Black Ops Series: Hadal Zone

by Ndfarmer80

Michael struggles with his desires to remain with Section or to choose another path. The reasons to leave begin to out with the reasons to stay.

1. Chapter 1

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HADAL ZONE: ACT TWO CONT'D

by NDfarmer80

[Music inspiration provided by Pitbul (Toma, Culo, Go Girl); Daddy Yankee (Rompe); Usher (Lil Freak); Ne-Yo (She Knows) D'Angelo (Brown Sugar, Lady, Untitled); Bone Crusher (Neva Scared); Tupac (Makaveli Album); Midnight Jazz (various artist)]

Michael never liked clinicals, even when he was at Section, but he knew they were necessary for him to remain in top shape for the rigors of missions. Every operative, no matter their office, had to go through at leat one week a month of physical training. For field operatives, it was a weekly requirement to make certain their skils remained sharp. He did not mind the hours of combat training, yoga, and field maneuvers. What he couldn't stand was the jogging. The marathon intensive running that often left his chest feeling tight and his muscles aching. At Section, they trained on a mile track and a focused treadmill that offered a series of high and low terrains along with varying speeds. At the Outpost, there was no treadmill or mile long track to run. There was only hot sands and natural terrain to traverse. Evelyn had chosen the early morning hours to conduct clinicals which meant everyone had to be up and out on the plains before 4:30am. This part did not matter to Michael as he was quite used to waking at 3:30am. There were few and far between times where he could remember sleeping more than a few hours, unbroken. While he was at the house, it seemed sleep came much faster and easier, making waking early a little difficult. Especially since there was not a decent pot of coffee to rely on. By 6:00am, the heat of the coming day was already breeching the seventies and climbing quickly. By the time the team began field maneuvers, everyone was bathed in sweat and gasping. Evelyn passed around bottles of water to everyone, lingering a little longer at Michael than she did the rest. She brushed wet hair away from his face before returning to the team.

"Okay fellas! Trenches!" Evelyn called from the bed of a pick up truck.

All sixteen recruits and field operatives went down into the dirt and began crawling through the obstacle course set up for them on the outskirts of town. The one mile area used to be an old training ground for border patrol officers. After it was abandoned, Section took it over and made it the Outpost training area. Instead of being in a state-of-the-art facility, operatives trained in the blistering heat in an open terrain course. As the sun began to ascend further into the sky, the temperatures climbed even further until finally it was almost too hot to breathe.

Michael poured what was left of his water over his face. The cool liquid only refreshed his skin for a moment before the heat came again in a vengeful wave. Beside him, Romeo began coughing uncontrollably. He bent forward bracing himself against his knees. He was holding his water bottle, but was not drinking it. Michael reached down and opened the bottle for him and held it to his lips. Romeo, noticing the bottle, opened his mouth and allowed Michael to pour in the water. After he drank a few gulps, he held up his hand to signal he was finished. Michael capped the bottle. Romeo coughed some more then wiped his mouth with the end of his already wet t-shirt.

"You good?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, man. Thanks. I owe you one," Romeo said in a slight rasp.

"Don't worry about it." Michael handed Romeo the water bottle.

Evelyn stood on the truck bed, overlooking the operatives and assessing their overall demeanor. She was dressed this time in a army green tank and a pair of blue jean short shorts, black socks, combat boots, Che military hat, and dark sunglasses. She barked orders like a drill sergeant coaching the team through the different obstacles until they were returned to her, panting and nearly on the verge of heat stroke. Michael, Sanchez, and Tarek finished the course in record time leaving Morales and Santino to come in second, Romeo and Priest to roll in next, and the rest to filter in last with Zeke pulling up the rear. Evelyn looked down at her timer watch and jumped down from the bed of the truck. She went down the line of them, looking them up and down with a slight sneer. She stopped at one recruit who was presently bent over, struggling to catch his breath.

"Stand up," she ordered gruffly.

The recruit continued to cough and struggle to breathe as he bent over.

"I said, stand up, grunt."

"I..I can't...I can't catch...my breath."

"You will stand up now, or die."

The recruit continued to cough and sputter about not being able to breathe. Evelyn's jaw clenched tight. She pulled out a switch blade from her back pocket and held it to the recruit's throat.

"I don't care if you can't breathe," she hissed. "You do as you are told. Now stand the fuck up or I open up your insides right here so that all of you can breathe."

The recruit, eyes wide with fear, stood up straight. He stared at Evelyn, trembling. A wet spot began to form at his left leg. Moments later, a trickle of urine pooled at his feet. Evelyn looked down at the urine then at the recruit, her mouth twisted in disgust. She took the knife away from his throat slowly and folded it with emphasis.

"Get this pussy ass fool out of my sight. Pissin' on himself. You're not going to make it."

Two other operatives appeared behind the recruit and pulled him from the team. The recruit began to object to being hauled away.

"Do yourself the favor and kill yourself before I get back," said Evelyn as the recruit was being loaded into a van and driven away. "Now, bitches, let me be clear. When I tell your ass to do something, you do it. Don't question me, don't fight me, don't come at me. Because you don't want me coming at you, you feel me? Good workout, but I need to see more hustle from the few of you that barely made the course. You don't finish in time next time, I'm hobbling."

Michael leaned over towards Romeo and spoke in a hushed voice. "What's hobbling?"

Romeo looked at Michael, eyes wide with awareness. "You've never seen Misery?"

Michael shook his head no.

"It's when she takes a plank and puts it between your ankles, then she gets a sledge hammer and..."

Romeo made a motion suggesting swinging the hammer. Michael immediately understood. It was a violent and archaic form of torture not used in many countries except for some very rare and primitive groups. He had not seen or heard of it ever being done to anyone he knew, but he could imagine the pain and trauma it would cause someone. He looked to Evelyn, seeing her slightly different now, knowing that she was prepared to enact such a barbaric punishment for something as slight as not completing an obstacle course on time.

"I love Miss E, but she can be a real bitch sometimes," said Romeo.

Evelyn barked for everyone to get on the trucks and head back in to get cleaned up. She got into one of the flat bed trucks and spun out from the team, leaving them to follow. Michael got on the back of one of the trucks that carried them out to the training course, and sat down heavily. It had been a long while since he had to endure a training like the one Evelyn put them all through. And there was still sparring to do later, of which he hoped was done inside the bunker. Romeo crowded in next to him. Once everyone was on a truck or inside a van, they pulled away from the course and headed back towards the house.

"What's it like where you're from? Do they do clinicals like this?" asked Romeo.

"Not quite. Our facilities are inside of Section," Michael replied, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.

Romeo nodded. "When I was on the Farm, they had us all training inside with these really futuristic type machines and holograms. It was pretty cool. You guys still use those?"

"From time to time."

"I would love to see the Section you come from. It probably looks like something off Star Trek or something," Romeo joked.

"What's Star Trek?"

"Star Trek. You know, Captain Kirk? Spock? Lieutenant Uhura? You don't know them?" Romeo looked truly puzzled.

Michael shook his head no.

"Ah man! You gotta watch Star Trek! It's like Star Wars for tv."

"What's Star Wars?"

Romeo looked at Michael not believing he had never heard of Star Trek or Star Wars. He shook his head, dumbfounded.

"What the hell did they do to you?" said Romeo.

"What do you mean?" Michael turned his attention now to Romeo who was insisting on carrying on a conversation with him.

"You don't know Star Trek, you don't know Star Wars, you only know one color apparently. What the hell do you all do at your Section? Sit around and play chess all day?"

"No. That's not what we do all day. We surveillance world powers and communications to find people that act in terroristic activities against local governments."

Romeo shook his head, laughing. Michael furrowed his brow, not understanding what was so funny.

"Naw, man! That's not what I meant. I know *that*, what I meant was, do you guys ever have a moment to get loose. let your hair down, well your's is always down, but you know what I mean. Do you guys ever go out and party?"

Michael considered the question. He looked at Romeo. "No."

"You have never gone out to party?" Romeo challenged.

"It's not necessary," said Michael bluntly.

"Not necessary? What's life without a little bit of fun in it? I've been watching you man. You're always frowning like your dog died and they took your trailor, left you with one pair of holy drawls and a half drunk beer. It's about time for you to have some fun. Do you even know how to have fun?"

"I do fine on my own," Michael said quietly.

He did not want to admit how long it had been since he had gone out anywhere for the sole sake of having fun. He was pretty sure at Section, having fun broke some sort of protocol rule that would result in being put in abeyance. The most fun he could recall having was during a mission taking out a chemical plant. He was partnered with Charlie, before she turned murderous on him, and the two decided to play a game of Who-Could-Kill-The-Most. They were even by the time he reached the control booth, but Charlie one upped him by taking out the target they were supposed to be bringing back for questioning. Charlie said she had already interrogated him and grabbed the file records from his computer which detailed where the chemicals were supposed to be shipped and who was going to be receiving them. Charlie said they didn't really need the target, but Michael knew she had killed him to win the game. They shared skittles on the transport back to Section, laughing about their various body counts.

"After we are done with this mission, I'm taking you out," said Romeo resolutely.

"I don't go out, Romeo," said Michael.

"You going. And you gone have fun because you gone with Romy-Rome and the Uptown Posse."

"Who is the Uptown Posse?"

Romeo smiled his slick grin that spoke only to his mischief. "You'll see."

They reached the house and everyone filed out of the vehicles. Many of the recruits disappeared in their cars to head God only knew where. A few others poured into the house to grab prepared plates and drinks. Two young men took their seats in front of the television to watch...sports? Michael paused a moment to look at the screen. He began to notice imbedded images within the basketball game. At first, all he could see were the players racing up and down the court, but the longer he looked, the more he began to see the underlying images within the screen. He realized then that it was not a basketball game that he was looking at, but a reconditioning program being played on the monitor. The two young men watching the screen were recruits going through reprogramming. The longer he stood watching the screen, Michael slowly realized he was becoming transfixed by the images as well, effectively going through reprogramming. He stood a moment longer before he felt a tug at his arm. He looked to see who had pulled on him and came face to face with Evelyn.

"I don't think you want to be looking at that right now," she said. "C'mon. Let's get something to eat."

Michael blinked a few times before following Evelyn into the kitchen. As before, Arlene began passing out covered plates to waiting hands. When she got to Evelyn, she handed her a plate and added that she did not put salt on any of the vegetables. Evelyn thanked her and went to grab a drink from the always stocked fridge. Arlene reached over and grabbed another covered plate from the back of the counter and handed it to Michael.

"Now, I know you don't like fried chicken, so I made you some beef tips and potatoes. I figured you would need something a bit more hardier than spaghetti."

Michael thanked Arlene, and to his amazement, was not cursed out and told to get the hell out her kitchen. He grabbed a drink and headed towards the bunker downstairs, unwilling to eat among so many people. He desired the solitude of his room where he could eat and work at the same time. The hum of the house, although comforting, still overwhelmed him at times. He was not used to being around so many people. Even at Section, with as many operatives rushing from here and there, moving in a constant swirl, he never felt their presence as closely as he did in the house. He could always retreat into his office and never once have to interact with anyone he did not explicitly need to. If he spoke to someone, it was on purpose, and when he was done, he dismissed them or himself accordingly. If Section ran as a machine, the Outpost behaved as a living organism, evolving daily and adapting to its ever changing conditions. The warmth of the home kept trying to embrace him, but it made him uncomfortable. He had been within its hands for nearly a week and he still could not understand the universe it inhabited. This world of laughter and jokes, and street clothes, and music was alien to him, and yet, he knew this was the kind of life that he sometimes dreamed about. A place where he could sit back and put his feet up without ever worrying about whether or not he would be attacked for doing so. A place where he could strum a guitar and play along with someone else in the cool of the evening and not be concerned about how late they played. A place where he could drink red punch with a little whiskey in it and stare up at the stars without wondering if a satelite was going to somehow communicate a signal to end the world as he knew it. This place was colorful and bright, full of life and free of danger. Simone had tried to escape to it. Charlie would have reveled in it. Nikita would have loved it.

