Black Ops: Creatures of the Deep
Michael fell back heavily against the pillow, gasping. Despite the air conditioning being nearly on full blast in the room, he was pouring sweat. His body continued to tingle and shake from exertion. His muscles ached. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to refocus and bring himself back down to earth. Next to him, Evelyn reached for something in her end table and rolled back towards him.
"I have something for you," she said within her own panting breath.
"What?" Michael could barely pull in his thoughts to notice what Evenly was handing him. He opened one eye. "What is that?"
"Information."
Michael took in long, more controlled breaths. His mind was still reeling from the intensity of their latest early morning romp. He only partially noticed the file disc that Evelyn had in her hands as she rested on her side, looking at him with a purposeful expression. He did not want to think about work at the moment, not while he was still recovering from ecstasy. He looked at Evelyn, realizing she was being quite serious. He lifted up on his elbows.
"Information to what, exactly?"
"A friend of mine sent over a file to look over," Evelyn explained. She put the disc on his stomach. "Use my computer to review it quickly. I think you'll be very interested to know what it says."
"Evelyn?" Michael shook his head. He picked up the disc and studied it. "Where did the intel come from?"
"I told you. A friend," said Evelyn. She rolled off the bed and began putting on her clothes.
Michael sat up fully. The afternoon sun pushed through the flimsy sheers hung up to the bedroom window. The plates from the morning breakfast sat on the end tables. Michael reached and drank the last few swallows of the now lukewarm orange juice. Behind him, Evelyn finished pulling on her clothes. She quickly gathered the plates from the tables. Michael handed her his empty glass and received a quick kiss to his cheek. He continued to turn the disc in his fingers, thinking a bit more clearly now. He set the disc on the table and began searching for his own clothes. Evelyn disappeared into the kitchen to begin cleaning up. After Michael was dressed, he took the disc and went into the front room where Evelyn's laptop was set up on the coffee table. Michael sat down, pushed in the file disc, and began reviewing the information stored on it. After scrolling through the report, he sat back, completely dumbfounded. He looked at Evelyn, still washing dishes and humming to herself.
"This is a NSA file."
"Yes."
"Your friend is NSA?"
Evelyn continued rinsing off the dishes silently.
Michael rubbed his face. He read more. "Do you know about this?"
Evelyn began loading the dishwasher.
"Evelyn!" Michael raised his voice enough to gain her attention quickly. "How much of this do you know about?"
Eveyln stood quiet a moment, staring blankly at Michael. Finally, she sighed, then leaned against the counter.
"We only knew part of the plan for the arms deal. We weren't certain that it was what Guillermo was trying to get money to actually do until just a day ago. I wanted to stop the money so that I could stop the deal. But when Danvers got killed during the raid, it threw a wrench into everything. We were targeting that drug lab because it was where the deal was going to go down. I had hoped we could get to Danvers before they did, but...Well...If you give Section that information, they might move on the lab."
"You want Section to hit the lab for you."
"Yes. With the intel coming from you, Operations won't question its validity. He'll go with whatever you tell him. That's why it is very important that you tell him exactly what I need you to say to him. Guillermo is building his army and using Glass Curtain to help fund it. I know it. The whole reason why Glass Curtain went under in the first place was because Guillermo grandfathered their organization into his. The ones that you ran into last year were only a fraction of the real organization. They broke off from Guillermo to return to their original activities. The rest of Glass Curtain still works under Guillermo as part of his army."
"Is Guillermo planning to use what he gets from this deal to carry out the coup?"
"Possibly. We aren't sure on that," said Evelyn. "It doesn't matter though. What matters is that we can't let that deal go through. Glass Curtain and Guillermo are working together to get their hands on some type of test weapon. That's enough to have Section move in."
"Maybe."
Evelyn crossed her arms. "Why won't they? The information on that file says they are planning on bidding for a test weapon, a pretty major test weapon at that. They will *have* to do something."
"I don't know," said Michael. He continued to scroll through the conversations, noting where breaks occurred indicating another set of dialogue between different people within Guillermo's organization. "This looks too neat."
"Section will move if they know that a weapon of mass destruction has the potential to fall into enemy hands."
"Even with this, it's not a guarantee that they'll move. Maybe they might investigate the claim, but they won't go after him."
"Why are you so sure? How could you know anything of what Section will and won't do," said Evelyn. "After all that I've shown you, how could you still want to protect that monster?"
"I'm not protecting him. I didn't say that he deserved to live. I said that Section might not touch it. You don't even know if this file is clean."
"It's clean," said Evelyn resolutely. "My contact wouldn't have given me anything that wasn't verified."
"Who is your contact?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"I just can't." Evelyn rushed towards Michael and knelt down at his knee. Her eyes were full of emotion. "Help me Michael! Make them see that Guillermo can't stay in power! He has to be taken out! He has to die! The world is a big place, Michael, and there's a lot that goes on it that never gets seen or heard about. These kids that Guillermo is using are innocent. They don't have any idea of the kind of monsters that are out there, monsters like Guillermo. Section says they exist to protect the innocent from being hurt. Well, there is a twelve year old girl right now, about to be raped and beaten all because Guillermo used her to buy his way into power. How is that fair? How is that justified? What could Section possibly say that would make allowing that little girl to die and Guillermo live?"
Michael could not answer her. Evelyn moved to sit down next to him. She leaned forward, wringing her hands as she collected her thoughts.
"She was playing in her front yard in Oregon. A twelve year old girl just minding her own business, at her home. Someone came and snatched her away from her life, away from her family, and turned her into a slave. How is that fair? How could anyone justify allowing something like that to happen all to protect what? She gets her innocence taken because some disgusting old man wants to get his jollies off with a kid before he hands over missiles to a foreign power?"
Michael sighed heavily. He never agreed with many of Section's policies or the manner in which it conducted its business. He never tried to understand the reasons why. He was never asked to. He was only asked to carry out the orders. As long as he did what he was told, he did not have to worry about all the other details that went along with the order. He only had to worry about doing his part. Those that did ask such questions often found themselves staring down the dark hollow of a revolver with their last thoughts being how they wished they had made different decisions. There was a time when he had asked questions and wanted to understand, but he learned quickly not to pursue them. He no longer asked why it was that people like Guillermo could be protected while others were sent to the slaughter. Everything was collateral. Everyone was replaceable, even himself. There was no guarantee of anything, and that was the reason he felt at his core. Nothing was guaranteed. Not even the life of a little girl. If Section could murder an innocent four week old infant, they could allow a twelve year old to be raped as well if it meant controlling the world's abitlity to destroy itself. In war, there was no respect of person, young or old. There was only the objective. Only the end, and whatever had to be done to justify the means used to get to the end, just had to be done. Innocence lost was inevitable.
