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Date Posted: 15:57:02 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 49 - EXTREMELY DARK
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning - Part 33 and Up" on 15:11:24 05/03/02 Fri

Part 49

Gail had shown Birkoff what he needed to know in order to survive in Section. Money, food, the basics. How to get what he needed. He felt sad he would never see her again. He checked his wallet, counting the bills one more time, and stepped onto the train platform. He was going to run, run, run and never be found by these people.

He had almost found Section to his liking until he understood completely the files on Walter, Michael, Nikita. It was too much, he couldn’t be a part of that. They expected him to, forget it, block it out. I’m gone.

Birkoff bought a ticket to Milan, the first city that popped into his head. He didn’t speak Italian, but he’d heard the Italians were a friendly sort. He’d find a hotel room, hide, cry, get drunk, forget everything.

The trip was a blur. He changed trains several times, following the masses of people, trying to act like he belonged. He didn’t have a watch, didn’t know what time it was, just followed the people.

He stumbled off the train in Milan, grateful for this part of his journey to be over. He wandered through the station, finding the exit, ground transportation, hailed a taxi. Somewhere along the way he had had the presence of mind to buy an Italian phrase book. As he stepped into the taxi, his head was buried in the small volume, searching for the right words for ‘take me to an inexpensive hotel.’ His search was interrupted by an English-speaking voice.

“Mr. Birkoff,” the voice said.

“Huh?” he replied.

Two men joined him in the back seat, each entering the car from opposite sides. A pistol was aimed at his face. “Please come with us.”

“Wh…where?” he asked, his mind shutting down, his head hanging forlornly, knowing the answer.

“Section,” they said, “To Madeline.”

************

Adrian was worried. She hadn’t heard from Madeline or Walter in several days. She had remained in Paris, assuming she would be called upon by either one. Nothing.

She poured herself a small sherry, chuckling. Sometimes the stereotypes were so true, old English ladies sipping at their sherry. “Not old,” she said aloud. She brought her sherry to her seat by the window, looking out, thinking over the last month.

She sipped the drink, appreciating the smooth fire, the slight sweetness. She enjoyed fine Spanish sherry, not of that American firewater that Walter always enjoyed. Oh, Walter. She had wished it could have been different. They had found each other when necessary, no commitments, only during times when grief needed to be shared.

Adrian wanted this entire nightmare to be over, but that was wishful thinking. The wheels had been set in motion long ago, her prayers of it disappearing never coming to fruition. She recalled Paul’s visit a few days ago. He had been distracted, perhaps too honest, unusual for him.

He had practically admitted this had been a game. She accepted that – after all, he was a connoisseur of the enigma. But his words about Bobby were unbelievable. He loved her, it was clear, but something had changed during those months he and the Frenchmen had vanished. Then the atrocity, abomination in Cambodia. Roberta fleeing with the child. Adrian remembered the look on Paul’s face the day she left – he had never been the same, of that she was sure. And he had been the one to throw her out. Puzzling.

************

“Here,” Paul said, handing Roberta a thick envelope. “It’s filled with money, identities, passports, everything you need. Take the girl and disappear.”

Roberta’s arms remained by her sides, disbelief covering her face. She shook her head, “No,” she whined, “I’m staying with you. I love you.”

They were standing on the porch of the house, sun just setting, dusk. They’d been back from Cambodia for a month, still waiting further orders.

“You are in the way here. I’m giving you a chance. Take it,” he said. He thrust the envelope towards her face. “Take it.” He released it from his hand, the envelope landing with a lout thwack as it hit the wood.

“What about Nikita?” she asked. “Don’t you love her?”

Paul couldn’t take this torment. Didn’t she understand they were in danger? This was no joke, no game, he’d made a promise he would regret forever to keep them safe. Compromised everything.

“If you don’t leave,” he said, “I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a military operation. You’ll never see Nikita again.” His eyes washed over her face, her body one last time, then he turned, and entered the house.

************

Birkoff returned to Section, his body trembling with fear. He remembered the tapes of the White Room, and he was sure that’s where he would find himself. He knew what happened there – death, torture, torture then death. He felt sweat trickle down his back.

The two men walked him through the maze of Section, Birkoff’s head downcast, paying not attention to where they were taking him. They arrived at the door, he knew what was on the other side. A new jolt of fear clouded his mind as the creaking door swung open, mimicking the sound of a dungeon. He was in hell, and he was going to die.

The two men forced him into the metal chair in the center of the room, handcuffs capturing his arms. He didn’t fight. He didn’t know how, knew he would lose. Securing his restraints, the two men left. Birkoff sat in the blinding white room, silent, afraid.

He didn’t know how long had passed, his eyes focused on the door, wondering who would come to kill him. God, he was only twenty-one! He had his whole life ahead of him. At least I won’t die a virgin, he thought. He guffawed out loud. What a stupid thing to think at a time like this. A pig to the very end. Small tears dripped down his face.