Michael sat down on his bed, setting his plate beside him. He rubbed his face. Nikita was creeping back into his thoughts again. Every time he wanted to throw her out, she seemed to wiggle her way back into his system. He was becoming frustrated with thoughts of Nikita. He could not forget the look in her eyes when she came into his office to return the transmitter he left stuck to her back. She looked betrayed, because she was. He had used her to gain access to Jurgen's home where he could pull the files Jurgen was using as security for his own means. He knew then that she would be slow to trust him again. All that he had done and would do had gone up in flames along with Jurgen. He could either accept the fact that any romance that would have blossomed between them was now reduced to rubble, or continue on in his mission of misery to try and earn her trust back. At the moment, he was unsure which direction he wanted to go. Especially since he was entertaining an odd curiosity towards Evelyn.

She was an enigma to him now. When he thought he had pegged her, she would turn a curve and lose him again. She seemed forceful in her approach towards the recruits and the other operatives under her command. She could be frightening and confusing all in the same breath, and yet, also caring and tender with them as well. She could spin on a dime becoming as violent as a wild boar, then turn into the softest place to land. He wanted to figure her out, but the fun was not in knowing her. It was the getting to know her that intrigued him. She toyed with the idea as well. He could tell. The way her eyes looked at him with question, the way she seemed to linger a little longer in his presence, and the way she sometimes made gestures of care towards him. She spoke truth to him, even when it hurt him to the core. She would give him the hard medicine, then sweeten it with her own special honey. He was beginning to wonder what that honey tasted like.

Eveln had not called for the team to spar. Instead, she focused them on their mission set to launch that evening. She held a briefing detailing the target they were going to go out and search for and hopefully capture. Michael was a little alarmed to be given a dossier instead of having the information on a digital panel. The documents detailed their target, a black male, thin, average height wearing a head full of unruly dreads and looking like he missed more than a few meals. Evelyn stated he was one of Guillermo's chief drug runners. He pushed several tons of coke over the border and organized bodies on occassion as well. His street name was Box Boy. There were several reasons why he might be called that, but Evelyn did not linger long on this, unlike Operations, who would have given an entire speech about the name.

"We head out tonight about ten," said Evelyn. "Since we are unsure exactly what he looks like, we will assume he still is wearing the dreads. He may blend into the crowd, so we will have to flush him out. Box Boy loves dance halls so we will start there. One club in particular is where we will begin. Tarek, Romeo, and Zeke. You three will go in to pick up Box Boy. Priest will be handling field communications. Michael and I will be calling tactical."

"Are we sure he is going to be at this club tonight?" asked Tarek.

"All our intel states that he will be at The Den tonight. Likely in the VIP section with a few of his friends. Keep an eyeball on the booths for anyone with his description. He will likely have body guards with him so be mindful of them as well. Sanchez will get worked in as bottle service. After Sanchez pops the tab in his drink, it will make him have to go to the bathroom. From there, we can get him and lead him out. We'll bring him to the flower shop. Any questions?"

"Oh, it's on tonight!" said Romeo, excited.

Evelyn turned quickly to Romeo. "Tonight is a mission, not a night out on the town. Let's pick this guy up and bring him in. We can party later."

"We can't party just a little bit?" Romeo smiled his most charming smile.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Everybody, keep focused. There will be a lot of people there tonight. Crowds will be thick so use your two way."

"Security will be heavy as well," said Arlene. "Sanchez will have your gear. Once inside, she will direct you to your booth to find them."

"Al'right people, let's get ready for the evening. Meet back upstairs in five hours." Evelyn closed her black notebook and carried it out of the conference room.

Michael slowly rose from his seat, already feeling the aches and pains of the morning activities. He longed for a hot bath where he could sit in water and listen to soothing music. His bathroom in the bunker only offered the shower, which could work, but he did not really feel like standing. Romeo danced up next to him looking as though he had not spent all morning running through the dirt with everyone else. He smiled brightly, his eyes showing excitement about the evening's assignment.

"Yo! You gone love The Den!" he said and began to do a two step dance. "Tonight is about to be popping! Imma hop up outta be-eeed, turn my on swag ooonnnn, take a look in the mirror and say what's up, what's up, yeah! I'm gettin' money! Yeah! Turm my swag on, it's my time to turn it up yea, yea!"

Michael didn't bother to push back his laughter. He shook his head, considering Romeo a lost cause and started out the conference room. Romeo skipped behind him, still dancing and rolling his arms in front of him. Michael went into the lounge and found a water bottle in the refridgerator. He twisted the cap off and leaned against the cabinets. Romeo followed suit, finding a water and opened it, still dancing.

"What kind of place is this? A club?" asked Michael after taking a long draw from the bottle.

"Not just any club. THE club! It's one of the hottest places to be at in this area. Man, all kind of acts be there. Low key of course. You don't know who will show up. It could be Luke, Diddy, Mack 10, Wayne, Luda! Any damn body! Last time I had a night off, I got to see Naughty by Nature. I really didn't have that much fun though 'cause all the damn hunnies were all on Treach's dick so I didn't get no kind of play."

"Treach?" Michael said inquisically.

"Yeah, Treach. You know, Treach? Naughty by Nature? Naw you don't know him-anyway, all I'm saying is tonight is about to be bomb! I wonder if Lil Kim is as freaky as I think she is?" Romeo mused, drifting into fantasy. "It don't matter. I bring that freak monster outta everybody! Raaawr!"

This time, Michael could not stop himself from bursting into laughter. Water sprayed from between his lips as he doubled over in giggles. The sound of his own genuine laughter shocked him a little. He had not heard himself laugh in quite some time, and the sound of it erupting out of himself made him feel curiously elated. He wiped his mouth, a little chagrined at having spit, but not really bothered by it as much. Romeo was laughing, too. Their eyes found each other, and Michael wondered how a kid like Romeo wound up in a place like Section. He did not strike him as a killer, or someone who would do something so heinous as to land him behind bars for life. He just seemed too innocent to ever be convicted of anything other than being a loveable goofball.

Romeo started out of the lounge, still half dancing as he went.

"Eh Yo! If you need any help getting your swag together, come find me! I'm in the book. Just look for Finest Nigga on the Planet!"

Michael held his grin as he walked back to his room. He took a shower, hoping the hot water would calm his muscles down, even if he did have to stand. Afterwards, he felt only marginally better as he dressed in another pair of sweats and tank top before sitting down at his desk to work. The rest of the day seemed to draw out long as the bunker hummed its usual noises. He could hear laughter coming from somewhere in the bunker, no doubt headed by Romeo who seemed endless with his wise cracks and antics. He only heard Evelyn's distinctive mezzo soprano voice yelling for them to be quiet a few times which was always followed up with a unanimous *sorry*. He finished his revision on the profiles he had completed the day before, adding in more information he left out of the initial summary. He checked his emails once more, scanning through the list of other unopened files he had yet to look through. There were field reports, interrogation briefings that he had only been copied on, surveillance summaries, and general questions from training recruits at Section. He mildly went through a few of the questions, answering them in his usual succinct manner before moving on. There was one email from Nikita. He clicked on it and read through her question.

The dialogue was as impersonal as one could be. She simply wanted to know about a profile he had done some months back and how she could access it to review it. There was no warm greeting or endearing goodbye within her very direct words. She might as well have been asking him about the definition of cold with the way she fashioned her email. He answered her neatly, adding nothing more to the email other than what she wanted to know. He signed it off with his name and sent it. The sound of the email being sent off back to Section took a little of his happiness with it as he closed his laptop. He could have done more work, but he no longer felt like it. Nikita's blunt email had kicked him in the gut enough to make him want to distance himself from it and anything attached to it. He stood and wandered out his room, not really aiming towards any one direction. His thoughts swam over many things but never quite landed on a single focus. When he looked up, he found himself outside of Evelyn's office. He peeked in, wondering if she was inside, but found the room empty. He felt a slight twinge of disappointment not finding her there. His eyes began searching the open area of the bunker for her familiar stocky frame. Instead of her, he only saw three other operatives, likely recruits, studying surveillance footage.

His stomach growled, reminding him he had not eaten anything since early that afternoon after clinicals. The stewed meat was flavorful and tasted amazing next to the roasted red potatoes. He had cleard the plate nearly in five bites and had even taken to drinking the stew juice left over from the meat. He had drank the water, but secretly wished he could have more of the red kool-aid from upstairs. Even though it had given him a headache, it tasted delicious. Michael started towards the stairs to head up to the kitchen. Once he got to the cellar door, he could already hear music playing. He went into the hall and walked past the first two bedrooms. Four young men sat on bunkbeds playing video games on the tv. In the next room, two more young men lay on their beds bobbing their heads to whatever music was playing in their headphones. The smell of food cooking met him before he reached the kitchen. It was the distinct scent of hamburger meat cooking with peppers and onions. His stomach gripped him tighter, demanding he eat whatever it was that was being prepared.

In the kitchen, Evelyn and Arlene busied themselves at the stove and counter chopping peppers and onions and sauteeing hamburge meat. Zeke sat at his seat at the table, already devouring four soft shell tacos stuffed full of meat, vegetables, and rice. He barely acknowledged Michael once he entered the room. Michael leaned against the wall and watched as the two women danced around each other as they prepared food. The music blared from a boom box on the opposite counter away from where they were working. He allowed the slight grin as he watched Arlene shuffle about, moving her enormous hips to the hip hop and carribean beat. To be as large as she was, she moved incredibly well. She was smiling as she spun about in her flattened bedroom slippers. She returned to the counter and began chopping more green peppers. At the stove, Evelyn stirred the meat then dumped it into a bowl. She began dancing with Arlene swaying back and forth to the beat. The two of them laughed as they danced before switching places with Arlene now at the stove and Evelyn on the other side of her all within the beat. Their coordination was natural and looked easy with them both in sync with one another. Michael could not help but watch Evelyn's hips as she moved them around in circles to the music. Her movements reminded him of the Arabian belly dancers he once saw during an overnight mission in Iran. He had found that mission particularly challenging as he could not quite keep his eyes from wandering. He had been to many types of clubs and dance halls, lounges and even more than a few brothels, but the Arabian dancers always stuck out from them all.

"You hungry?" Evelyn asked, snatching Michael out of his fantasy.

Michael nodded and sat down at the table. Zeke continued to eat, nodding at Michael before gulping down his drink. Evelyn quickly made him two tacos stuffed to near explosion with meat, peppers, and rice. She asked him what he wanted to drink and he quickly requested the kool-aid, calling it the *red stuff* which brought a smile to Evelyn's face.

"You like the Kool-Aid, huh."

She sat down the full glass, her hand lingering on the glass as he reached for it.

"Now don't drink too much. It might hurt your tummy." She grinned softly before letting go and lightly brushed under his chin with her finger.