"This could start an all out war against Section."
Evelyn leaned back against the couch cushions and folded her hands across her stomach.
"So it starts a war."
"If that happens, a lot more people will die. A lot more innocents will be sacrificed."
"War is never pretty. But if you're not willing to die for a cause worth dying for, why are you even living to see another day?" Evelyn raised up a little to look at Michael. "We don't have to live like this. There is another way. You've seen it here for yourself. You can still be Section without all the politics. You can fight for a reason, not just because someone said you had to. If you stay with us...Don't you want to get out of Section?"
"There has to be another way."
"What other way is there? They've already killed you. We could die a million times and the world would never know our names past the grave stones we've left behind in our former lives. They may never know who we were, but they *will* know what we did. Section has a lot of power, and a lot of resources. Way more than we have right now. It wouldn't take them long to get rid of Guillermo. You know that. We could save so many others trapped along these borders. Ones that Section and all the other agencies conveniently leave behind because it doesn't work within *their* mission parameters. Well we have parameters of our own, parameters that don't let innocent little girls like Pressly, or women like Simone be taken by these monsters and used for pleasure. Join with me and stand up for *something*."
Michael sighed, looking once more at the information on the file. He agreed that Section could take care of Guillermo, cleanly and with little to no interference from any other agency save Guillermo's own personal guards. Section had taken on plenty of other highly organized factions with varying degrees of success. However, in this case, he knew not only would Section not likely move against the cartel, but would probably turn against any group that went against them. The more he continued to look into Guillermo's organization, the more he realized the futility of Evelyn's plan.
"You're asking me to put myself and all of Section at risk. If I leak this to Operations, to Section the way that it is, I'm not only sending myself to certain death, but any operative that they send down as well."
"You won't die," said Evelyn. She drew close to him again and took his face into her hands gently. "I won't let that happen."
"How?"
"I will protect you?"
"You can't protect me," said Michael, pulling away.
"So what if you died? Would you rather die following someone else's orders, or die trying to save a life that can't save their own? We're all destined to die in the end, Michael. It just depends on whether or not we can accept the way we are called. Whether or not we died as cowards...or as heroes."
Michael looked at Evelyn with question.
"Of course...You could *die* on the mission, shot and killed by a Glass Curtain operative. Or better yet, you could die the same way Simone died, trapped in an inescapable inferno. That is how she died right? Surrounded by lots of smoke? You could be free, Michael."
"What are you saying?" Eveyln had his full attention now.
Evelyn pressed forward. "I can make it happen. I've done it before. I can do it again. Section says there is only one way out, but there is another way."
Michael shook his head, not fully comprehending what Evelyn was saying, but knowing that he could not agree with her. He could not shake the sick feeling he felt within himself. Everything in him was telling him to find a way to get out of this, to separate himself completely. Evelyn's quest to save innocent victims from being trafficked was noble, but well beyond even his own capabilities. Section may have deprived him of nearly everything imaginable, everything but his life. Yet, he was grateful each day to still have it no matter how miserable it was. Admittedly, there were days that he wished to end it all, but only on his own terms, never theirs. He would never allow himself to be murdered by Section no matter what cause it was for. There was a time that he said that he would only be defined by what he was willing to die for. He was not so sure that he believed that anymore. It was not what he was willing to die for that made him who he was now. It was what he was willing to live for that made him fight for life and defy death at any cost. Despite any of what Section had done to him, or the hell that he had been through and would continue to live each day with Section, it had inadvertently given him reason to keep on fighting. He was unsure exactly how much Evelyn actually knew about him. It was clear she had studied his file extensively and knew much more information than what he would ever willingly tell. She had to know that it would not be easy for him to simply break away from Section, not while he was still very much attached to it. Section was his umbilical cord to the only other life he valued above his own. Should that line be severed, he might as well walk into a burning building drenched in gasoline. There'd be no reason left for him to go on any further. Evelyn might have thought she was offering him freedom, but he knew it would be nothing of the sort if he chose to go with her and leave behind his soul.
"Don't you want to be free?" Evelyn asked again, her expression pleading for him to answer her in the way that she wanted him to.
Michael lowered his gaze. He truly did want to be free of Section, and what she proposed to him to any other operative, even Nikita, would have sounded like a dream. He was so very tired of nightmares, tired of hearing the screams of the dying, tired of smelling the stench of death all about him, and tired of the tears. He was tired of the pain of living each day knowing that at any given moment, he would be thrust back into the jaws of torment to be ripped apart again and again. He would have to endure that hell for as long as he could breathe, but it was all worth it to know that his soul was kept safe in a home that lies and blood built.
"I can never be free from Section," Michael answered honestly. "I'm forever bound to it."
Evelyn sat a moment, simply looking at Michael and taking him in completely. Her eyes told him that she still did not quite understand, but she did not refute his decision. She stood to her feet and let out a breathy exhale.
"What will it take for you to let it go? For you to realize you don't owe Section anything, but that it owes you everything? Whatever it is that you think Section gave to you to keep, it will take it back. Once it's done with you, it'll leave you out in the cold...alone. And then you'll wish you really were dead."
Birkoff appeared on the screen looking a little shocked as he always seemed to look. It was late evening, nearly six o'clock and well past time for the early shift to end work and go home. Five field operations were underway, all of which were being monitored by Birkoff's team. In the background, Michael could hear Nikita's distinguished alto voice giving direction during a black bag job. His awareness of her made him want to see her. From where Birkoff's desk sat, it was unlikely he would get a glance at the tall blonde, not unless she happened to wander in behind him. Even if she did, he would only get to see her midsection and not her face.
"I ran those names you gave me," Birkoff said. "I've sent you the results. Pretty weird, though. Are you sure you sent me the right names?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well...from the list you gave me...the names on there are all abeyance operatives."
"Yeah, so."
"They are all abeyance operatives that have been cancelled. Michael, the names you gave me for the new recruits are all dead."