The horrible door suddenly swung open, perfectly coiffed Madeline standing before him. How could someone so intelligent, so beautiful be so ugly, he wondered. Her shark-like eyes, reflecting nothing chilled him.

Madeline approached him, her face wearing the smile that stopped below her eyes. “Mr. Birkoff,” she said, “How unfortunate.”

With as much courage as he could summon, he said, “I didn’t think I was important enough for you to do the dirty work.”

She laughed her small, bemused Madeline laugh. “Killing you would be a waste,” she said. “I know that Bishop showed you your file. At this time, we need you alive.” She turned to leave.

“That’s it?” he said, unexpectedly feeling above the fray.

Madeline stopped walking, sighed loudly, and turned to face him again. “Mr. Birkoff, yes, that’s it. However,” she added, “when you return to your quarters, I suggest you review the CD I left for you.”

“A job?” he asked.

“If you do this again,” she said, her voice nearly melodic, “what you see on that disk will happen to you.” Her brown eyes sent a zap of electricity across the room. “Understood?”

Birkoff lost his bravado, dropped his head, and said, “Yes ma’am.”

************

Operations chuckled as he watched the video screen of Madeline’s discussion with the young computer genius. “I wouldn’t try it again, if I were you,” he said to the screen, as he switched it off.

“He won’t,” she replied.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, smiling with approval. “Everything on schedule for Buenos Aries?” he asked. He walked over to his desk, and sat in the large chair behind it.

“Oh yes,” she replied, taking her seat in front of the desk. “We’ll have no trouble locating your General. He’s been most indiscreet of late.”

Paul recalled their last conversation. “He’s tired of the game,” he said, “We all are.”

“Oh?” she asked, cocking her head.

He laughed, “Well, just his part,” he said. “The minute I become tired of the entire game, I might as well sign my own cancellation order.”

Madeline showed nothing, but was pleased. They had come to some amiable truce, and her plans were going very nicely, thank you very much. The last thing she wanted or needed was to groom a new Operations. The job would never be hers, Center preferring men to women. She didn’t mind, she got what she wanted.

“Anything else?” she asked as she prepared leave.

Operations was lost in thought, he truly cared about this twisted woman. When did that happen? He shook his head, and then said, “Oh, yes, it’s been done.”

Madeline smiled, allowing the smile to reach her eyes, “Good,” she said. “How fun.”

************

Michael awoke, bound and gagged in a chair. His head ached from whatever Walter had given him, his mouth thick, like cotton, the gag pushing against his tongue. He wanted to gasp, draw in air, but didn’t want to alert his captors he was awake. Not yet. First he listened.

“Don’t tell him, ok?” Walter pleaded.

A voice Michael didn’t recognize, but maybe seemed familiar answered. “Look Pops, I do what Operations tells me, and his orders were to give him the skinny, and then take the girl.”

“Fanning,” Walter said, “If I could, I’d kill you.”

David Fanning laughed, “Yeah, I know. Cool, huh?” Michael heard the sound of a clip snapping into a gun. He very slowly tested his restraints. He was expertly tied, going nowhere.

“So when will Prince Charming and Sleeping Beauty wake up?” Fanning asked. “We’ve got a timetable.”

Walter knew the drug should have worn off by now. He had been watching Michael’s eyelids, detecting alertness. “Soon,” Walter said.

“Ohhh,” he heard Nikita murmur. She at least had not been gagged, restraint of her vocal cords apparently not necessary.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Fanning said, “Almost time to meet the Wicked King and Queen.”

Fanning. Fanning. David Fanning... the name materializing in his brain. Why did he know that name? Where had he seen it before? He stretched his memory, photographs of gruesome murders, political mostly. Unclaimed assassinations. David Fanning, assassin. Michael had come across his file recently when searching for possible parties involved in… no, this couldn’t be.

Michael opened his eyes, knowing without a shred of a doubt, he was looking at the man who had killed almost everyone he had ever loved.

“Gee Michael, she’s even prettier than the other two,” Fanning said, gun pointed at Nikita’s head.

“Walter?” Nikita asked, eyes frantically skipping from Walter to Fanning to Michael. She was rewarded with a smack across the face with Fanning’s gun.

“Shut up, blue eyes,” he said. A gash appeared on Nikita’s cheek, blood beginning to ooze. She said nothing.

Michael’s eyes widened, he blinked, anger pulsing through his blood as he listened to the voice of the man who killed his family.

Fanning returned his attention to Michael. “I wanted to kill you, too. I mean, I’m not a horrible man. I gotta say I kind of felt bad for you. Losing all those people like that.” Fanning chuckled while he spoke, eyes widening modestly in mock sympathy.

“Get going Fanning,” Walter interrupted, “She’s ready to be moved.”

“Come on old man,” Fanning said, ‘I’m enjoying myself.” He was standing next to Nikita and saw Walter moving towards him from the corner of his eye. Fanning spun and kneed Walter in the stomach, dropping him to the floor. Walter remained still, not wanting to push this psychopath any further. He would ride out the next few minutes if he had to, all that mattered was seeing Nikita alive.