Michael considered Evelyn as she walked back to the stove to begin fixing her own plate. His gaze lingered on her back side, noting how well her shorts hugged her frame and accented her round buttocks. The definition of her legs were pronounced even in her well worn combat boots. His eyes followed up her waistline to the small of her back, up over her muscular shoulders, then around to the small bump of her breasts. When she was close to him, he could smell her lotion, a heady mix of cocoa and shea butter that made her smell almost like a bar of succulent chocolate. He licked his lips.

"You gone eat or not?" asked Zeke.

Michael had not noticed that Zeke was staring at him the entire time. He picked up a taco and bit into it, which seemed to both answer Zeke's question and satisfy his expectation. The taco was good, but Michael already knew it was too much flavoring for him. He took his finger and scraped out much of the rice and peppers, careful to try to at least leave the majority of the meat behind. After he finished his plate and drank two glasses of Kool-Aid, he got up from his seat. Evelyn and Arlene were having a lively conversation at the counter, eating their share as they stood. Michael emptied the rest of his plate in the trash and put his plate in sink. He started to wash it when Arlene stopped him.

"No need, baby. I got it. You go on and get ready. You guys have a long night ahead of you."

Michael gave Arlene a small appreciative grin. He looked at Evelyn noticing that she was watching him.

"Anything specific you want me in tonight?" he asked.

Evelyn shrugged. "It's a club. Wear club wear."

Michael nodded and turned on his heels to return downstairs.

"Michael. Don't think too much about it. Just wear something nice," said Evelyn. "I'm sure whatever you put on, you'll look great in it."

Michael nodded and walked down the hall back towards his room. Already down below in the bunker he could hear music playing but not like the music that was playing upstairs in the kitchen. This music was undoubtably more hip hop but still kept a fun element to it. He went towards the quarters, careful not to be seen immediately as he observed the operatives and recruits getting ready for the evening. The song switched to a slower beat which they all recognized immediately and began reciting the lyrics. At first look, the group looked wild and uncontrolled, shirtless and swinging their t-shirts around over their heads. Their energy was bolstered by the song and seemed to climb to near insanity the more versus they recited. By the end of the song, they were so hyped up they were jumping up and down on the beds, shaking their heads, and shoving each other about. Michael quietly backed out, not really wanting to be apart of the song or the shoving. He could honestly say that he had never quite experienced any preparation procedure that involved such aggressive music and energy. He preferred the way Section prepared outtings, in silence with only necessary conversation being spoken and energies reserved. He knew there would be a few things that he would have to try and get used to, but he simply could not make himself get used to that.

At 10pm, Michael sprayed on a quick spritz of Axe deodorant spray and pulled his hair into a ponytail to keep it out of his face. He did not like the idea of going into a mission without anything, but he had to trust that Sanchez would have their weapons ready for them at the booth in the VIP area of the club. He had chosen the cream colored shirt with a pair of tan chinos. The shirt hung loosely on him, but he figured that was how it was supposed to look. When he appeared in the kitchen, Arlene was still washing dishes. She noticed him come in, but had to turn again once it registered who she was looking at.

"Well look at you, sugar! You look like you trying to go to the prom!"

Michael looked around at the curiously empty front room. He had expected to see the team standing in the room waiting to leave, but instead, there was only himself and Arlene in the kitchen. He checked his watch to make sure he was not the one running late or had come up too early to leave. The minute hand had only just past the one minute mark at 10pm.

"Where is everybody?" Michael asked.

"Still downstairs I guess," said Arlene, drying a pot with a towel.

"It's ten o'clock."

"Probably."

"I thought we were supposed to be leaving at ten."

Arlene continued to finish with the dishes. She noticed Michael's slightly perturbed expression and righted herself. She put her fist on her hips.

"Child, they on CP time. You might as well take a seat. They'll be up in a few minutes. Don't worry."

"What's CP time?"

"You don't know...Oh you *real* European." Arlene returned to drying the dishes.

"Does it mean that we're going to be late?" Michael surmised with a slight edge to his tone.

Arlene smiled and winked. "Just a little bit."

Michael grunted and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. It was enough that he had to try and block out the incessant chants being shouted throughout the bunker from the rowdy recruits in the quarters, or the fact that the clothes he wore made him feel sloppy and baggy, but to add being late on the set deployment time was a bit much. He crossed his legs and folded his arms over his chest, trying hard to bite back his aggrevation. There were some things he could live with while being at the Outpost for the time that he was there, but he simply could not deal with the unorganized fashion in which the team seemed to run. Without Evelyn there, they all behaved like unruly children. If they were at Section, all of them would be cancelled. If they weren't cancelled, he would find a way to make them be.

"You look miserable," said Arlene.

She sat down at the table. She fumbled around in the folds of her skirt and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She stuck a slender cigarette between her lips and flicked up a flame to light it. She drew in a long drag, then blew it out in a long seep of smoke. She offered one to Michael who declined it respectfully. She took another drag then leaned forward onto the table, studying Michael's demeanor.

"I see now why she was interested in you," said Arlene.

Michael lifted an eyebrow in interested. "Who?"

"Simone. I kinda get it now. She was always so quiet and reserved. Never said much. She didn't really have to. She said everything with her eyes mostly. Always could tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. It's the same thing with you."

Michael opened his mouth to say something back, but found he had no words. He, instead swallowed his thoughts.

"Yeah," Arlene continued. She blew out another line of smoke. "I get it now. You're probably having a hard time adjusting down there, aren't you. What with all the noise. They're probably driving you crazy."

Michael managed a small smile in acknowledgement. He looked down somewhat bashfully.

"It's not so bad," said Michael quietly.

"Bullshit," said Arlene. "It's like living with teenagers. Loud music, all the yelling and screaming at each other, the constant interruptions. You're probably about one gang bang song away from capping everyone down there, including yourself."

"It's only for another week. I can manage."

Arlene flicked the end of her cigarette ash into the kitchen floor. She took another drag of it, but did not blow all the smoke out.

"I could lend you a room up here if you want it," she said amid the cloud of smoke enveloping her head. "Bed is softer, the room is private, and I'm pretty sure you would much rather prefer a full bathroom instead of that closet you have down there."

"What about the recruits you have up here? Where will they stay?"

"I can move the ones I have up here, down there. It won't be a problem. It'll just be me and you up here and everyone else downstairs. I'll have the room. Especially since three of them won't be coming back after tonight."

Michael frowned a little in his confusion. "Why?"

"Pinky decided that they should be the ones to get sent out on a separate mission to hit a target site. The likelihood of them returning is little to nil, especially since she has pretty much garaunteed that they won't make it back." Arlene's expression was placid as she continued to smoke her cigarette. In that moment, she reminded Michael of Madeline whenever she felt the need to explain details.

"I'm sure she has her reasons," said Michael, not really wanting to know what those reasons could be. It was enough to know that she was ordering such cancellations. It made him wonder what other priveleges had she been awarded while heading up the Outpost.

"I'm sure she did as well. Pinky is never one to cross hairs much. She makes a decision and goes with it fully. She hardly ever changes her mind about anything. You'll learn that the more you work with her. And I guess it's a good thing. I mean, it beats having someone who is indecisive about everything. Does make it hard to convince her of another course of action though. Girl is bull headed if I've never seen one before." Arlene flicked more ash into the floor as if flicking the very thought of Evelyn being hard to deal with out of her thoughts entirely.

"You tried to save the recruits," said Michael.

Arlene thought about the question, leaning back in her chair. "Save them might not be the words I would use. More like...give them one last chance. It was about as much as I could do for them seeing as how they weren't performing to standards. Pinky thought different though, as she always does. Once she gets on that phone and talks to her partner, it's all but said and done after the decision is made. I couldn't help them no more than I could help being fat as hell."

"Who is her partner?"

"Niko," said Arlene. "Pinky says she created Black Skull on her own, but it was really a joint effort. Trio if you include me in the fold. Niko fathered the idea and Pinky just put it into play. I guess you could say Niko would by like your George and Pinky would be your Adrian."

Michael's eyes went a little wide.

"Oh, you didn't know I knew about that did you," said Arlene, her eyes narrowing a little. She blew out a line of smoke. "Oh yeah, I know about them. The same as I know about some other high level Section officers. I've been with Section so long some people think I had something to do with its creation. Thankfully I did not. Course, if I were the one to have created it, Section wouldn't be as dull as it is now. Don't try and sugar coat the truth. You know it's as dull as grass growing in there."

"It's efficient," said Michael somewhat defensively.

"Efficient my ass," Arlene continued. "It's the only place in the world that makes pouring a cup of water a procedural process. You gotta fill out a form to fart."

Michael tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't. He cracked and let slip a short laugh before covering it up entirely with his hands. The absurdity of what Arlene said did have a sliver of truth to it which made it all the more amusing. His gaze cast downward, fondly remembering life at his ultra dull and form filled Section. For all of its constrained rigidity, he could not help but wish for it again. He had become accostomed to its procedures, its protocols, its regulations, documentations, and conformity. It made life for him simple to navigate. All he had to do was follow instructions and he could go on living until the next assignment. As long as he did what he was told, did not back away from mission parameters, and remained loyal, he could live.

Michael's expression changed from gleeful laughter to sorrowful realization. Section had become his second life after his first was taken from him. He had become what Section wanted him to be. The perfect robo-man. He did not feel. He did not speak unless necessary. He did not move unless directed. He did not form any relationships that were not first approved by Section. He certainly did not love anyone unless commanded to do so. If that was going to be life for him, he thought, he might as well be dead. Jurgen had said so himself that he was dead inside. He had told him that very thing long before there ever was a Nikita, when he went to him to ask him about Simone. He had felt awkward turning to Jurgen for help with an emotional matter, but he had no one else to turn to. Madeline had just given him a blood covering assignment to which there was no definite end. He would always have this assignment for as long as Section deemed it necessary. Michael knew that it would be in direct conflict with his relationship with Simone who, at the time, was pregnant. They were hiding the pregnancy from Section in hopes that they might be able to keep the child after it was born. Michael went to Jurgen to ask for help and Jurgen berated him instead. That was when he learned of Elena's pregnancy. Michael had not known that the wife that Section gave to him as an assignment was carrying his child right along with his real wife. Section did not bother to do anything about Elena's pregnancy stating that the new baby might draw out her father, their actual target. He did not show up to the wedding. They hoped he might show up to the birth of the new baby.

Simone would have been heartbroken to discover that Michael was going to be father to another woman's baby. It would have further pressed in the notion that he was sleeping with the both of them. He could explain all day that it was only part of his assignment, that he *had* to make it real for the sake of the mission, but it would not take away the sting of betrayal. Compounding the problem, Simone's own pregnancy was problematic. She no longer could perform in her duties with Section and had to be deactivated until after the child was born. Section came down hard on Michael for carrying on with an unauthorized relationship with a fellow operative. They called it a Type 1 Directive. He had only vaguely heard about it, but never quite studied its exact verbage enough to understand how to get around it. He and Simone were not the first operatives to find love within Section, but it seemed they were the only ones that Madeline made it her mission to destroy. Once Simone gave birth, they were understandably fearful of what Section would order them do in order to maintain the integrity of the team. At first, things were normal enough. Simone stayed home with the baby and remained inactive until her six weeks were up. Once her time was finished, she was to return to Section and begin reprogramming. Their child would have to be sent off to a distant relative, someone who could be trusted to look after the child, but they would have no further contact with the baby once this happened.

Simone was against it from the start.