Michael sat for a moment, unsure of what to say. He had not expected to hear what Birkoff told him. Once more, he could hear Nikita give an instruction, then confirm the objective. Birkoff looked up as Nikita handed him a file disc. Michael waited until Nikita was gone before speaking again.
"Have you been able to research the other name I gave you?"
"Still having some trouble finding someone to access that file," said Birkoff.
"Try Norris. He should be back from Sudan by now. He owes me a favor."
"Norris' office is right beside Madeline's. It'll look strange if I get seen there without a good reason."
"Be very careful and don't get caught."
A noise distracted Birkoff for a moment. Then someone on his team began calling for his attention.
"Michael, I gotta go. I'll be in touch with you soon."
"Make sure you see Norris."
"Okay. You can count on me." Birkoff gave a smile that looked more worried than assured.
Michael nodded and ended the call.
He sighed.
Hearing Nikita's voice had stirred him a little and made him wonder how she was doing with her other missions. From the sound of things, it seemed she was handling field tactical just fine and no longer needed him to hold her hand while a mission was underway. He recalled the first time she was given the reins to begin calling tactical missions. She kept looking back at him, asking with her eyes what to say or do next. He coached quietly from behind her, feeding her answers when she was at a loss, nodding his approval when she made correct judgements, and stepping in occasionally to properly direct the team when she was clearly becoming overwhelmed. The more she called tactical, the less she needed his guidance until the day finally came when she no longer looked back at him for his opinion. She called the mission with fluid accuracy and confidence, impressing not only him, but Operations who was watching closely from Command. He remembered her smile when the mission was complete and she took off her Comm unit. He had only nodded before going up to Command to report his own assessment of her performance. Both Operations and Madeline looked on from their positions at the perch like two proud parents. He was given another merit for his guidance and Nikita was given additional scores drawing her one step closer towards another promotion within her Level 2 status. With a bit more practice, she could add Tactical to her growing list of operative skills, which could open her up to more opportunities within Section to move about in her career there. They may not be able to be granted freedom, but what Section could give was an opportunity to fashion a life that at the very least mimicked the illusion of choice. The more semblance of choice an operative had, the less they were inclined to rebel against the machine that was Section. This was a truth that Michael had come to know during his time there, and it was one that he had hoped that Nikita would soon learn and accept. If she would only learn to follow, he could show her how much easier life could be. She may even find herself leading...eventually.
Michael stood to his feet. He checked his watch and decided it was time to go in search of food again. Evelyn had dropped him back off at the house so that he could get more work done. He had spent part of the morning reviewing the NSA file and wondering what he should do next. It was clear that Evelyn was planning to make a move on the lab and expected him to get the necessary support needed from Section to back her mission up. He was not completely comfortable with giving the file over knowing that in doing so, he was ensuring his own demise and the deaths of anyone else joining the fight. Section was sure to send a strike team of maybe six operatives, likely ones in abeyance awaiting their cancellation assignments. They would not know anything about an extraction plan and would likely only give enough time to blow up the lab killing everyone inside. To pull off a full rescue, he would need to somehow get into the lab minutes before the strike team arrived and start moving bodies before the fighting really began and before charges were set. With any luck, he might be able to get out a few before beginning to take hits, but the overwhelming chance of being discovered was high. There had to be another way to do this without getting himself or anyone else killed.
Michael climbed the stairs up into the house and went into the kitchen. Arlene had left plates on the counter, wrapped up as she normally prepared them with sticky notes on them identifying who was assigned to which plate. Michael found his and lifted the foil wrap. He groaned a little, seeing it was another plate of heavily sauced spaghetti. He noticed he seemed to be alone in the house. He did not hear anyone moving about. The television was quiet. Michael looked into the backyard and saw that it was empty as well. Michael took his plate and sat down at the table, preparing to eat as much as his stomach would allow him to. Even though the spaghetti was always good, Arlene was heavy handed with the sauce and always seemed to pile too much of it on his plate. It nearly made eating the spaghetti a messy and weighted affair.
Michael got up and searched through the cabinets for a glass to drink out of. After finding one that did not have a restaurant logo on it, or some other establishment giving away plastic cups, he went into the refrigerator. He looked on the shelf and found a tall pitcher. As he pulled it out, his eyes caught something else on the side panel of the door. He put the pitcher down and looked to find a small clear vial. He picked it up and studied it. The vial had no markings on it to indicate what it was. The only thing that gave its true identity away was its familiar black cap. Michael held up the vial, knowing what it was, but hoping that his suspicions were false. If he was correct in what he was looking at, then he knew there was something else going on in the house, something that would not sit well with him if it turned out to be true.
Michael shook the vial. The liquid began to mix and turn an opaque milky violet shade. Michael tried to steady his breathing. He had seen a vial like the one he held once before in Madeline's office. It was part of an experimental project she and Operations were working on to use for mind control purposes. The chemical was still in its trial phase with several operatives being given the drug to note its effect. Michael had not known much more about the study as it was deemed a Level 7 Classified Material and well above his concern. The only thing that he knew of the drug was its name and that it somehow altered the way in which a person behaved. The chemical was like a love potion in that it made its victim feel intense emotions towards someone whom they would not naturally desire. It heightened the person's sexual drive towards a person and could make them feel stronger feelings of love and devotion, but only for a short while. Given in small doses, the concoction could mimic the slow burn of falling in love. Given in higher doses, the chemical could make a person go mad to the point of fatal obsession. Michael wondered for what reason would Arlene have the Casper drug in her refridgerator of all places. Had they used it on him? Had they figured out a way to hide the bitter taste of the chemical?
Michael put the vial in his pocket before returning to his seat at the table. He could not fully recall ever really paying close attention to how his own food was being handled. He recalled the first day eating and getting very sick from the food. Evelyn had said it was because he was not used to the way the food was prepared. She had not lied. He was not used to the food's preparation, not if it was already spiked with a chemical to make him feel emotions more strongly than normal.
Michael looked at his own plate of spaghetti. There was no way of knowing what was spiked and what wasn't. He had to assume just about anything he ate or touched could affect him in some way. Michael threw the plate into the trash and returned back down into the bunker. He began to look again at everything around him, at the equipment and all the things that he interacted with over the past few days. The Casper drug that he had in his pocket was in liquid form, one of its earliest renderings when it was first developed. Since then, he had heard of it being tested in other forms to be discreetly used, but the results were not confirmed.
