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Date Posted: 15:59:13 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 50
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning - Part 33 and Up" on 15:11:24 05/03/02 Fri

Part 50

“Michael,” Walter said, “Open your eyes.”

Michael’s heart had stopped pumping, the blood ceasing to move through his veins, oxygen vanishing from his blood stream. The brutal images of the deaths of his loved ones fixed in his mind, haunting him. His beautiful son. Elena. Even the revelations of who she was didn’t change that she was the mother of his son. The son he adored. And Simone, the woman who made the ultimate sacrifices for him over and over. Willingly allowing him the ruse of his marriage to Elena. Welcoming Adam as her own.

He didn’t deserve any of them. He didn’t deserve to live. His body became limp against the torment of his mind.

“Michael,” Walter tried. “We’ve gotta move, follow them.” He came over to Michael and released him from his bindings.

Michael remained still. Walter leaned over him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Not now Michael,” he said, shaking him. “Nikita,” he pleaded, shaking him again, and then releasing him, Michael’s body remaining still, heavy. He tried again, “Nikita!” he yelled, “She loves you.”

Darkness invaded Michael’s mind and body. He was willing himself to die. He could take no more. He heard Walter’s voice she loves you… A small glimmer of light stirred in his heart. He shook his head, fighting it, not wanting it. Her voice, on the train, hers. “Michael, I love you,” she said. “I am empty without you.” Michael tried pushing her voice, her light away from him. He couldn’t lose another, he had so little left of his heart, any remaining muscle too damaged to recover. He steeled himself, allowing in the cold, feeling his warm blood being replaced by it. He had been right to live in shadows for so long. He would go back, live in darkness.

Again, her voice, silky, sultry intruded. Another snippet of conversation on the train. He had tried to tell her he was unworthy of anyone, especially someone like her. He had intended to end it then and there, but …

“Michael,” she said, after a few minutes. “I don’t understand why you’ve done the things you’ve done, but I still know who you are, and you are the only man I’ll ever want in my life, ever.”

He turned back to her, heart breaking. “Nikita, there’s more I have to tell you,” he said, eyes focusing on hers, some warmth returning.

An announcement interrupted him. They had arrived in Geneva, and it was time to disembark.

“Michael, nothing you tell me will make me change my mind about how I feel about you,” she said.

And she had meant it. Even after O’Brien grabbed her, forced him to tell her, she still… Damn her, he thought. Just let me die. But she wouldn’t.

Walter saw Michael’s fist heading towards him just as it connected with his stomach. Walter doubled over with pain, Michael hitting him exactly where Fanning had. The pain was unbearable, but Michael was alive. Walter mumbled through gritted teeth, “Thatta boy, let’s go.”

Michael stood from his chair, and reached his hands around Walter’s neck. He began squeezing, choking the air out of Walter’s throat. Walter clawed at Michael’s hands but was no match for the younger man’s strength. “Pll….pl..eeeaa…sss….eee,” Walter managed to hiss. Michael watched Walter’s eyes begin to dim as his consciousness faded from him. As he felt Walter’s life seeping through his hands, Michael dropped his arms and walked away. Killing Walter would be a too sorrowful revenge.

Walter lay on the floor, hands still scratching at his throat, panting, gasping for air to refill his shrunken lungs.

“Why?” Michael whispered. He waited for Walter to catch his breath, come back to normal.

Walter sat on the floor, leaning his back against the cabinets. His chest heaved as the oxygen returned. Walter looked up at Michael and said, “It was the only way.”

“Why?” Michael repeated, knowing nothing Walter could say would erase the damage of his handing her to the enemy. Michael feared what the kidnapping might trigger in her. “She loves you,” he whispered.

Walter shook his head. If he had a lifetime, he’d never been able to explain, he just knew this was the best and only option if her wanted her alive. “A tracker,” Walter said, still reclaiming air. “I’ve tagged her.”

Michael walked over to the older man, reached out his hand, pulled him up, and said, “Let’s go.”

Walter planted his feet firmly back on terra firma, and nodded in agreement.

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

The jostling of the car shook Nikita awake. She opened her eyes just enough to examine the wretched man driving the car. His words to Michael had been so hateful, so cruel. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back, hands tingling from the angle of her restraint and the dwindling blood supply. Legs equally bound.

“I know you’re awake,” Fanning said, his eyes remaining forward, hands loosely on the steering wheel, fingertips only.

“Who are you?” she asked, trying to separate her arms, looking for any slack in the ropes.

“Stop your squirming,” he said, “You’re in for the long haul, so just relax.”

“I asked you a question,” she said, teeth clenched.

“David Fanning, in answer to your query,” he said.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, finding courage for Michael. His agony-ridden eyes haunting her, inspiring her to avoid the temptation of acting the little girl.

“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that… it’s a surprise,” he said, chuckling. Fanning was still on a high from his lurid description of killing Michael’s loved ones.

As she heard his melodic, maniacal voice drone in the vehicle, Nikita felt herself grow stronger. He was an enemy and he needed to be taken out. Focus on a plan. She closed her eyes, working on the puzzle. He’d have to loosen the binding around her legs when they arrived, unless he planned to carry her. Her mind ran through several possibilities, planning carefully every word, every move.

She tried a different tact than outraged incredulity. She turned her head, eyed Fanning saucily, and said, “My arms are going numb.” She licked her lips, and asked, “Could you loosen them… just a little?”