She wanted Michael to leave Section with her, but he had parried her suggestion off and told her it was not the right timing. He would make her wait forever if he had to in order to be sure he could button up things at Secton with little to no bloodshed. Leaving Section also meant leaving behind the one child he knew they would do all within their neverending vessels of power to keep. The baby he had with Simone was not authorized, and therefore, could be subject to elimination. Even while Michael managed to successfully complete all his tasks at Section, maintain a believable relationship with a pregnant Elena, and come home to Simone to be a doting father and husband, Section still felt that he was not devoting all his efforts towards their goals. A few weeks after Simone gave birth to a little boy, he received a frantic call from Simone with the most horrid news he could ever hear.

His four week old baby boy was dead.

Simone was beside herself with grief, as was Michael. There was no reason given why the infant died, only that it had to have been SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. At first, Michael blamed Simone for allowing it to happen, thinking she must have been careless when putting the baby to bed. Maybe she left a blanket over his face, or did not put the bumpers on the rails safely enough, or maybe she just put too many bears in the bed with the infant which suffocated him. Whatever the case was, he blamed her for it. Simone denied having done anything to the baby. She was always a good, responsible wife and mother. She would never do anything to hurt her own child. And yet, the baby was dead and there was no explanation as to why. There was no bringing him back. The days after were long and hellish. He could not even hold a proper funeral for the child. It had been labeled as a *Misappropriation of Section Resources Already Predetermined". In other words, what was Michael's body belonged to Section and he was not free to use it however he pleased. Anything that came from him belonged to Section and *they* determined its use. Jurgen had told Michael of this, but he had not listened. He wanted to continue believing that he still had a choice. Michael suspected Section had something to do with the death of his son because of the context of his last conversation with Operations. He had demanded that Michael do something about Simone and the baby or else he would. Michael had taken the threat to heart, but did nothing. It was after this that Simone began talking about getting away from Section. Then the fatal mission with Glass Curtain came...

"You should smile more, sugar. It fits your face," said Arlene.

"I don't really have a whole lot to smile about."

"Then smile about the few things you do have. Why do you think that clowns paint smiles on their faces? They could be broken inside, but the world will never know because all they see is a big grin."

Arlene finished her cigarette and took the burned bud over to the sink. She ran some water over it before throwing it in the trash. She then grabed the broom and began sweeping up her ashes from the floor. Behind him, he could hear footsteps coming into the hallway. A moment later, Zeke, Tarek, and Romeo appeared dressed in their club wear. Zeke chose to put on yet another red tank top and a pair of black jeans. His one grey eye looked over towards Michael. He then went to Arlene and gave her a kiss on her cheek. In turn, she swatted at his backside with her dish towel. Tarek had pulled his dreads back into a low ponytail. He wore a rainbow colored button down left untucked over a pair of regal blue oversized jeans. Romeo followed after wearing the same shirt with the dragon on the back that he had selected for Michael in the store. It fit loosely on his frame, but somehow seemed to be suited perfectly for him. He looked easy and effortless in the silken monstrosity. He smelled faintly of cologne and scented body wash. He had groomed his mustache and brushed down his short hair so that it gave the appearance of waves at the very top of his head. When he saw Michael, he smiled as if recognizing an old friend.

Michael looked over Romeo noticing his overall attractiveness. It was not his humor that made him beautiful, but rather his stillness. When he wasn't moving around so much, he was, in his way, elegant and sensual. With a little bit more refinement, some basic etiquette training, and maybe a wardrobe overhaul, he could be a very successful Valentine. Even though he hoped he would never get roped into being one, he knew if he ever did, he would like to be the one to train him. He would never allow any of the other operatives to put a finger on him.

"Yo! Let's be out like bathroom tissue!" Romeo started towards the door.

"Hold up! You can't leave without your gear," called Arlene. She began rummaging around in the counter drawer and pulled out a jumble of radio transmitters.

They really do just keep everything in a drawer somewhere in the kitchen, Michael thought as he watched Arlene pull out four clips. She handed them off to the group. Michael took his clip and radio transmitter. He placed the radio over his ear and stuffed the clip in his pocket, concealed under the bulk of his shirt.

"The security are paid off, so you won't have to worry about them doing a thorough pat down. Sanchez is already inside. She has your booth set up with your guns and extra clips. Once you're inside, you'll need to tune to channel two so that Priest can link you all together. You'll probably be in there a while because we don't know when Box Boy is going to show. All we know is that he is going to be there tonight with a fairly large entourage."

"Do we know if his entourage is carrying as well?" asked Michael.

"Probably. The security there is balls. I mean, we didn't have to pay the guy at the door much to let us carry in. If you ask me, I think we wasted our money paying him. I don't think he would have given a fuck if we came in there with grenades hanging off our necks," said Arlene.

Michael nodded. He straightened out his shirt and started out the door behind the rest of the group. He turned back to Arlene.

"Where is Evelyn? Is she not coming?"

"She will be there. She just has something to take care of before she gets there. Don't worry, she will be there for support."

Michael had been to plenty of clubs, and for the most part he knew somewhat of what to expect. He had been to dance halls that were just as lively outside waiting in line to get in as they were inside. He was used to the women being scantily clad, and the men looking hungrily at them. He was used to the suit and tie crowd, the loose shirt and pants pack, and even the nothing on at all throng, but pulling up to The Den, he knew he was going to be entering a world he had not seen before. The mass of people waiting to get in were mainly made up of latino, black, and a few white women and men. There were some dressed in suit and tie, while others were comfortable in street wear. The women ranged from short skirts and bra tops to bodycon dresses, tight jeans, and high heels. He could feel their eyes on him as he walked up to the front of the line along with the rest of the team. The music inside rumbled sending trembles through Michael as he drew closer to the door. Tarek handed the bouncer their VIP pass and the bouncer opened the velvet rope to let them inside. There were a few audible complaints being heard from the line. One girl reached out and grabbed Michael's hand. He turned and saw her pretty eyes staring at him with hopeful questioning. Silently, she opened her shirt a little more, revealing a little more of her breasts. She licked her lips suggestively.

"C'mon man," said Romeo, reaching back for Michael. He saw what he was looking at. "Damn! Well al'right then!"

Michael reached for the young lady's hand and kissed it. He turned and followed the rest of the group inside. Romeo, still looking at the young woman, skipped up next to Michael.

"I swear man, you got that juju or something. Everywhere you go, ladies be falling victim. I need what you got. You just kissed that chick's hand and she ready to have your babies now."

"You really don't need anything," said Michael, having to raise his voice a little as they entered the club. "Everything you need, you already have. You just have to learn how to use it."

"Don't get me wrong, I know I'm fly. I get my fair share, but it just seems like every chick you meet can't help themselves around you. I want that kind of effect. I want that panty droppin spell you got."

Michael turned to Romeo and put a hand on his shoulder so that he gained his full attention.

"You got it already. You don't have to do anything. Stop trying so hard. In fact, don't try at all. You're fine just the way you are. Your only problem is that you talk to much. Just stop talking. The less you say, the better."

Romeo looked unnerved for a moment, sensing more in Michael's words than what he was comfortable with handling. The lights played in his light eyes, as he stared into them. The haziness of the club's atomosphere started to make Michael appear nearly ethereal. For a long and somewhat uncomfortable moment, they stared at each other, Michael intentionally keeping intense contact with him. Romeo moved away his eyes, trying to look like his attention was drawn elsewhere. Michael patted him on the shoulder and moved away from him and into the crowd, leaving Romeo to try and make sense of what just happened. Michael returned his focus back inside the club and back to the mission objective. He scanned over the mass of moving bodies wondering how they might track the one called Box Boy among so many people.

He secretly hated these type of missions. It put him in direct contact with people he had no interest in being near. Certainly there was a lot vying for his attention. From the sexy bodies dancing all about him, the heart pounding latin beat, to the lights flashing into every corner, his senses felt overwhelmed. He moved further in, now searching for the booth where they were supposed to make their first position. Already, Zeke and Tarek had made it to the booth and were drinking. Zeke looked afraid to move as he clutched his beer with one massive hand. His different colored eyes scanned over the crowd not really focusing on any one thing in the room. Tarek, on the other hand, seemed more interested in watching the women then looking for their target.

Michael reached the booth and felt around on the back of the seats for the clips that were hidden there. He found one clip and stuffed it in his back pocket. Tarek had already found the guns and handed Michael one. Michael took the clip he had under his shirt and snapped it in place and chambered the first shot. Sanchez walked up with a tray of drinks. She came close to Michael and handed him a vodka tonic with a lime slice. Her eyes lingered long on him as he took the drink in hand.

"Has he been spotted yet?" Michael asked. He repositioned the pistol under his shirt once more as he studied the club.

"Not yet," said Sanchez. "He'll be here, though."

"We should spread out. Cover all points."

Michael reached for his radio unit and studied it a moment. It was an older communicator, one that resembled a bluetooth ear bud. There was only one button to press to turn it on, but from there, he was a little confused. Sanchez set down her tray and took the transmitter. She pressed the button a series of times, listened to make sure it was on the right frequency, then handed it back to Michael. He took it back and positioned it in his ear. He spoke for a test and heard back Priest's crackled response, but it was too loud. Michael grimaced from the sound hurting his ears. Priest tried to tell Michael how to adjust the volumn, but it only came back as disjointed crackling.

"I can't hear anything," Michael complained.

"Here, let me adjust it for you," said Sanchez, taking it back from him.

She made another series of presses before handing it back to Michael. He tested it again and got back a much more clear response from Priest. He nodded at Sanchez. She lingered a bit longer before him, looking at him fully before grabbing her tray. Michael noticed how she bent seductively in front of him as she lifted her tray and sauntered off into the crowd again.

The music continued with an incessant heart thumping beat bolstered by the heavy sound of base reverberating over the walls. The dance floor was crowded with shaking and moving bodies pressed against one another whether by purpose or incidentally. They were a massive moving, breathing, undulating being controlled by the thundering hip hop and cuban fusion beat. Each song bled into the next mixing spanish lyrics with rap until they were both indecipherable from one another. The DJ sat high up over the dance floor calling out different parts of the song and effectively hyping the crowd. There was no denying the energy in the room. Even Michael felt a slight twinge inside as he watched three women begin to move their bodies seductively in plain view of a group of men sitting at a table close to the dance floor. Their bodies moved around each other like snakes twisting together, then in perfect coordination, they lined themselves up and bent forward, waggling their backsides in tempo to the music. The men at the table were transfixed, hitting one another in their excitement and making lewd gestures at the three women.

Michael sighed. He studied the men to see if any of them fit the description of Box Boy, but found none of them fit his profile. He moved on to another group of people in another corner of the club. Among the throng, he spotted Romeo sandwiched between to women and looking like he was having the time of his life. He hit his radio unit to speak.

"Focus on the sides. The target has not yet been spotted," Michael reminded the team.

Tarek moved from where he was standing and crossed over to a different part of the bar. Zeke remained standing at the booth, sneering out into the crowd. Romeo apologized to the women and excused himself to return to his post near the door. Michael moved from the booth to another part of the dance floor closer to the DJ booth. From his vantage point, he could see much of the club. More people were beginning to file inside as the security guards loosely patted each person down. A particularly large group of men walked in looking quite serious and intimidating. They maneuvered over towards a booth and took their seats. Sanchez walked over to them and began taking their drink order. A few of the men acted fresh towards her, daring to grab her backside as she passed them. She expertly maneuvered around them, giving them a look that clearly told them they should keep their hands to themselves. Once she was done with their orders, she returned to the bar to collect. Michael moved over to Sanchez.

"Recognize anyone there?"

"Two on the left are body guards. The rest are friends. Guy in the middle might be him, but I'm not sure. I didn't get a real good look at him."