Michael went to Evelyn's office and closed the door. He checked his watch before sitting down at her desk to log into her computer. Once in, he dispatched a phone call and linked the transmitter to contact Munitions. He hoped that Walter was still around to answer some questions. To his relief, Walter's scruffy and weary looking face appeared on the communicator looking both surprised and joyful to see Michael's face.
"What's happening Captain?" he greeted in his usual upbeat manner.
"Walter. I'm hoping you could identify something for me," said Michael, always straight to the point.
"Sure. What'dya got?"
Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial. He held it up for Walter to get a good view of it in the camera lens. Walter moaned, a deep guttural sound that indicated his deep thoughts. His deep brown eyes squinted slightly, trying to pinpoint in his mind where he had seen a vial like the one Michael was showing him from. He shook his head.
"What's in it?" Walter finally asked.
"I don't know. I was hoping you might."
"Did you shake it?"
Michael nodded.
"Well, what did it look like after you did that? Did it turn a color?"
"It turned purple," Michael answered. He then shook the vial so that it turned the violet hue he saw in the kitchen.
Walter's eyes widened, recognizing the color. His mouth formed an O shape.
"Oh man," said Walter. "I haven't seen that in a while. Where'd you get it?"
"I found it here in the kitchen," Michael answered. "What is it?"
"In the kitchen? What the hell would *that* be doing in someone's kitchen?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out. Walter, what is it?"
"It looks to me like you got yourself a prototype of Casper, or as I like to call it, Love Potion #8," said Walter with a sly grin. "Have you taken it?"
Michael shut his eyes for a moment. His thoughts were becoming cloudy once more as visions of Evelyn continued to flood him. He knew he had only just left her that morning, but throughout much of the day, he had begun thinking obsessively about her.
"I'm not sure," said Michael. "I think I've been given it somehow, though."
"Well, what have you been feeling lately?" Walter looked truly concerned.
"It's hard to say," Michael answered, even though he knew exactly the word to describe what it was he was feeling. He just did not want to say it to Walter.
"Have you been feeling dizzy? Nauseated? Shaky maybe?"
"No. Not really. A little off balance at times, but..."
"Horny," said Walter pointedly. "Like you want to nail anything moving?"
"Not quite that," said Michael, already feeling his cheeks flushing. "Not exactly."
"Maybe sudden arousal when a certain somebody is near you?" Walter looked at Michael with a wary eye.
Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking a little. He nodded slowly.
"And when you're away from them, they are all that you can think about, isn't it? Can't concentrate on anything else."
"I don't know what's happening to me," Michael admitted.
"I know what's happening to you," said Walter with a slight smile. "You're in love. Or at least experiencing the *feeling* of love. The drug is designed to take already existing emotions, enhance them, and make you act on those emotions. Normally, there's also a trigger, something that you are either seeing, smelling, or hearing that causes your mind to access those feelings. Is there anything in your room, like a painting or a drawing of some kind that you are seeing every day?"
"No, nothing."
"What about sounds? What are you hearing?"
"No. No sounds, I don't think. The only thing that gets played around here is rap music, and it certainly doesn't make me want to run out and sleep with anyone."
"It's gotta be something that you're smelling then. Is there a scent that you find that makes you think about being with this person?"
Michael thought for a moment. His thoughts traveled back to the first time he was with Evelyn. They were in her apartment. There was a light smell in the air, one that made him begin to think of her more. Then it was the moment on her couch when she crushed his face into her breasts. She smelled of vanilla then, and it nearly made him insane with desire for her. He recalled the same scent being in the kitchen when Arlene made the pound cake. She gave him a slice of it. Each time he was ever with Evelyn, she always smelled of vanilla with an undertone of chocolate.
"Vanilla," Michael whispered.
"You're smelling vanilla? Are you smelling it right now?"
"No. Just when I'm around her. She wears it in her perfume, I think. But her scent would be the trigger. The drug doesn't have a scent."
"No, but when it was first introduced to you, it was likely paired with the trigger which made you associate your feelings with the scent. Now, when you get a whiff of vanilla, you automatically access those feelings of desire for the other person. The drug isn't all bad except for it not only making you extremely horny, but also highly suggestable."
"Meaning?"
"You'll do just about anything she asks you to do." Walter looked around himself for a moment before leaning into the screen to be closer to the microphone. "Have you slept with her yet?"
"Several times," Michael answered, already feeling a bit sick for having to confide in Walter, of all people. "It's starting to become more frequent."
"Yeah, well, I hate to tell you, buddy, but you're gonna have to find some way to stop. The more you do it, the longer the effects of the drug will last. If you want it to wear off, you're gonna have to get away from her for a few days."
"I can't do that, Walter. I'm stuck at the Outpost with her. I can't go anywhere."
"Well, I suggest you take plenty of cold showers and learn how to *just say no* whenever she comes around, then."
There was very little compassion in Walter's expression. Michael breathed out again heavily. He knew the next few days would prove to be torturous if he was going to have to deny himself the pleasure of being with Evelyn. He could already feel himself breaking apart inside at just the thought.
"Is there not a reversal to this drug? Has one not been developed yet?" Michael just wanted out of his misery.
"Nope. The only antidote to Casper is abstinence and a few days waiting with absolutely no contact to the trigger. Your emotions will return back to you after a while. Just don't take the drug anymore and don't be around your trigger. It will set you back to square one."
"Is there anything else that I should know about this drug? Any other effects I should be aware of if I'm not given it regularly?"
"There is one other thing you could do," said Walter. "Drink plenty of water. It will help flush out your system faster. You'll probably still feel the effects of it as your body starts to detox, but you'll get through the withdrawals quicker."
"What withdrawals?"
"Nothing too terrible," said Walter. "Night sweats, mostly. A few headaches. And a really bad dose of teenage hormones...Times like ten. But I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle, right."
Michael sighed again, his expression full of worry at the revelation. He nodded his response, unable to give voice in hopes of not sounding as troubled as he truly was.
"Hey! You'll be fine," encouraged Walter with a big grin. "Your week is nearly over. You'll be back home and back to normal in no time."
"Thanks, Walter," said Michael.
"Anytime."
The screen went black as Walter signed off. Michael let out another long sigh, and buried his face into his hands. It was going to be nearly impossible for him to avoid being around Evelyn, and nothing save a pair of nose plugs or a sinus infection, would block her scent from him. He could, at the very least, make certain that no more of the drug could be used on him. However, it still did not solve the problem of the drug that was already in his system causing him to be weakened when around Evelyn. He had not considered any of what he had done as part of her manipulation of him. In fact, much of what she proposed he do, she had her entire squad do.