Fanning’s eyes drew back to Michael, gun still steady on Nikita. “You know, your boy was just like you. You’d have been proud,” Fanning said. “He didn’t say a word, just stood in front of his mother, trying to protect her.” Fanning stopped speaking, delighting in both tormenting Michael and the delicious memory of slaughtering his prey. “For your piece of mind,” Fanning added, “He felt nothing. His death was instant.” Nikita’s quiet sobbing disrupted Fanning’s speech for a moment. He looked into Michael’s eyes again, “His neck snapped, just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers together in a loud crack.

Michael’s eyes ablaze with rage, his arms pulling forcefully against his restraints. His mouth pushed against the gag, every muscle screaming in agony, reliving the death of his precious son.

“Now,” Fanning started again, “Your lovely wife was a different story. She fought me like a tiger!” Michael’s eyes betrayed his mind to Fanning. David cocked his head and then laughed. “No, not that,” he said, wearing a ‘gee shucks’ look. “Hey, man, she was yours. I don’t take chicks who don’t dig me.” He laughed again. “But she did get in a few good swings. I had a pretty fierce black eye.”

“Please,” Nikita begged, tears dripping down her face, nose running. “No more.”

Fanning moved closer to her, and grabbed her face with one had, squeezing her cheeks close together. “Shut up, blondie. Don’t make it any worse for yourself.” He released her head with a toss, pulling all the muscles in her neck. Nikita tried to squelch the sound of pain she felt.

“Where was I?” Fanning asked. “Oh yeah, the lovely Elena. Section told me she was a good little soldier. I expected her to face death like one.” He chuckled again, “Boy was I wrong. She fought like she had a purpose, that maybe she’d actually get to live or something.” He shook his head at her foolishness. “I gotta say, given her training to follow orders, I couldn’t understand it at all. Jesus Michael, was she always so pig-headed?”

Michael fought to keep his eyes open, the words of his captor cutting his nerve endings as if a tiny pair of scissors were snipping at each one.

“Glad I’ve got your attention, because… oh… I think you’re going to enjoy this. So you know, being the inquisitive guy and all that I am… you don’t probably know that about me… anyway, turns out… you’re going to love this…” Fanning laughed again, “Did you know you were going to be a father again?”

Michael’s eyes widened, as if taking a hard, solid punch in the stomach. He had made it clear to Elena he did not want any more children. Of course, at the time, he thought he was protecting her from the inevitable dissolution of the marriage. He closed his eyes, in defeat, sorrow, the pain washing over him, drenching him.

“No, huh,” Fanning said, observing Michael’s reaction. “I guess you didn’t know, sorry to be the one to give you the news.”

Nikita’s tears only grew, knowing these words were slowly killing Michael.

Fanning was laughing again. “There’s more... I know, it’s unbelievable! See if you can follow this. You didn’t know that she was Section, you thought she was some sweet innocent. And given what I know about you, I bet you went to a great deal of trouble to hide your feelings for Simone from her. Guess what! Elena knew all about it. And she was actually jealous!” Fanning looked downwards, then smile on his face, eyes lifted back to Michael, he said, “You know what I think? I’m no shrink or anything, but I bet she got pregnant thinking you’d dump Simone.”

Fanning’s words shredded any last faith Michael had in any kindness he had ever done. He thought he and Simone had been so clever at hiding their relationship. Michael desperately trying to protect Elena from knowing about them. He thought she was naïve, couldn’t see what was between them. Everything was a lie. Every time he tried to live with honor, he was dishonorable and dishonored everyone he loved.

“Hey Michael,” Fanning said, “Don’t sweat it, I put her out of her misery. One shot to the head, one to the gut. Poetic, wasn’t it?”

“Fanning, just go,” Walter intoned from the floor. He had had enough.

Fanning deployed a bullet near Walter’s head, missing him by inches. “When I’m ready, Pops.” He turned back to Michael, “Victim number three, Simone. Now she’s the one that almost got away. Well-trained chick, Michael. She almost shot me, I couldn’t believe it!” he said with great indignity. He laughed again, “I’ve got to admit, I really enjoyed slitting her throat. Her blood ran… beautifully.” He exhaled.

“Well,” he sighed, shaking his head. “The man told me to tell you, so, I hope it helped, I really do.” He laughed again.

Nikita was sobbing. Michael was frozen, no emotions left to experience. “I’m sorry Michael,” she cried.

Fanning hit her again, and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back squarely against the chair. He looked into her eyes, “What is it with you women and this guy?” he asked, glancing over at Michael. He let go of her hair, and then removed a syringe from his pocket. He injected the liquid into her neck. “Come on beautiful, you’re coming with me.” Nikita’s body relaxed, her eyes fluttering closed, and slipped into unconsciousness. Fanning untied her, hoisted her over his shoulder, waved at Michael and Walter, and left.

Michael could hear the engine of a car rev, then slowly disappear into the distance. His beloved was gone.

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  • Part 50 -- Repost Fairy, 15:59:13 05/03/02 Fri
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