"You think you could get back over there close? Close enough to see?"

Sanchez began helping the bartender make the drinks. "When I deliver their drinks, I'll try and get his attention. If I can get him to look at me, I might can ID him."

"Okay."

Sanchez cut a quick look at Michael before gathering her tray and making her way back over to the booth. Michael returned to his spot near the DJ booth and continued to scan the crowd as well as watch out for Sanchez's progress. At the moment, she was doing a great job delivering drinks, but not doing such a good job at keeping the men off of her. Finally, after one of the men tried to pull her over to him, she lost her cool and reacted. She spun around and began shouting curses at the young man. Michael clenched his jaw, watching the scene play through. Sanchez continued to scream at the guy that pulled on her. Before long, one of the club bouncers approached the booth. The men all rallied around their friend and demanded Sanchez leave their booth. The bouncer led Sanchez away while the men chided and berated her. Sanchez was led to the back of the club looking angered and frustrated.

"Sanchez is out," Michael said flatly. "Target still not identified."

"What do you mean Sanchez is out?" Evelyn's voice came over the radio.

Michael searched the crowd but did not find her anywhere.

"She lost her cool and got kicked out the booth. She has not identified the target yet. We are unsure which one is Box Boy."

An audible huff was heard on the other end. Michael looked over at the group of men sitting at the booth. His gut was telling him that their target was among them, but he could not for certain know which one it was. He looked down and saw Romeo also looking at the group of men, but unable to make any moves. The team was at a stand still.

"Everyone stay where you are. I'm coming in," said Evelyn.

"What are you going to do?" asked Michael.

"I'mma draw him out."

"How?"

Evelyn did not respond. Romeo found his way over towards Michael. He looked at him then folded his arms, taking on the same stance as him. Michael cut a slight glance at Romeo, and smirked in amusement.

"So what are we going to do now?" Romeo asked.

"Evelyn says she is coming in."

"What is she going to do?"

"I don't know yet."

Romeo nodded, but he was just as confused as Michael was. The music changed to a slightly slower beat and the lights changed to red. At the door, more people flooded in. Michael looked over at the group of men noticing that they were looking at something intently. He tracked their line of vision and saw someone climb up on a raised platform. The woman there began dancing, moving her taut body around to the thudding beat. She wore a bra top made of diamond like studs, a pair of skin tight black liquid leggings and strappy silver high heel sandals. She wore a long silver chain that connected to a belly chain around her waist. As she moved, the definition in her legs became pronounced in the leggings. She turned and dropped down to a squat, accenting her round buttocks exquisitely. Her movements were like sex in the way she rolled her hips and swayed back and forth to the music.

Romeo suddenly became more than animated as he noticed who it was that everyone was looking at.

"Man! I respect Miss E and everything, but she *just don't know*! She be messing with a nigga mind sometimes!"

"What?" Michael had not realize he was breathing a little heavier watching the woman dance.

"That's Miss E up there," said Romeo.

"What she doing?" Michael said within a breath.

"Poppin that ass!" Romeo began to laugh. "And getting every nigga in here all hot and bothered."

"How is this supposed to work?" Michael could not pull his eyes away from Evelyn as she continued her sultry dance.

"Usually, if a girl gets up there and she's hot enough, she'll get a request to go into the VIP. If she can get in there, she can ID the target," Romeo explained.

"Will this work? I mean...is she hot enough?"

Michael could hear himself speaking, but his mind was on something completely off mission. He swallowed hard, feeling somewhat parched. He remembered then that he had a drink in his hand. He took a long gulp. The song switched to a different song, but still maintained the same beat. Evelyn continued to dance, oscillating her hips and rubbing down her thighs with her hands. Her lower half seemed to move independently from her upper half, bouncing in such a way that made anyone watching move their head up and down with her hips. Michael did not notice that Romeo was staring at him the entire time, grinning his amusement.

"What do *you* think?" asked Romeo.

Michael bit his bottom lip, no longer trying now to break his concentration from Evelyn. He drank slowly, allowing himself to enjoy this small moment of titilation. He had seen many women dance, had even danced with them, but he had not ever been so hypnotized by the movements of a woman's hips the way that he was with Evelyn. He had seen her before dressed in far less, and yet what she had on practically accented every alluring curve she owned. He began to dream of her again, her body pressed up close to his and her legs encaging him and not allowing him to escape. He would not want to. He would want to be forever trapped within the confines of her thighs and locked in her heated grip.

"She's been requested," said Tarek over the radio.

Evelyn climbed down from the platform and followed a guard over to the booth where the group of men sat waiting in anxious anticipation of her. Michael tracked them, already feeling himself tense as he waited to see what would happen next. He could not stand these moments, standing on the sidelines as he watched his counterpart navigate the dangerous waters to either tag or identify a target. He could lose count of how many times he felt tense whenever he had to watch Nikita work a target with him only steps away. Even though he knew she could take care of herself, and often did, he still did not like having her in such situations. He always wanted to shield her somehow from those type of missions even when he knew she would object to him doing so. He felt the same feelings now with Evelyn about to go into what could only be described as a snake pit. He could see the men already salivating as Evelyn made her way over to them.

Once there, Evelyn greeted the entourage with only a slight wave. She then focused her attention to the one guy that wasn't standing and crowding her. He was a slender guy dressed in oversized graphic t-shirt and baggy jeans with colorful graffiti scrawled down the legs. He had on a baseball cap pulled down nearly over his eyes, effectively shielding his face. He was drinking a bottle of Cristal and smoking what looked like a blunt. He gently waved Evelyn over closer to him. His body language suggested he was relaxed and open to suggestion as he sat slumped down in the seat with his legs slightly open. The rest of his friends crowded around shielding Evelyn from view.

"Tarek. Move to first position. Keep an eye on Evelyn," Michael commanded.

"Zeke is already at first," said Tarek.

"Move to first." Michael did not want to say that he did not fully trust Zeke to act when needed. He still looked like he was frozen and had not finished the beer he was given at the beginning of the evening.

"Okay, whatever," Tarek responded. He began to make his way back to the booth.

Michael leaned over to Romeo.

"Stay here."

"Why?" asked Romeo even though he was quite comfortable where he was watching the women dance just below him.

"Just stay here. Keep an eye on the door."

Romeo nodded. Michael gave him a cross look, knowing that he would have better luck telling a parakeet to watch the door what with Romeo already distracted by the dancers. He moved to a different position slightly closer to the VIP area. He fixed himself at the bar and ordered another drink, this time, an orange juice. The bartender gave him a curious look before preparing the drink. He slid it over to Michael who took it and sipped it slowly, keeping his eye on the VIP area. The music continued with another song, one with a similar slow tempo encouraging dancers to pair up. Two women came up to the bar giggling as they screeched their order for two sex on the beach drinks. One looked at Michael and smiled.

"Don't you love sex on the beach?" she asked. Her friend giggled with delight.

Michael did not give them any indication that he was paying any attention to them at all. He continued to stare at the VIP section hoping to see that Evelyn was okay and possibly able to ID their target. The girls continued to laugh, falling over one another drunkenly. They got their drinks. One girl started back out onto the dance floor. The other lingered, still trying to gain Michael's attention.

"I like sex on the beach," she continued, rolling the straw with her tongue. "It's so sweet and salty. Are you sweet and salty?"

Michael took a moment to address the girl. He looked over at her, his expression reading nothing. The simple land of his eyes on her made her pause a moment, temporarily captured by his gaze. He dismissed her quickly, removing his attention purposefully from her and returning it back to the VIP section. The girl first looked surprised that he looked at her with such serious eyes, then angered that he was obviously not interested. She looked over where he was staring and realized quickly what had his full attention.

"Of course you'd want the bitch with the big ass booty, wouldn't you." The girl sneered. "News flash, it's probably implants."

The girl stomped off, grumbling to herself. Michael continued to watch as Evelyn began to dance in front of the skinny baggy dude on the couch. The rest of the entourage took their seats once more and continued to jeer and express their excitement. As the song played, Michael noticed that Evelyn was moving about extremely seductively, her expression stating that she was clearly into the song and its lyrics, nearly performing the acts the lyrics suggested. He also noticed that her eyes were staring out directly towards him. He watched her more closely, realizing that she wasn't just staring out towards him, but she was actually staring *at* him while she moved her body. He locked eyes with her as she performed not for the men she was around, but for him. Once again, he could not tear his eyes away, and this time he did not have to. She had identified who their target was by purposefully dancing in front of him.

"Target Identified," Michael said. "It's the guy in the baseball hat behind Evelyn. Get ready to move once the song is finished."

Tarek and Romeo confirmed and moved to their next positions near the restrooms. Zeke continued to stand fixed where he had always been. Michael wondered if Zeke even knew that he was supposed to be watching Evelyn. From the way the large man was standing clutching his beer, he likely had become overwhelmed by the chaotic scene of dancers to even notice that he was there for a mission. Meanwhile, Evelyn continued to dance, her eyes steady on Michael.

For a brief moment, Michael had to catch his breath. Watching Evelyn give the target a lap dance caused him to fantasize even more. She licked her tongue out and softly bit her bottom lip as she rolled her body in a gentle seductive wave. The men all around her could not contain themselves and moved in to touch her. The target gruffly waved them off as he wanted the dance to be all his and was not interested in sharing with them. But he was sharing with someone, Michael thought and internally became aroused. He knew that whatever she was doing in front of the target, she was really doing for him. Her eyes told on her, giving Michael all the reassurance he needed to know that her attraction to him was not just in his imagination. Her slight affections towards him was her way of telling him that she was into him. She could never be outwardly obvious about it for fear it would make things awkward whenever she had to give commands. Her intense focus on him let him know that all she was doing, the body movements and looks, was all for *his* enjoyment, not the others. She was using the men and the target to capture her own personal prey. Michael did not care about being caught looking. He wanted her to know that he was seeing her and had seen her long before she made it to the club. Seeing her dance only made it that much more difficult to restrain himself from doing what his body was becoming desperate to do. It had been awhile since he had felt any kind of sexual awakening, even when he was with his assigned wife. He performed for her mainly out of obligation towards the continued illusion of marital bliss, but it had been a long while since he felt any real desire.

He had felt it when he met Nikita. The feeling grew the more he was around her, which was nearly every waking hour in the beginning. When she disappeared, his desire only intensified, wanting more than anything to gain her back to him. When he finally did find her, he did not hold himself back. Now that he was without her once more, his desire did not wane, but became a bit more hostile to the idea that he still could not have her even after he had gone through hurdles and hell flames to find her. Even after he had killed and lied and manipulated everything and everyone to keep their affair a secret. His desire to have her was making him desperate and afriad of losing her in plain sight. He could not accept anything that told him that he could not have her. Nothing but her flat out refusal of him would set him off his dangerous course. But had not Nikita done just that? Refused him? She chose Jurgen, of all people, to set her sights towards, and when he was taken away, she focused herself on becoming a better operative, rather than on him. His heart was wounded and bleeding inside and he had nowhere to go with it. He began then to wonder if Madeline and Operations had both seen this and decided to show him some mercy by delivering him into the hands of this earth goddess that could move her body in ways that baffled the mind. If Charlie needed to destroy him, Simone needed to teach him, Elena needed to discover him, and Nikita needed to need him, perhaps Evelyn only needed to have him. He did not want someone to destroy him, or teach him anything. He was not interested in being discovered, nor did he want to be needed in the way that Nikita was trying to make him be to her. He only wanted to belong to someone completely. He wanted someone to own his soul, not leave it in the care of Section where it could be abused and neglected. He wanted someone to care for him, even in the smallest of ways like brushing his hair out his eyes, or smiling at him from across the room when they knew he was watching them. He had never asked for someone like Evelyn, yet she was there anyway, ready to pick up what was left of his blackened heart.