Michael got up from Evelyn's desk and began to walk back towards his room. The sounds of the bunker going about his usual routine faded into the background as he walked, deep in thought. He barely noticed Morales as she passed him in the corridor. She waved at him, but when he did not return an acknowledgement of her, she cursed him with a sneer and walked towards her workstation. Michael noticed too late that Morales had said something to him. He could not figure out why it was that she had such a disdain for him, seeing as how he had done nothing to her that he was aware of. There was a small part of him that wanted to corner her and ask her what her problem was, but that part was being shoved into the closet of his mind where many other insignificant cares stood waiting their time to be addressed. He went into his room and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his desk and logged onto his own computer to check his emails. Sure enough, there were plenty, but there was only one in particular that he was searching for. After scrolling a bit down a line of questions and summary notes, he found the email from Birkoff that he was looking for. He quickly clicked on it and sifted through the file for the embedded link encrypted within the file. It took a moment to locate the coded lettering which he then used another program to extract in order to get to the real file embedded. He opened it and began reading Birkoff's report.
OPERATIVE: CRUZ, EVELYN
OPERATIVE CLASS: 4/COURTESAN
OPERATIVE STATUS: UNKNOWN/DEACTIVATED
SATELLITE LOCATOR: DEACTIVATED...
LAST KNOWN LOCATION: BOGOTA, COLUMBIA
LAST MISSION: DEEP COVER INFILTRATION ASSIGNMENT-GUILLERMO CARTEL
MISSION STATUS: UNKNOWN/DEACTIVATED
MISSION REVIEW: PIERCE, JOHN, MENTOR (recommendation to cnxl-L7. Sand, Madeline)
JOHN PIERCE RECOMMENDATION FOR CANCELLATION APPROVED (06-30-97)
JOHN PIERCE CANCELLATION COMPLETED (07-09-97)
OPERATIVE REVIEW: CRUZ, EVELYN (recommendation to cnxl-L7, Sand, Madeline)
EVELYN CRUZ RECOMMENDATION FOR CANCELLATION APPROVED (07-02-97)
EVELYN CRUZ CANCELLATION APPEAL FILED-(07-09-97)
CANCELLATION REVIEW: CANCELLATION ORDER UNDER REVIEW-L9; Wolfe, Paul
EVEYLN CRUZ DEACTIVATED/OUTPOST RECOMMENDATION-L9; Wolfe, Paul
EVELYN CRUZ OUTPOST PLACEMENT APPROVED (07-15-97)
PERSONNEL FILE: DEACTIVATED/CLASSIFIED...FILES LOCKED...ADVISEMENT (SEE L9: Wolfe, Paul)
There was no more to read from the file. Michael sat back in his seat, a little taken aback. Evelyn had been in Guillermo's camp as a deep cover agent for some time before she was pulled out, possibly just after Simone arrived there. It was likely where she met her and possibly recruited her to Black Skull. He wondered why it was that Evelyn's mentor was cancelled. There were many reasons why an operative, regardless of their status, could be cancelled, but the order normally came with further details for the recommendation. Whomever John Pierce was, Madeline had made the recommendation and had the order carried out promptly. There seemed to be some kind of disagreement when it came to Evelyn's cancellation order. Michael had never heard of anyone being granted an appeal. He was not even aware that someone could request one given that most of the time, whenever an operative was slated for cancellation, it was normally carried out. Somehow, Evelyn had managed to convince Operations to not approve her recommendation to be cancelled, but instead, have her imprisoned at the Outpost. The agreement was probably that she could never leave it once she was placed, but at least she would remain alive. Evelyn had said she had found a way out of Section, that she had done it once before. It was clear from the file that she was not completely deleted from Section. Operations still knew her whereabouts even with her satellite tracker being deactivated. He wondered what she meant by knowing a way out of Section and having done it before.
Aside from this, it interested Michael to know what Evelyn's primary function was at Section before she went undercover. It was a position he would have never wished upon any woman at Section, but knew it was something that occurred very often. Courtesan Operatives were deemed the lowest of the low being that many Valentine Operatives were trained in the Art of Seduction by using them as test targets. Valentines were often graded on nearly every part of their method even down to their expertise at love making. Some Courtesans were used specifically as bed partners, coaching Valentines on how to move and behave in the bedroom, what signs and hints to look for in their partners, and what positions worked best to gain maximum ecstasy. Almost all of them were given lessons in both Tantric sex and the Kamasutra making them powerful, yet woeful lovers. They were never sent on missions outside of the Section, and only used to periodically test operatives to make sure they could still perform. They were required to host multiple partners and were always under the watchful eyes of Surveillance. The worst part of their station was that they were truly Section property. They could have no control of their bodies and what Section wanted to do with them. Both the men and women were sterilized and made to undergo surgeries to give them the proper enhancements to make them appealing to just about anyone that came into contact with them. From what he had seen of Evelyn, he did not figure she had gone through the surgeries as her natural beauty was sufficient enough. Maybe her headstrong charm got her sent into Guillermo's camp after proving to be a bit less cooperative with holding to her Courtesan duties. It was probably Madeline's intention to simply leave her there in Bogota, and maybe it was her mentor that pulled her out. If that were the case, then he could certainly see why Madeline ordered him killed.
