Davenport. Not like those two a—holes standing in front of him.
Madeline was feeling the girl’s neck, checking her pulse. Kenmore stole a quick look then at Michael. The man was looking his usual fine self. ‘Hell, I’d look fine too if I could get me some designer suits and shoes,’ Kenmore thought, and he made a mental note to talk to Davenport about increasing his clothing allowance.
“Take her down to MedLab,” Madeline instructed, and she took a step back to let the men proceed. To Michael, she said, “Give them about an hour to process and then meet her in the White Room.”
‘Damn,’ Kenmore thought, and he exchanged a quick knowing look with McDaniel. ‘Michael scores again.’
**
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