Michael finished his juice and paid his tally. He saw that Evelyn was now sitting on the target's lap holding him in deep conversation. The two of them then got up from their seat and began making their way out of the VIP section. Michael watched as Evelyn led the target towards the back where the bathrooms were located. Romeo and Tarek followed after. Michael unglued himself from the bar and went after them. Evelyn led the target into the men's bathroom under the premise that she would do something sexual for him. The target followed, shuffling his feet and trying to keep up with Evelyn's normal gait to get to where she was going quickly. The two of them made it inside the restroom with Michael following to camp next to the door. He heard some commotion in the bathroom. It sounded like the target had become aggressive and was trying to get Evelyn to do something for him. Evelyn could be heard saying no, not tonight, but the target insisted that now was the perfect time. Michael concluded that the situation had died down when he could no longer hear any further argument from the target. Across the club, the entourage rose to their feet and began to head out of the club. A moment later, Evelyn emerged from the bathroom looking as if she were slightly irritated but fine, more or less. She went past Michael without looking at him. The target remained in the bathroom.

"Tarek and Zeke," Michael called. "I need a pickup."

"We're coming," said Tarek over the radio.

Michael went into the restroom and spotted Box Boy hanging over the sink looking a bit worse for wear. He was sweating profusely and swaying as if suffering from vertigo. The concotion that was supposed to go in his drink had been injected directly into his vein making the effects nearly immediate. Michael put one arm around the man's waist and threw the other over his shoulder. He began pulling him out the bathroom, dragging his lifeless feet behind him. Outside the bathroom, Zeke and Tarek stood waiting. Michael handed the nearly unconscious man over to them. Zeke tossed the man over his shoulder and carried him towards the back of the club to the exit there.

"See you at the flower shop," said Tarek. "Tell Evelyn we'll call her once we get set up there."

Michael nodded and went back inside the club to find Evelyn. After a few short moments of searching, he spotted her speaking with Romeo. He made his way to them and waited until they finished their conversation.

"Just go back with them and help," Evelyn was saying. "I'll be fine."

"What about Michael?" asked Romeo. "He rode with us. Priest and Sanchez have already left."

"He can ride with me then. It's not a problem." Evelyn looked over at Michael. "Besides, we need to talk anyway."

Romeo looked from Evelyn to Michael then back, understanding. A look crossed his face as he nodded and began backing away. He bid them both a good night, emphasizing the word *good* before disappearing into the crowd. Evelyn looked after Romeo for a moment before turning her attention back to Michael.

"You dance?" she asked.

Michael shook his head no slowly.

"Me either, at least not to this," said Evelyn, obviously joking. "C'mon. Let's go. My feet hurt."

Evelyn grabbed Michael's hand and pulled him along with her as she made her way through the crowd. Once outside, Michael followed Evelyn to her parked vehicle, a glossy black Jeep Wrangler. She had pulled the top off leaving the interior of the SUV open. Michael could not deny the fact that the vehicle sort of fit her in a strange sort of way. The idea of its hard utilitarian features paired with her tremendously sexy appearance produced an interesting picture. He watched her as she climbed effortlessy into the seat of the lifted vehicle and took her position in it as if expertly conducting a tank. He got into the passenger seat and buckled in, noticing that Evelyn didn't really do the same. Instead, she started the ignition, threw the truck in gear, and peeled out of the parking lot with little care for her saftey or anyone else's for that matter. They drove in silence for a moment before Evelyn began fiddling with the radio.

"You like R 'n' B?" she asked as she flipped through different channels on the radio.

"Is that like what we were listening to in the club?" Michael asked.

"No," Evelyn smiled. "That definitely was not R 'n' B. That was booty music. I'm talking like Al Green, Usher, or Boyz 2 Men. Do you like them?"

"I don't know them," Michael said, shaking his head.

"Oh, well..." Evelyn thought a moment. She reached down under her seat and pulled out a CD case. She put it in her lap and used one hand to open it while she continued to drive with the other.

Michael began to feel a little nervouse as the truck swerved slightly off the road before regaining its position in the lane. He looked over at Evelyn as she flipped through pages of CDs before coming to a page with the CD she wanted to listen to. She slipped it out of its sleeve and pushed it into the CD player on the dashboard.

"You might like this one," said Evelyn as she pressed play. "It's kinda bluesy, real chill, not too aggressive. You don't strike me as the type to like really aggressive music."

"Not really."

"I didn't think so," said Evelyn. She leaned back a little in her seat and finally put both hands on the steering wheel.

The music began, a funky guitar riff with fingers snapping a beat followed up with a lyrical rap by a rapper at the beginning of the song. A few seconds later, another artist began to sing in a falsetto over top an electric guitar being plucked. Michael noticed Evelyn vibing to the music, slightly swaying as she drove. He was not particularly interested in the song, but it was certainly a bit better than what Romeo was playing in his car and miles away from the chaotic rhythms of the club. He closed his eyes, enjoying the rush of air blowing through his hair. The next song began to play, an easy tempo with a very blues and lounge feeling. He could imagine a smoke filled bar with wooden tables and sticky floors, a glass of well aged whiskey and flavored cigars smoking on the table.

He felt a hand on his thigh.

He opened his eyes and looked down to see Evelyn's slender fingers lightly touching the outter part of his leg. He looked at her and met her eyes.

"We're here."

Evelyn got out of the truck. Michael looked up and noticed they were not at a flower shop but at an apartment complex. He got out of the vehicle and looked about him with some trepedation. Evelyn crossed over and waved for him to follow her. She walked briskly, pulling keys from a small purse she now had on her shoulder. They went up a flight of stairs before moving through a short breezeway towards her apartment door. She opened it and walked inside. Michael lingered a moment before entering, not understanding where he was or why. Evelyn tossed her keys on the counter and went into the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home for a moment. I'm just going to get out of these clothes real quick. I won't be long," said Evelyn as she started to drink a soda from the fridge. "You want something?"

Michael shook his head no, still looking about at the apartment. There was an airy scent in the air creating a calming ambience in the equally subdued decorations in the living room. Nearly everything was cream colored accented with mauve and green and yellow colors. He took a seat on the over stuffed cream colored couch and immediately wished that he hadn't. The soft cushions closed around him and threatened to hold him there forever. He could see himself simply not moving from where he sat and falling asleep for eternity there. Evelyn moved quickly through the room and stopped at her stereo system. She flipped a switch and the apartment became filled with more of the same music they were listening to in the car. For a moment, she began to dance again, moving her hips around as if unaware that Michael was directly behind her watching her. She turned, her eyes closed a moment, as she moved to the music. She two stepped her way back down the hall disappearing into her bedroom. Michael sat, not really knowing what to do with himself. He was fighting sleep as it had come in a hurry to sit down next to him.

He flipped out his phone and took note of the time. It was nearly 1am. Unless he was doing something at Section, he was normally in bed by now. He closed his eyes a moment, no longer trying to resist the pull of sleep. He figured he could rest his eyes a moment while Evelyn changed clothes. The music continued to play, switching from R 'n' B to more authentic jazz. After a while, the music was only jazz, slow and peaceful. Michael drew in long breaths. He felt someone sit down next to him and softly brush a tuff of hair out of his face. He knew it was Evelyn again, lightly touching his face, allowing her fingers to brush delicately over his ear. He could feel her touch lingering a bit along his jaw line, then down the length of his neck, and over his shoulders. She pressed in, massaging the muscles there. Michael let out a small grunt in response to the pleasurable pressure. He felt her hands move to his other shoulder, massaging him now on both sides, running her fingers expertly up the sides of his neck then back down.

"Move up a little," Evelyn instructed as she pushed in closer to him.

Michael obediently moved and groaned softly as her hands began kneading in between his aching shoulder blades and down into his lower back. The sensation was like heaven as she worked each muscle under her fingertips. His groans and moans were pouring out of him with no desire to control them. It had been a while since he had a massage. Section had masseuses available, but he never went to them. He never liked the idea of someone strange touching him especially in ways that could easily make his body react in a manner that might be misconstrued. He simply lived with his aches and pains hoping to soak the majority of them out with long salt baths and hot showers. Evelyn's touch far surpassed all the baths and showers he had ever taken. It seemed she was pushing out every care and trouble he ever had. Her touch, along with the music, and her sudden scent of chocolate began to make him feel lost in a wonderful, beautiful world. He felt her move again, her fingers now focused on the front of his shoulders. Her body now rested on his thighs, straddling him. He opened his eyes to see her freshly cleaned face staring down at him with concentrated intensity as her hands worked over his shoulders and neck, down his chest and over his ribs. She was dressed in only a fuzzy soft white bathrobe. At some point she had taken a quick shower and now smelled of her bar soap and scented lotion. She slipped a little and Michael reached to steady her, his hands cupping her backside. She reacted with a slight grin, welcoming his touch. She continued to massage him, pulling out more soft moans.

Unexpectedly, Michael felt himself move. He looked up at Evelyn wondering if she felt it as well. The expression on her face told him that she did and that she did not mind it. She pulled in closer to him, reaching down his back to rake her fingers up his muscles on his flank and over his shoulders once more. The feeling made him arch up towards her where her lips were waiting to brush lightly over the side of his face. Michael closed his eyes, beginning to breathe heavier now, knowing that he was about to lose control over himself. His body was screaming at him to take her. To rip away her robe and give to her what she was so obviously asking for. Yet, he wanted to stop himself. He could not be sure that was what she wanted, even though all the signs were there. The music, her touching him, sitting on his lap nearly naked, smelling of vanilla and chocolate, all told him she wanted him. He could not deny that he wanted her, too. It had been a passing thought in his mind for a little while now. He had not given it much energy until tonight. Seeing her in her bra top and skin tight pants dancing in a way that he knew was meant for him, confirmed it. He felt himself move again, now pressing towards his desire.

She pulled him in closer, crushing his head into the folds of her robe so that he was bombarded by her scent. Her fingers pulled through his hair causing his entire body to react and shudder. His lips found her skin and slowly pulled across her. She situated herself heavily on him, grinding herself into him so that there was little more seperating him from her than the bit of clothing between them. His hands gripped her backside tighter pulling her further towards him so that she now pressed hard against him. He licked the center of her chest finishing with a kiss just below her throat. She moaned softly and returned with a lick to his earlobe and over the ridge of his ear. She began to move her hips, recreating the same motions he saw her perform at the club, only this time, he could feel her on him. The music seemed to follow along, urging them to continue, to go further as they sat entangled on the couch.

He slid a little further down so that she was on top of him squarely. He reached up and took hold of her face to pull her down into his waiting mouth. He engulfed her fully, hungrily sucking at her as his hands ran down her shoulders, pulling away the robe. His fingers cruised over her body, exploring her curves, allowing himself to fully experience her flesh. His thumb cruised over the small nubs of her nipples then caressed them completely. He continued to hold her in his kiss while he worked his way down further, now rubbing at her thighs. He realized then that she wasn't wearing anything under the robe. She was completely naked and already slightly wet with anticipation for him.