Michael checked his watch. It was nearing 7pm. His stomach had long since given up reminding him to eat. Now it just ached and felt hollow. He rose from his seat and left the room. He knew there would be food upstairs in the kitchen, but he dared not eat anything prepared there. Not even with having the vial safely stored away in his own wardrobe locker. He could not trust that there might be something else slipped into his food or drink to mimic the effects of the Casper drug. He walked back to Evelyn's office and slipped in, avoiding being seen by a pair of recruits heading upstairs for dinner. Before long, he gauged most if not everyone was out of the bunker and upstairs eating. He searched through Evelyn's desk for the keys to the golf cart. After searching through several drawers, he found a set of keys which he hoped one would start the cart. He moved quickly out to the tunnels and sat in the parked cart to try the first key. There were twelve in all, some of which looked like copies of others, until he came to one that actually slipped into the keyhole. He turned it and, to his relief, heard the engine of the cart cough up to a gentle hum. He drove the cart down the tunnels, following the path he had memorized to go from the bunker to the garage. Once there, he parked and made his way through the building. He went into the restroom and pried open the bathroom window leading out into the alley. He pulled himself through the narrow window and jumped down to the concrete below. He was grateful he had decided to wear jeans and a plain black t-shirt instead of what he normally put on as he had no way of knowing he would be doing all of this just to get a bite of something to eat that wasn't tainted with a mind control drug. He figured he probably could have called Romeo to take him some place, but at that point, he was not certain if he could even trust him. Birkoff had told him that all the names of the recruits Evelyn had requested from Section were all cancelled abeyance operatives. It was plain that Operations was the only person that knew more about Evelyn being that he was the only person authorized to access her files. He was the one to order her placement at the Outpost, and the one to overturn Madeline's decision to cancel her. It was clear as well that Operations either did not know what Evelyn was actually doing while at the Outpost, or he simply did not care. Either way, she had been left to conduct business as she saw fit, and managed to stay completely under Section radar while doing her many clandestine activities.
Michael chuckled a little to himself as he walked out to the street, heading towards a cluster of buildings, one of which he hoped was an open diner. It was a bit of irony for Operations to have sent him to Texas to learn more about guerilla warfare and how to conduct such a mission, only to have Section used as the perfect scapegoat for a Black Skull inside operation against the cartels. Evelyn had said it from the beginning that Blak Skull did not really exist partly because it was made up of operatives who were not only dead, but acting in only suicide missions. If he went back to check the names of the existing recruits currently in the house, he was sure they would all come up cancelled as well. It all made for an easier clean up for each mission. If everyone died, there would be no threat of information being leaked. No one could verify whether or not Black Skull ever existed.
*Those that need to know, know. Those that don't need to know, don't know*.
Evelyn had not just been talking about the tunnels and where the other stations were. She was talking about how Black Skull operated. The recruits had no way of knowing if they were going to come back from their missions. They had no knowledge of their abeyance status, or the fact that Evelyn intended to use them as moving bait to get to her targets. She had promised to keep him safe, likely because she saw much more value in having him alive and working with her than dead and not being of much use at all to her cause. His connection to Section was what she needed to accomplish her goal of blowing up the drug lab. After it was all over, he would have to make a choice. Either stay with her and continue her mission, or return to Section and deal with a war that would be inevitable after Section gets the blame for the lab's destruction.
Michael walked across the street to the diner, happy to see that it was open and serving. He took a seat in a booth and opened the menu left on the table. The food was an American staple of burgers, fries, and hot dogs of various preparations. Michael settled on just a burger and fries just as his waitress, a young looking latino girl with her black hair pulled into a messy ponytail, approached the table.
"Qué necesitas?"
"Si, me encantaria una hamburguesa y patatas fritas."
"Y beba?"
"Solo agua por favor."
"Gracias, un momento."
The waitress twisted off towards the back where she tacked up her ticket and yelled the order in spanish to the cook. Michael sat a moment, allowing himself to slip further into deep thought. No matter how much he wanted to go along with Evelyn's plan to save the innocent, he could not help but also want to keep Section out of such a messy fight. There would be no winners in it. Operations would not be able to stop the cartels from invading Section controlled territories if trust was breached by taking out Oscar Guillermo and his cartel. Like it or not, Michael knew he could not touch the drug lord, and neither would Section. It would not matter if the cartels kidnapped the President of the United States' daughter and dog, Section would not lift a finger towards saving either of them if it meant that the cartels would remain in their place allowing Section to do what it did best. Keep the evils under control.
*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...Does make it hard to convince her of another course of action though. Girl is bull headed if I've never seen one before.*
The waitress returned with his plate of food and drink. She smiled quickly and dismissively as she returned to the counter to begin cleaning. Michael looked over his food and considered just eating the bread. The lettuce looked wilted and the tomato a bit too soft now. The only thing that did not look like it had been sitting in a hot kitchen was the meat with its newly chard lines indicating a grill prep as opposed to a flat fryer. He took a bite and chewed mainly because his stomach forced him to and not because he really wanted to. Thankfully, it didn't taste like it looked. He continued eating, venturing to try the fries next. A couple sat on the far end of the diner having what looked like a very intimate conversation. The girl, a brunette with a kind face and way too much eyeshadow, sat across from a swarthy skinned boy with black hair and glasses. Their hands were entangled with one another as they stared longingly into each other's eyes. The boy pressed across the table and kissed the girl quickly on her lips. She smiled. Their plates were only partially touched. The boy settled back into his seat. Their hands remained together.
Michael looked down. He could no longer ignore the ache he felt within watching the young couple. Even here, out in the middle of nowhere, he could not escape Section's evil twisting as it turned the screws tighter about him, squeezing what little life he had left out. Only just a day ago, it had been him sitting across from a lovely soul, drinking her smile in large portions and greedily asking for more. Each time he hungered for her touch, she satiated him thoroughly and with glutinous repetition so that he did not ever know want. The heat of her kiss warmed him and seeded dreams of leaving Section entirely to begin anew with her.
*What will it take for you to let it go?...Whatever it is that you think Section gave to you to keep, it will take it back. Once it's done with you, it'll leave you out in the cold...alone.*
He had seen Section in all of its many guises, pretending to be saviors when all that it was and would ever be, a prison. It might have saved him from being executed by the government for his crimes against humanity, but the execution itself only stayed. He had only traded a quick death for a long, drawn out one that ate at him from the inside out. He had not escaped the process, only altered the speed at which it devoured him. He had only increased the maximum amount of pain it would inflict by accepting to become an operative. Had he known what sort of life he would lead, all the horrors he would witness, and the evils he would have to endure, he would have chosen the firing squad in haste. What he was living, *surviving*, was not life. Even the lives he brought into the world were not exempt from their fate so long as they remained connected to him. He had brought death to so many countless others. Death was his constant companion, the only partner Section would not take from him, but rather made him to lie in bed with it. He could never truly consider himself lonely. Section had made sure that he would have plenty of company adding to his harem lies, secrets, manipulations, and deceits for him to care for and feed at his table. It was not a wonder why he always preferred the color black to any other color. It was the color of his heart, the one everyone else swore he did not have. To the contrary, he did have one, but like the Tin Man, it was always broken.
