| Subject: Chapter 2: Mikey Wants A Cookie |
Author:
Sanlin
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Date Posted: 09:14:27 12/03/01 Mon
In reply to:
Sanlin
's message, "Welcome everyone :-D and a repost of "It's Absurd"" on 18:05:34 12/01/01 Sat
Michael, dressed in his black Gaultier suit, strode purposefully through Section.
He met no one in the deserted corridors. Intensely relieved, but still wary of surveillance, he kept his face frozen into an expressionless mask. The late hour saved him from some potentially embarrassing questions.
Michael moved as if possessed towards his singular objective.
***
A black-gloved hand reached out from behind and covered Birkoff’s mouth. Birkoff, sitting in Systems and monitoring Section’s graveyard-shift traffic, nearly fainted in his chair.
"Birkoff." The flat, deadly tone marked by an unmistakable French accent confirmed his assailant’s identity.
"Michael! What are—"
"Be quiet." Under the familiar aura of master-assassin, machine-man control, Birkoff detected that Michael’s voice sounded strange. Strained. “I need Intel and the location of the materials listed on my PDA. Plus access to a van and a “Tickle this, Elmo” T-shirt.”
"Whaa—" Birkoff cut his question short when he looked at Michael.
The Level 5 Op was a mess. His patently perfect hair was wild and disheveled. He was perspiring and breathing heavily. His cheeks were flushed with anger or excitement.
"Now, Birkoff." Michael’s tone didn’t invite further conversation.
Birkoff swallowed nervously. He took the PDA off Michael and uploaded its contents onto his computer before handing the device back to its owner.
As he read the supply list, Birkoff raised his eyebrows, slightly. "A what costume? Three cases of … Um… Michael? How soon do you need this stuff?"
"Now." The way he said it made Birkoff realize he meant right now! There was something predatory, almost aroused, in Michael’s thick, French-accented voice.
"But…" Birkoff sighed. Time for another miracle. Better that than rise to the top of Michael’s to do list. "I can provide the Intel and work-up the supply list, but Walter has the keys for the van and it’s his Elmo T-shirt. You’ll have to see him about those."
Michael sighed. By the time he finished with this mission, he thought, half of Section would be aware of it.
Glancing at the unopened bag of Oreo cookies near Birkoff’s console, Michael’s face took on a thoughtful expression. "I’ll need these, too," he said, grabbing the cookies.
"Hey! That’s the limit!" Birkoff protested. "The other stuff’s on me, but you’re going to owe me, big time, for those Oreos!"
“Agreed.” Michael leveled his bone-chilling blank stare at Birkoff until the young man’s face paled noticeably. “I was never here tonight.”
“I’ll download the Intel to your panel. While that’s cycling through, I’ll fix the surveillance tapes and erase the computer records.” Birkoff hid his grin, but secretly he was thrilled. He loved spy stuff and playing games against Section, provided no one, especially himself, got hurt. That and Michael was an enigma to him: big brother, super spy, friend, and intimidator. It wouldn’t be the first or last time Birkoff helped Michael with a mission not officially sanctioned by Section. Michael took care of his allies and his enemies.
Birkoff glanced down at his terminal and quickly typed in a series of commands. By the time he looked up again Michael had disappeared.
As he worked on his computer Birkoff thought, ‘Michael’s the man I long to be in real life. I can match his skills when I’m playing my favorite video games. If I use a reset button.’ Birkoff sighed and muttered to himself, "I’m going to have to put a bell on him, though, before he gives me a heart attack."
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