Michael had enough teasing. He wanted out of his clothes, out of his confinement and into her welcoming warmth. He knew he should stop himself, but he didn't want to. She was ready for him and had been ready for some time now. He could have her if he wanted her. She was giving herself to him freely. If she was giving herself, he was going to gladly take it. After a quick moment of fumbling, tearing away clothing and pulling off garments, he was finally able to indulge in his deeper fantasies. She rested back on top of him, opening her legs wide to receive him. She came to him gradually, pressing down in such an exscruciatingly slow way that he nearly lost all restraint. He fought hard not to just ram into her. She seemed to want to feel him thoroughly, all parts of him in a way that made him feel like screaming out. Instead, he could only grunt his pleasure, biting his lip in response. This seemed to excite her more as she began sliding herself up and down him with deliberate delayed motion. He gripped her hips once more and guided her, following her movements with his hips. As they moved together, he could tell she was beginning to lose herself as well. Her head went back between her shoulders as she braced herself against his knees. He continued to use one hand to hold her in place as the other gently rubbed over her frame. He touched her lips and allowed her to capture his finger to suck it.

She moved forward, pressing herself against his chest. He turned and flipped her so that he was now on top. He stared a moment into her eyes, seeing her expression of anticipation and ecstasy playing there. In this position, he was dominant and he knew exactly what she wanted from him. She wanted him to take her completely, to destroy what she was and make her his.

He began slowly, rolling himself within her so that she felt what he truly was. The feeling surprised her as she was not expecting such power to come from him. She cursed as she tried to find a grip. He rolled again, this time digging further deeper, pulling out another curse and more frantic pawing to steady herself. He ducked his head down into her shoulder, allowing his body to work, pressing himself deeply within her quivering form. He pushed her legs up further until her thighs were at her chest and her legs dangling nearly over her head. She was panting now, burying her hands into his hair and whispering his name. He wrapped his hand around her back, pushing her up to him as he burrowed down into her further. He continued to roll and grind, using his thighs now to support his rhythm and keep her legs spread open. He pulled one leg out from her so that he could press even further, ignoring her screams of pleasure. His eyes had closed as his senses needled down into one sensation. He propped himself onto his elbows, pumping mercilessly at her. Her hands were in his hair again, her lips at his neck sucking hard at a spot just behind his ear. He could hear his own moans spewing out of him. The terrible eruption within was growing stronger. It had gripped the back of his head and tore down his spine, racing towards his groin in earnest. He could feel electricity sizzling through his body, threatening to cascade him over the edge. He slowed himself, not wanting to end the feeling of her so soon after beginning. He switched his mind off of the sensation of her and on to something far from what he was doing. He continued to punish her until he could no longer ignore himself. The eruption was there again, this time much closer to climax than he wanted. She was arching into him as well, drawing him out. His mind was going blank. He squeezed his eyes tight attempting to hold back just a little while longer. She felt so good, he did not want any of it to end.

*Not now*.

*Just a moment more*.

*Please, don't stop this yet*.

*Please... Just let me stay here...*

"Where the hell were y'all?"

Michael held the door open for Evelyn to walk into the house. It was nearly six in the morning when they arrived at Arlene's front door. Arlene stood in the darkened front room in her moomoo dress, puffing on a cigarette. Her hair remained wrapped in a headwrap and tucked expertly in place. Her eyes studied both Evelyn and Michael as they walked into the kitchen, noticing that Michael still had on the same clothes he left out with last night. Evelyn had changed her attire, wearing a pair of short cargo shorts, an American flag tank top, and a pair of high top Jordans. Michael sat down at the kitchen table in a somewhat relaxed fashion while Evelyn busied herself making coffee.

"They brought that little skinny fella over to the shop last night," said Arlene.

"Did he talk?" Evelyn asked as she prepared the grounds for brewing.

"Not really. He said a few things about the next drop, but nothing that we didn't already know about."

"Who talked to him?"

"Tarek and Zeke mainly. They worked him over pretty well, but he didn't really give us anything." Arlene leaned against the counter. "Where were you all at? Romeo said y'all left after they did."

"I went home to change," Evelyn said simply.

"Romeo said y'all never showed up at the flower shop."

"Must've fell asleep."

"Him too?" Arlene nodded towards Michael.

Evelyn only shrugged her response. The coffee finished brewing. She found two cups and poured in two even amounts of coffee. She brought over the cups and sat one down for Michael to take while setting her's down opposite him. She went and grabbed the milk and sugar before sitting down. Silently, the two of them worked around each other adding milk and sugar in each other's coffee and stirring nearly simultaneously. Arlene watched them with narrowed eyes. She drew in a drag of smoke and pursed her lips together to blow the smoke out in a thin line.

"What's going on with you two?"

Michael cut his eyes towards Arlene. "Nothing."

"Something going on," Arlene continued, unconvinced.

"You're being paranoid, Ma. How about you fix some eggs and bacon. May have to go back over with Mr. Box Boy to see if we can't pull out anything else," said Evelyn.

"Do you need my help with anything?" Michael asked.

"No. I can manage. If I need you, though I'll call you." Evelyn smiled and disappeared out the door.

Michael looked after her, hating the idea of her separating from him. After last night, sleeping in her arms in her bed, he wanted nothing more than to just be around her. After their moment on the couch, they had collected themselves and moved to the bedroom where they connected again. That time, she took more control of him and made him scream out in pleasure. They were so exhausted afterwards that they both simply fell over and slept naked. When he woke, he found himself entangled in her legs and arms, holding her close to him as if clutching a blankie. He was dreamless again, opening his eyes to a very peaceful and warm bedroom with beautiful lace pillows and a fluffy white comforter. He looked down at Evelyn sleeping sounding next to him and traced the lines of her face. She stirred a little, but did not move away. She was even more lovely than he had noticed before, but there was still something not quite right, even in her perfection. He did not know what it was exactly, and he felt it too small a detail to deter him from desiring her. He could almost see himself waking up in this setting forever, but he knew he only had one week left and there was still the mission to consider.

He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his reality closing in on him. There was always the mission to consider. Whether it was one that Section assigned or one that he took upon himself to endeaver. He would forever be inundated with missions. He was beginning to wonder if there ever would come a day when there would be no more missions to complete. Would there ever come a day when he would finally put away his guns and pick up a guitar and strum it without ever having to worry about putting it down again. Michael took a long sip of his coffee, enjoying the cup this time. It tasted loads better than the stuff that was down in the bunker.

"Go on downstairs and get yourself cleaned up," said Arlene as she began to whip the eggs to prepare them for the frying pan. "You got that walk of shame look about you."

"Walk of shame?" Michael was a little confused.

"Yeah. Walk of shame. Like you been rode hard and put away wet." Arlene turned to Michael with a knowing grin. "And if I know Pinky, which I do pretty well, she rode your ass like a Brahman bull." Arlene began to laugh heartily. "She probably tore your ass up! Get on downstairs."

Michael retreated from Arlene and went down into the bunker. He went into his room and cleaned up. He lingered a little in the shower, letting the water beat against his chest as he recalled the events of the night before. The whole thing was a mission, but it did not feel like a mission. He had been frustated at the disorganization of the whole plan and had found himself wishing he were back with Section. If he had been, the whole plan would have gone smoothly with no hitches including Sanchez losing her cool while in the VIP section. It would have been Nikita posing as the bottle service girl, stealthily moving around the men as not to be noticed and able to keep her composure enough to ID the target. She would have been able to put the tab in the drink and flawlessly keep his attention long enough for him to drink the concoction. From there, his team would have picked him up with no problem and set him on his way to go and talk with Madeline. Instead, the first plan had bumbled resulting in Evelyn having to do what she could to get herself placed in the VIP section. The way Evelyn had dressed made him wonder if she already knew Sanchez was going to act up. Her outfit suggested that she had planned to come into the club and draw attention long before sending Sanchez in with the tablet. She seemed to be dripping with diamonds and seduction at just the right level to gain every man's attention, but it wasn't every man she was meaning to gain.

It had been his.

She danced in a performance just for him, keeping her eyes steady with his so that he became mesmorized by her. She had positioned herself so that he saw exactly what she wanted him to see. What she did for the target was what she promised to do to him. Even though her antics were what got them their target finally, he could not help but feel like the outcome still would have been the same. Even if Sanchez had been able to complete her task, Evelyn would have still arrived inside the club and danced for him.

Michael cut the water and toweled off. He found his usual black suit and put it on, finding the familiar sleek lines of his normal attire comforting. He did not like the loose feeling of the top he wore at the club. He could not help but to prefer the softer linens of his designer shirts and pants. It did not matter that everything he owned was black, or some color variation akin to it. The black attire suited him and sort of made him who he was.

The man in black.

Michael walked out of his room, freshly groomed and feeling more like himself. He started towards Evelyn's office when he was stopped by Romeo coming from the tunnels. Behind him was Tarek, wearing his dreads loose and sporting a fresh new basketball jersey outfit. Romeo had taken to wearing a pair of jeans, white t-shirt, and a sports jacket somewhat similar in cut to Michael's own usual single breasts suit jacket. He had pushed the sleeves up to his elbows and walked with his hands in his pockets.

"Yo! What up!" greeted Romeo.

Michael stopped and tilted his head slightly, considering Romeo's attire.

"The club was off the hook last night, wasn't it?" said Romeo in his usual excited way. "There were bad bitches all in that place! I nearly bugged out trying to get to all of them. How many numbers did you get?"

"I got four," said Tarek.

"What about you, Mr. Smooth? You get any numbers?"

"No," Michael said bluntly.

"None?" Romeo seemed dumbfounded. "You had hunnies all over you last night. I know you got at least *one* number."

"I wasn't there to get phone numbers," said Michael plainly.

"None of us were," said Romeo, high fiving Tarek. "But we got'em anyway!"

"He wasn't looking to get any bitches' phone number," said Tarek. "He was too busy looking at Miss E fine ass."

Romeo looked overly shocked. His eyes lit with recall of the last part of the evening.

"Yo! I remember now, you left with Miss E last night. Y'all disappeared the *whole* damn night! What the hell happened?"

"He was probably hittin' them skins," said Tarek. "The way they were looking at each other last night, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Were you hittin' them skins?" Romeo gave Michael a very intersted look.

Michael did not respond, but gave Romeo a look that clearly said that it was none of his business. Romeo blinked, still waiting for an answer. Tarek grinned and started back towards the quarters. Romeo pulled in closer to Michael.

"You got a thing for Miss E?"

"Where's Evelyn?"

"You *do* got a thing for Miss E." Romeo leaned back a little, studying Michael's purposeful blank face. "Oh Yo! You got a thing for Miss E! I don't blame you, though. The way she moved last night made me wanna have a crush on her too!"

Romeo began laughing and slapped Michael on the arm. Michael looked at Romeo's hand on him and wanted to twist it off. It was enough that Arlene had called out the very thing without a shred of evidence given, but to have Romeo also imply that there was an interaction between Evelyn and himself was beyond uncomfortable. He had not noticed that he had been so obvious with his interest in Evelyn. He had thought that he had kept his feelings masked, but like all other things that seemed to be true to the house, his facade failed him and he was exposed. He assumed the reason was that he allowed his eyes to linger to long with her, that he drew too close to her when speaking with her, that he seemed more interested in what she was doing and where she was going so much so that others were beginning to question.

"Where's Evelyn," Michael tried again, trying to sound less annoyed than he actually was, but even that was beginning to peak through.

Romeo seemed not to notice, or possibly just ignored Michael's tone. He took his hand off his shoulder and pointed towards the tunnels.

"She's probably with Box Boy down at the flower shop. I can take you to them if you like. I've been meaning to talk to you about something anyway."