Michael looked out towards the street, noticing car lights flash by along the somewhat desolate road. The lights turned into the shopping center where the garage stood and parked in front of it. Michael noticed the make of the vehicle being the same type as the one Evelyn drove. From his distance in the diner, he could barely make out the color, but he knew that it was dark. Moments later, a person fitting Evelyn's familiar frame hopped out of the vehicle and started towards the front of the garage. The person searched for keys before opening the shop door and entering the building.
Michael took one last draw from his water and put down enough money to pay for the meal and give a decent tip. He wiped off his hands and left the table. On the street, he saw that the vehicle parked at the garage was, indeed, Evelyn's jeep. Inside was still dark. Michael cautiously drew closer, his instincts telling him to be careful and silent. He tried the door and found it locked again. Either Evelyn had no intentions of letting anyone else in after her, or she meant to keep the doors locked until someone else showed up. Michael circled back around to the side of the building where the window to the bathroom he had crawled out of earlier remained open. He jumped and pulled himself back up into the narrow window, ignoring the small scrapes on his stomach as he grazed himself over the brick. Carefully, he lowered into the bathroom and crept out. His eyes darted warily into the darkness, adjusting slowly to the deepened shadows crowding the walls. He could hear Evelyn somewhere in the building speaking on her phone. Her tone was soft and pleasant as she told whomever she was speaking with where she was and asked how long it would be before they got there.
Michael felt his heart tug a little at the sound of her voice. He did not smell her scent, but that no longer mattered. Just the knowledge of her presence was making him hunger for her once more. He breathed out long to steady himself and bring his thoughts back. Inside the garage office, Evelyn finished her call. He could hear her pacing a bit, shuffling from one side of the room to the next nervously. He could nearly sense her tension as she waited. He wondered what had gotten her so unnerved.
Evelyn sat down at the desk.
Michael pulled closer so that he stood just outside the office door. From where he stood, he could partially see Evelyn sitting in the worn leather office chair, waiting. There was heavy concern coloring her expression. A moment more passed before her phone rang again. Evelyn quickly snapped it up and answered it. She was on her feet a second later and heading out the office in a few brief steps. Michael receded back into the shadows, hoping that she did not catch wind of him, or sense him being there. She passed by him, unaware as she started towards the front of the garage to open the door. Michael waited, taking refuge behind a table full of garage tools. A few minutes passed before Evelyn returned with another person trailing behind her. The man was dressed in a leather jacket, dark colored jeans, and motorcycle boots. From the darkness, Michael could make out that the man had dark hair, kept trimmed, but not neatly, a mustache and goatee, and tanned almost sienna colored skin. He was of definite latin descent by the look of him, but not like the ones common to the area. His features were much more sharply designed with a hint of european origins in them. The both of them disappeared into the office. Michael returned to his place by the door, just out of sight.
"We have to move and we have to move now. We can't wait another day," the man was saying as they entered the office.
"I know that," said Evelyn. "I'm working on another plan right now seeing as how Danvers is dead. I thought you were going to protect him?"
"I couldn't. Not without blowing my cover," said the man. "I didn't know about the raid. It was never communicated, at least not through the normal channels. It still doesn't change anything."
"We need another way in. We can't go in without some sort of cover. My entire team will get wiped out before we get anything done."
"Have you given him the file yet?"
"Yes. He has it," said Evelyn.
"And? Has he given it to Section?" The man sounded slightly impatient.
"I don't think he has, at least not yet," said Evelyn.
"Well, what's keeping him? Everything Section needs to move on the lab is right there on the file."
"He says it's not enough to make Section move. He wants to avoid an all out war between Section and the cartels. He believes even though Guillermo is trying to gain access to the test weapon, Section won't move unless he actually has it."
"If we wait until Guillermo gets the weapon, there won't be any point in destroying the lab…"
"And Pressly will be long gone by then…"
There was an audible sigh from the man. Michael searched the darkness and found a piece of metal with a reflective surface. He wiped it clean with the bottom of his shirt just enough so that he could get a better image of what was going on inside the office. He bent down low, squatting and held the metal at an angle so that he could see into the room without being immediately detected. He saw the man leaning up against the desk, his arms folded across his chest. Evelyn stood back from him, also with her arms crossed and looking truly distraught.
"What do you want to do then?" the man asked.
"We can't wait," said Evelyn. "Even if he doesn't help us, we can't stand still and let Guillermo go through with that deal. If he trades her for the money, we might not ever find her again."
"You'll lose your team if you go through with it alone. Everyone. Maybe even yourself included."
"That's the risk that I'll have to take then. To make sure that she gets out alive."
The man stood up and took Evelyn by her shoulders. He looked her deeply in her eyes. His expression was that of concern and care. He drew in a little closer towards her. Michael felt himself becoming slightly tense.
"I'm not willing to take the same risk. Not with you," he said in a near hushed voice. "I can't lose you again."
"She's my niece, Niko."
"We'll find her again. I swear to you. I will do everything in my power to make sure we find her again. I just can't let you do this. Not in this way. You'll be killed."
"It's my niece…" Evelyn's voice broke, allowing out the emotions she was trying to keep packed within. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as tears began to build in her eyes.
Niko pulled Evelyn to him and crushed her within his embrace. He held her tightly as her shoulders moved with her sobs. Michael watched with growing tension as Niko comforted Evelyn, rubbing her back and nuzzling up against the side of her head. Slowly, Evelyn wrapped her own arms around his waist, holding him in return. The two of them looked like old lovers standing in the office. Michael turned the mirror so that he could not see them. He was finding it hard to concentrate as his thoughts and emotions became entangled in conflict with one another. The sight of Evelyn being so familiar with the man made him feel like he was being betrayed even though he knew this was not the case. He had always known that Evelyn was in love with someone else, the same as he was. He had told her the very thing the night he began having hallucinations of Nikita while they were having sex. Niko, after all, was her partner, the person she created Black Skull with. He was the NSA agent she retrieved the file from to give to him so that he could leak it to Section. It had all been a part of their plan, maybe even right along with the Casper drug, of which now seemed to be working at its most dangerous toxicity. He was aware now of its side effects and its withdrawal symptoms, which were making him doubt his mind even more. He was becoming sweaty and nervous, unable to stay still for very long. He flipped the mirror back towards the room to see what was going on and immediately regretted doing so. In the reflection he saw Niko and Evelyn locked in a passionate kiss. Michael pulled the mirror down again and shut his eyes tight. He could hear them kissing again before they settled back from one another. Michael slowly redirected the mirror back inside the room.
