| Subject: Redemption |
Author:
Rox
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Date Posted: 21:02:11 12/13/01 Thu
In reply to:
Rox
's message, "Redemption (Sequel to Mea Culpa)" on 20:54:56 12/13/01 Thu
“Who’s that?”
Walter sighed quietly, mentally shaking his head at his hyperactive new recruit. He looked up to see whom the young man meant.
The person in question strode purposefully by, dressed head to foot in solid black.
“That’s Michael. He leads Red Team during hot ops.” Walter pointed with his chin as his hands were busy loading a clip with ammo.
“I’ve heard the name -- hey, isn’t he the guy they’ve nicknamed the Killer Angel?”
Walter pressed his lips together. “That’s one of his names, I suppose,” he said with a bit of disapproval in his voice. When women operatives had hung the nickname of “Archangel” on Michael several years ago, male operatives had changed it to suit themselves. Walter thought jealousy had a big part to play in their choice of “killer-angel,” however.
“Yeah! I’ve heard some stories about that guy! I heard he nearly let his entire team get killed… ”
“Look!” Walter’s patience had hit the flash point. “You’re new here, so I’m going to give you some good advice. We all have pasts we’d rather not have discussed. It’s rule number one -- I don’t talk about what you did to get here, and you don’t talk about what I did to get here. And rule number two, if you want to get along, don’t discuss other operatives and their work. Whatever else you’ve heard, Michael is the best at what he does!”
“Okay, it’s cool!” The young blond man put up his hands mockingly in self-defense.
Walter noticed the homemade tattoos on the recruit’s fingers – “kiss-kill” -- and wondered what kind of “talent” had landed the close-cropped, teenage recruit into section, but wasn’t going to break the rules himself to ask.
“Ohhh, shit! Who’s that bitchin’ babe?”
Walter sneered, gave a huff of a sigh and looked at whom the recruit had commented on.
“That… that’s Nikita.” Walter had caught her eye, and she smiled and waved briefly as she passed by. As soon as she was out of earshot, Walter turned on the recruit once again.
“Look, what’s your name?”
“Brandon,” Brandon murmured, still watching Nikita as she walked down the hall.
“Brandon… ” Walter repeated with a steel-edge to his voice, “I forgot to tell you rule number three.”
“What’s that, man?”
“Rule number three is, Nikita is a friend of mine, and I don’t like the word “bitchin’” attached to her name or her person, so unless you want me to serve up your balls with spaghetti sauce and Parmesan, I suggest you shut the hell up!”
Since Walter emphasized his anger by popping the clip he’d finished loading into a nearby Mac 10, Brandon thought it wise not to comment further.
“Nikita.”
Nikita took a deep breath and slowly turned around. “Yes, Michael?”
“Madeline would like to see you in her office.”
Nikita looked a bit confused. “Now?”
“Yes, now.” His voice was quiet as always, but Nikita noted that there was a hint of agitation in his expression. His eyes were like green ice.
“But what about this morning’s briefing?”
“I’ll back-brief you in my office later.”
Nikita nodded slowly, her expression guarded. “All right.” She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and pushed out of her chair. Michael stepped back reluctantly, or so it seemed to Nikita, but if he had anything he wanted to say to her, he hesitated too long.
“Nikita, good! Have a seat.” Madeline gestured to the empty chair in front of her desk and smiled that I-have-something-for-you-to-do-and-you-aren’t-going-to-like-it smile she was famous for.
“We haven’t spoken for a while. How have you been?”
Nikita slipped her sunglasses down her nose just enough to look over the top of them and pinned Madeline with a look that suggested she should “cut the crap” and get to the point.
It was enough to cause Madeline to chuckle. “All right, Nikita. I have an assignment for you. A cold op -- for now.”
Nikita slipped off her sunglasses and held them in her lap to await the details of the assignment. It had been three months since her near fatal mission in Iraq, and she had found the long downtime a strain; more so since she’d spent it alone.
Madeline turned the screen of her computer around so that Nikita could view the contents of a personnel file.
“This is Brandon Meyer, age 18.”
“Wait! Didn’t I just see him… ? “ Nikita started to gesture towards the door.“Yes. He’s here in Section.”
“Am I supposed to train him?” Nikita asked with some puzzlement.
“My, aren’t we eager this morning?” Madeline folded her arms and smiled again. “Something like that. Actually, he needs a girlfriend, and I’ve recommended you for the job.”
Nikita regarded Madeline with a please-tell-me-you’re-kidding look, but Madeline continued unfazed.
“Mr. Meyer was recently a member of the Colorado Order of Neo-Nazis, also known as the Aryan Brotherhood. He’s been cooperating with Section since his arrest and sentencing for murdering a black police officer, but not as much as we would like.”
“Lovely! A cop killer!” Nikita said with a derisive snort.
“Odd that you should say that, considering that’s how you ended up here.”
Nikita flashed her with a hurt frown, as if to say, “you know I didn’t do it.”
Madeline stood, moved to sit on the corner of her desk and continued, “But yes, a cop killer -- or to be more precise, a black cop killer. Which is why you have been chosen for this assignment. You and Brandon have something in common; you are both here because you killed policemen. You are also fair-skinned, blond and blue-eyed -- just the type of Aryan womanhood that should attract our young Nazi Romeo.”
“And once I become the love of his life, then what?”
“We want you to get him to talk about the CONN to verify whether or not they have a stolen nuclear device.”
“A bomb?”
Madeline nodded. “NSA contacted us four days ago. The Army is missing one small tactical nuke from their inventory. They believe it was an inside job, but they can’t prove anything. Their main suspect has turned up missing. Ironically, the man in question is Brandon’s older brother, Ross. The NSA is extremely upset over this, as Ross is a high-ranking noncommissioned officer with NATO clearance -- and access to tactical nukes. It seems they missed his affiliation with the Neo-Nazis while they were renewing his clearances two years ago, and now they’ve come to us to clean up their little mess.”
Madeline reached over and picked up a PDA on her desk. “Take this with you and study the mission profile. I will be your team leader for the duration, and you are not to discuss the details of this profile with anyone else in Section.”
“Then you mean I will not be reporting to Michael?” Nikita sounded surprised
“No. Michael’s busy on another assignment. Besides this is woman’s work.” She tossed Nikita a grin and sat back down at her computer. “Before you leave Section, stop by to chat with Walter and get an introduction to Brandon. Flirt with him a little -- just enough to pique his interest. Your profile contains a script outline to follow, along with an in-depth history and psyche evaluation of Brandon -- as far as we have been able to compile in such a short time. We know he can be violent, and he is absolutely distrustful of authority -- another area where you two are made for each other.” It was a joke, and both women smiled.
Nikita stood up and replaced her sunglasses. “Madeline, has anyone ever told you, you have a sadistic streak a mile wide?”
Madeline gave Nikita a wistful smile. “A few. It’s a job prerequisite. Report back to me in the morning, and let me know how the introductions went.”
* * *
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