David grinned a bright, wide smile. “Women,” he said, “I’m telling you.” He turned and looked at her for the first time since she regained consciousness, “No,” he said, elongating the ‘o’, voice playful, imitating anger, “I can’t.”

“Come on, David,” she soothed, “Not even just a tiny bit?” Nikita couldn’t believe how easily this ruse came. No creeping doubts, nagging voices. She had to get free, that’s all that mattered.

A giant guffaw exploded from Fanning’s mouth. “Sweet,” he said. Eyes turned back to the road. “I’m impressed with your training.”

A tiny bit of fear was trying to sneak into Nikita’s resolve. Her heart beat a little faster, a little louder. “Wh…what are you talking about?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled, knowing his role perfectly. “It’s just… no, never mind.”

Nikita could feel the sweat collecting on her lower back, apprehension setting in. Focus… Michael. “Just what?” she asked, her numb arms aching.

Fanning shrugged, and then turned to Nikita, face lurid, “Marco told me you were a nice piece of ass.” He chuckled again, as he focused back on the road. “You know,” he added, “he said you were the best assignment he ever had.”

Nikita squeezed her eyes shut, pushing away the image of Marco’s bloodied dead body falling from her. She labored her arms against the restraints, ignoring the burning raw pain in her flesh as she twisted her hands back and forth against each other. Voice icy, she said, “That’s not going to work.”

“Wooohooo,” he said, the taunt appealing to him. This was going to be fun. “I think it is…”

Nikita wasn’t sure if her wrists were covered with blood, sweat, or both, but she was sure she was making progress against her confinement. “He’s dead, you know,” she said.

“Is he?” Fanning asked. “I hadn’t heard that.” He looked at her, shook his head, and said, “Bummer.” He paused then said, “We’ll be there in about ten minutes, and then the mystery is over.” And so was the conversation.

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

“His compound is a fortress,” Walter said, the first words spoken between them since Michael had almost killed him. Michael held the small computer in his hand, following the tiny blip on the screen that was his heart.

“Turn left ahead,” he said, eyes focused on the green and black screen.

Walter considered his next words carefully before speaking. With an exhale, he began. “If I hadn’t played it this way, she’d be dead.” Michael’s flexing jaw muscles the only sign of his comprehension. “Keeping her alive is all that matters to me,” Walter said. No response. “The explosion at my house… it wasn’t meant for me… it was meant to kill her,” Walter said. The silence was overwhelming. Walter slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “Michael!” he shouted, “Don’t you get it? I gave her to Fanning to protect her!”

“Protect her,” Michael whispered, fighting back the nausea.” He finally threw a glance in Walter’s direction, “Forget it,” Michael responded. “Nikita first, explanations last.” Michael’s entire being was focused on retrieving Nikita… again. First O’Brien, then Fanning. His desire to strangle Walter had only mildly abated, hearing his attempted explanation only inflamed his overwhelming need to inflict harm. Michael lifted his eyes from his computer panel. “Get in the way,” he whispered, “I’ll kill you.”

Walter turned his attention back to the road. “I know,” he muttered.

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

“It won’t be much longer,” Paul said to his lovely companion as he entered her office, the door whooshing closed behind him.

Madeline lifted her eyes from her computer screen. “I heard,” she said. Brown eyes silently speaking volumes.

“What?” he asked, slightly irritated.

It wasn’t that long ago that he wouldn’t have noticed any change in the shape of her irises. “Why haven’t you left yet?” she asked.

He waved his hand, and shook his head. “You overestimate my personal interest in this matter.”

Smiling, Madeline said, “Perhaps.”

Operations had busied himself with one of Madeline’s bonsais. “Have you noticed how this branch,” he said, pointing to the uppermost delicate arm of the plant. “It’s precision… magnificent.” Hs shifted his grey blue eyes to Madeline. “If this glorious being needed to sacrifice its most precious,” he looked back to the plant, and then to Madeline, “self… it’s for the greater good.”

Madeline smirked, this was a new twist on Operations sacrifice for the greater good speech. This had nothing to do with the greater good. He had orchestrated Philippe’s organization from the beginning, albeit, a silent partner. Now was time for some good old-fashioned, wounded male pride revenge.

“Have we heard from the Argentinean teams?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, preparing herself for the oncoming tirade. “There’s been a tactical error from team one.” She felt his eyes drilling holes into her brain. “The General is dead.”

To her surprise, Operations laughed. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Madeline was puzzled by Paul’s response. After all, hadn’t this entire network of deceit developed in response to his being alive? “May I ask a question,” Madeline said.

“You want to know why I didn’t kill him a long time ago? Why I didn’t kill all of them?” He had walked away from her plants, and leaned on the corner of her desk, facing her. How to explain the war? How to explain that no one is in their right mind while you’re there physically, mentally, or otherwise. The decisions never added up to sanity. Paul smiled at her and said, “You should know me by now, Madeline. I was following orders.”

“If,” she said, “it advances your objectives.”

Paul stood, placed his hand on Madeline’s shoulder, and stared directly into her eyes. “You do know me.” His eyes lingered for a moment on her beautiful face. “I’ll be leaving in an hour… you’ll join me?” he asked.

Liquid chocolate eyes brightened, and she said, “Naturally.”

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Replies:

  • Part 51- suggestive, language -- Repost Fairy, 16:01:40 05/03/02 Fri
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