Michael followed Romeo to the tunnels and got in the golf cart. Michael sat down on the passenger side and held on to the bar as Romeo began driving like a teenager just recently granted a driver's license. Thankfully, there was no music that could be played in the golf cart, however that did not stop Romeo from dancing to whatever music was steadily playing in his head.

"Hey, man, I started talking to that girl we saw in the clothing store the other day, right," Romeo began. He did not wait for Michael to respond. "Her name is Marissa. She's from California originally. Works at some department store or something. I didn't pay attention to all that. Now *she* says her friend is named Carmen and they have been friends since grade school. She likes Carmen, but she feels like she gets around too much."

Michael minimally responded in his normal fashion. Romeo knew he was listening as, at the moment, he was a captive audience. He continued.

"Now get this! Marissa is the freak between the two. How I know? Because all the stuff she was telling me she likes to do, and wants to do to me? *Woooo*! I might see if I can keep them both!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Michael looked over at Romeo. "What if they find out about each other? What's your plan?"

Romeo waved Michael off. "I can handle that. I've juggled two ladies before."

"Is your objective to establish a long term relationship with one of them, or is it to simply get what you can from them?"

Romeo thought about this question a moment as he drove the cart towards a metal door. He parked the cart and got out.

"I don't know yet. I guess maybe to have fun. I'm not looking to marry either one of them. I'm just, you know, playing the game."

"Then don't get your feelings caught up in it," said Michael as he got out of the cart. "Get what you can and then get out."

Romeo frowned. "Wouldn't that kinda hurt their feelings?"

"What do you care?" Michael went up to the door and placed his hand on the panel to access. It unlocked with a loud metalic noise.

Romeo followed after Michael, his hands in his pockets. "I don't, not really...It's just that...I don't know. Seems kinda cold."

"What else do you want from them?"

The two of them maneuvered through the back stock room of the flower shop, avoiding tables of flowers in the middle of being processed into arrangements. There was a light on the right of the darkened stock room where their target was being kept.

"I guess I really just want the panties," Romeo admitted, but looked as though he was fighting with himself with his own admission.

Michael stopped and put a hand on Romeo's shoulder so that he stopped and looked at him. He leveled his eyes with his so that he gained his full attention. Once he had it, he put his hands back in his pockets.

"Are you beginning to care about Marissa?"

"I don't know," said Romeo honestly.

"Have you slept with her?"

"No. Am I supposed to?"

"If you think it would help to move things along to get you closer to the other girl, then yes."

Romeo continued to frown. "It seems really wrong."

"It is," said Michael matter of factly. "But what does that matter? You're not in it for the relationship. You're trying to gain leverage."

"I don't want to hurt her."

"It's inevitable. You're going to have to take your feelings out of it. Put it aside. You don't need them. All you have to do is convince her of your interest and allow her to give you what you want. When it is done, you can move on to your next objective."

Romeo nodded, understanding. "Carmen is already coming around a lot more. Making excuses to hang out. She's even made a pass once or twice."

"Good. Then your objective is in sight. Now all you have to do is figure out a way to break things off with the other girl in a way that doesn't damage your reputation with the friend. You want her to see you as a potential mate. Your timing is critical. Cut things off too early, you'll lose your advantage. Draw things out too long and the friend will lose interest."

"How will I know how far I need to go?"

"You'll know," said Michael, beginning towards the room.

They approached the room and saw Zeke standing outside the door with his arms crossed over his massive chest. This time, he chose to wear a blue tank top over black jeans. He acknowledge Michael and Romeo with a sneering head nod. Michael listened at the door and could hear the target yelling obscenities at the person in the room with him. A moment later, he could hear Evelyn say something quietly back before opening the door. She looked understandably angered. She grabbed a towel from a nearby table and wiped her bloodied knuckles. She sighed heavily.

"How is it going?" Michael asked.

Evelyn shook her head. "He's not giving us much. Keeps saying he doesn't know his contact. Doesn't know anything about any shipments. Doesn't know anybody we've mentioned. I know he's lying, but he's playing stupid."

Michael nodded, considering what Evelyn said. Inside the room, Box Boy, looking worked over well, but still defiant, spat out a wad of blood onto the floor. He looked up at Michael and spat at him.

"Man! Fuck you man! Fuck all y'all hoes! Fuck that bitch! Fuck e'erybody! Y'all ain't making me no damn snitch! Fuckin' punk ass muthafuckas! Man, suck my dick!"

Evelyn looked over at Box Boy tied down in a chair with obvious hatred. She shook her head, attempting to rid herself of murderous thoughts. She looked over at Zeke.

"Might as well cut him loose. He don't know shit."

"Are you sure?" asked Michael.

"We've been working him since last night. If he was going to tell us anything, he would have done it by now," said Evelyn.

Michael squared his shoulders and began buttoning his suit jacket closed. He kept his gaze steady on the still cursing Box Boy.

"Give me five minutes."

"What for?" asked Evelyn, noticing Michael had changed his stance.

"He'll talk."

Michael went to a table littered with gardening tools and selected a pair of garden scissors and a soil knife. He found a towel and walked calmly into the room. Box Boy continued to swear and spit like a wild animal. Michael ignored his not so veiled threats to kill him and anyone he loved. He knew in his current position that the young man could do none of what he was threatening. He set the tools on the floor and closed the door.

"Hello," Michael said as he turned slowly on his heels.

"Who the fuck are you? The big man upstairs?" asked Box Boy.

"No."

"I ain't telling you shit!"

"That's fine," said Michael, his tone low and even. "But I think you might change your mind before we're done."

"What you gone do with that shit?"

"Whatever is necessary."

"I don't give a damn. I don't *give a fuck*! I ain't no snitch. I ain't afraid to die. Get me the fuck up outta this chair! When I get out, I'm blastin' everybody in here!"

"Who's your contact?"

"I don't know what the fuck you talking about."

"Who's your contact?" Michael began circling the chair, his hands behind his back.

"Fuck you!"

"When is your next drop off?"

"Man, y'all got the wrong muthafucka!"

"How much are they paying you?"

Box Boy made a dismissive sound. Michael stopped in front of him and moved dangerously close to his face. He stared intensely into his eyes, clenching his jaw.

"Tell me what I want to know, and I'll cut you free. Don't tell me, and I'll make the last moments of your life *extremely* unpleasant."

"Yo, man! Back up off me," said Box Boy, his tone wavering slightly now.

"Who is your contact?"

Evelyn listened from the other side of the door, trying to hear what was going on. She could hear Box Boy yelling at Michael whose own voice was too low to catch. Suddenly, a high pitched scream erupted from inside the room. The screams were of terror and agony as they echoed over the walls. Zeke looked somewhat fearful at the door displaying what they were all thinking.

"What the hell is he doing in there?" asked Romeo.

Evelyn shrugged, unsure herself if it was a good idea to put Michael in the room with the crazed drug runner. The screams continued for a moment longer before the door opened again. Michael emerged wiping the blade of the soil knife off with the towel he carried in with him. Evelyn noticed huge stains of carnage on the towel. She looked into the room and saw a pool of blood forming under Box Boy's feet. She looked at Michael again, a little horrified. He straightened his jacket, his eyes looking as vacant and dead as a robot's. He turned his icey stare towards Evelyn.

"He'll talk now."

Evelyn nodded. She kept her eyes on Michael as he walked back to where he was standing just outside the door. Inside, Box Boy was sobbing uncontrollably. Evelyn looked at the ragged man seated in the chair, and aside from the bruises he already had and the blood at his feet, he looked normal. She knew that Michael had done something nightmarish to him by the way he was shaking and crying. Evelyn went closer to the man and lifted his chin up. The man's eyes colored over with fear as he looked past Evelyn into the hall where Michael stood watching silently.

"Get that muthafucker away from me!" Box Boy screamed. "Get him away!"

Box Boy began to cry again. Evelyn nodded for Zeke to close the door. Michael moved away from the door and leaned against the table full of tools. Romeo leaned up next to him, crossing his arms in much the same fashion as the way Michael was positioned.

"Yo, what the hell did you do to him in there?" asked Romeo.

"Just asked him some questions."

"Why did he start screaming like that?"

Michael looked over at Romeo. "He wouldn't answer them...at first."

"Yeah, but what did you do to make him act like that? Homey was shook."

"What was necessary."

Michael's answer made Romeo shiver a little. It was cold and unusually unnerving. There was a darkness about Michael that was unnoticed before. In his dark suit, with his chestnut hair combed back from his angelic looking face, Romeo could not help but wonder if this was what Michael truly was. It was beginning to make sense to Romeo of what Michael had first said to him, that being a Valentine was more than just screwing. There was more to it just like there was more to Michael than just a pretty face.

Evelyn emerged from the room. She looked at Romeo and waved him over to her. She handed him a tape recorder.

"Give this to Santino or Morales. And hurry."

"Ok boss," said Romeo before turning and heading back through the tunnels.

Evelyn turned to Zeke. "He's given us everything he can."

"What do you want to do with him?"

"It's no point putting him back on the street. He's already near gone. Give him a blow hole and a necktie. Toss him out. Make it look like a hit."

"Yes, ma'am." Zeke turned and went into the room.

Evelyn started out of the flower shop heading for the front of the store. Michael paused a moment before following her. She whipped out a set of keys and opened the shop doors, allowing Michael to leave out before locking the doors back behind them. Michael noticed they were in a strip mall somewhere in a market area of the city. Evelyn's jeep was parked in front. She got in and started the engine. Michael climbed into the passenger side. They pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the boulevard.

"What's our next step?" Michael asked after they had driven a ways from the strip mall.

"We clean up loose ends. Box Boy has a brother named Slim. He is supposed to go with him to the drop tomorrow night. We will have to take out Slim in order to avoid detection. His contact is named Danvers. They've only met a few times. Danvers knows Box Boy, but not very well, so we might be able to put in a substitute to get close to him. We get Danvers to lead us into the lab and have the team follow up. A secondary unit will provide support, but not much. We have to be careful."

"Who is the secondary unit?"

"Other members of Black Skull. They're already over the border and have been working the labs and trade routes. If we can take out this lab, we might disrupt the trades which will halt Guillermo's operations temporarily. He'll have to deal with the trade problem and infighting among his lieutenants."

"In fighting?"

"So far, we've created some issues among the different gang sects that work with Guillermo's cartel. We've been able to pit several gangs against one another by performing hits against them and blaming the other. Their heads are trying to work things out peacefully, but their subordinates are blood thirsty. The more hits we do, the less stable they become."

"You're perpetuating gang wars," said Michael, noticing the plan now.

"As long as they are fighting each other, they aren't looking at us. More importantly, they aren't concerned about Guillermo's plans."

"You're counting on their self preservation."

"So far, it's worked," said Evelyn. She turned the jeep down the street where the house was located. Michael remembered the route well now. "We go out this afternoon to do the hit on Slim. We know where he'll be, so we gotta move quick. I'll need you up top to do the hit. Think you can handle it?"

"I'll be fine," said Michael.

"That you are," said Evelyn with a sly smile.

They pulled into the driveway of the house. Michael hopped out of the jeep. He started up the walkway when Evelyn called his attention back to her

"I had fun last night," she said. "I never thought I'd have a taste for French Vanilla."

Michael grinned. "Never thought I'd like chocolate so much."

Evelyn laughed then backed out of the driveway. "See you in a few."

"Where are you going?" Michael called.

"Errands." Evelyn drove down the street.

Michael looked after her until she disappeared around the corner. He started into the house, already hearing Arlene cursing someone out about being in her kitchen.