"Do whatever you can to get him to agree," said Niko. "He has to send that information tonight so that Section moves by the end of the week. Once Section arrives, we can make the necessary adjustments to get you out as well. We can't wait any longer. Where is he now?" Niko continued to hold Evelyn to him.
"Still at the bunker. He's probably done eating by now and will likely be in his room working."
"Does he suspect anything? Does he suspect you?"
"No. I'm sure by now he's probably wondering where I am, though. I don't normally miss dinner."
"Get back to him. Convince him to leak the file."
"What do you want me to do?" Evelyn looked up into Niko's eyes.
"You're very clever," said Niko with a sly smile. "I'm sure you can come up with a *few* ways to persuade him. You've been able to hold him to you this long."
Evelyn pulled away from Niko.
"I'm not so sure it will be that easy to convince him. He's not like the others. I think Section may have their claws in him too deeply. There's something he's not quite willing to let go of. Something he's afraid he will lose if he exposes Section."
"You think it might be another woman?" asked Niko, returning his arms to their folded position.
"Maybe," said Evelyn, her mind turning in thought. "But not just any woman...and it's not *just* the woman. He has made it clear that if he does go through with this, it won't be because of any feelings he has left for his wife. He will do it as a favor to me, but he will only go so far. He won't leave Section."
"Then he doesn't have to leave Section," said Niko, his tone very dark. "You gave him the option. He made his choice. He and Section can die together. It won't matter either way. If he wants to die, then he can die, so long as you get free. It's all that I care about anyway."
Evelyn looked as though she might cry, but instead pushed up a smile. She returned to Niko and pulled his face towards her for a kiss.
"I better go now," she said.
"When will I see you again?" Niko asked, holding on to her waist.
"I'll contact you tomorrow to let you know the next course of action...Whether he is in, or he is out."
Niko nodded and released Evelyn. Niko turned and walked out the office followed by Evelyn. They went towards the front of the garage and walked out the door, locking it behind them. Michael remained in the shadows, slipping back through the garage towards the back room where the golf cart was parked. He drove the cart as quickly as he could make it go back towards the bunker all the while reviewing all that he had heard. Niko and Evelyn meant to create a war, one that would create many more casualties than just the operatives they were planning to use for the mission. He saw now the real plan that Evelyn was concocting with her partner Niko. It wasn't the fear of weapons being handed over from one power to the next, or the noble deed of trying to rescue young women from being trafficked. Evelyn's focus had been on finding her niece. It had always been her aim. The lies she told from the beginning were only said to test his dedication towards what Section heralded as its mission statement.
To protect the innocent.
Would he truly work to protect the innocent, or would he need a deeper reason to want to help? When it seemed he did not want to move, it was when she used her other bit of leverage to persuade him. Simone's handkerchief. He was beginning to believe now that Simone likely never gave her the small piece of fabric, but instead had it stolen from her. How Evelyn wound up with it was anyone's guess, but maybe it had been her plan all along to pull him into her plan of escape. Simone had tried to get him to leave with her from Section, but she never exactly stated how this could be done. After she became pregnant, she began bringing up the idea of leaving Section more often, but by then, Michael was heavily invested and could not leave. By the time the Glass Curtain mission came about, Simone no longer spoke to him about leaving Section, or about anything for that matter. Their relationship was deteriorating quickly and it was only a matter of time before they eventually severed just by the simple damages caused by Section's interference into their lives. Section did not need to kill her to break them apart. The rigors of their missions coupled with the loss of their child had done the work for them, separating them both physically and emotionally so much so that it was simple for him to follow orders and deny Simone support. It wasn't that he did not love her, it was that he realized that he no longer needed her close to him any longer. Section had fulfilled so much that had been left void in his life that having her bound to him became not only a danger to both their lives, but an unfortunate nuisance as well. He would much rather go on pretending a life of marital bliss with a wife that he knew Section would not work so diligently to kill, than try to preserve one destined to be destroyed. He had not wished for her to be taken by enemy terrorists, nor would he have stood by to watch her be trafficked into the sex trade. If he had known she was alive all those years ago, he would have broken every Section protocol to rescue her, risking his life, and likely dying in his attempt to free her. Even when Section told him that she was lost forever, he continued to search for her. As time went on, his efforts lessened and he had all but accepted it until…
Michael made it back to the bunker and went quickly to his room. He went into his wardrobe locker and found his pistol and ankle holster. He thought about what he might do if he had to confront Evelyn. He would not want to hurt her, but he could not trust what she would do or how far she would go. If she was willing to sacrifice him and all of her recruits to free herself from Section, he could guess she was willing to go as far as she needed.
Michael loaded the pistol and secured the holster to his leg. He slipped the pistol into the sleeve and pulled his pants leg down over it to conceal it. He went back into the closet and searched through his equipment bag where he found a switchblade knife. The drug continued to paint odd images in his mind of Evelyn dressed seductively in lingerie he wished he could see her in, dancing to music and looking at him with desire. He remembered her hands touching him, tracing lines of pleasure over his skin. She had brought him to his knees with only the sound of his name whispered on her soft and supple lips. His heart beat hard in his chest whenever she was close to him, urging him to taste her once more, and knowing it would never be enough. He would always want more. Even as he stood at his wardrobe, his mind began to wander towards abandoning his plan and return to her waiting arms. All could be forgiven if he only succumbed to her will and submitted to her. He could have her again.
*You bring me so much pleasure, but I know I cannot truly have you... Wanting you, but not having you. It is the way I've had to be with everyone.*
Michael closed his eyes.
His thoughts continued to swim with conflicting images of Evelyn, then Nikita, and finally Simone. A dull ache slowly began at the center of his forehead. His mouth felt dry and the burger he ate churned sour in his gut. He could hear Evelyn's voice whispering to him, telling him she would protect him, save him from anyone trying to harm him.
But she could not protect him, Michael thought. She never planned to. She had planned to just the opposite. He could hear recruits begin to return from upstairs and file back down into the bunker. At any moment, Evelyn would return with them, no doubt heading for his room with her new mission already in full sequence. Michael pulled up his shirt. He could not trust his own thoughts with her in his presence. If she drew close to him, he could not trust that his desire for her would not cause him to change course. He needed to be able to focus himself so that he might think clearly despite the drug's influence.
Michael drew in a sharp breath before dragging the blade across his right side just above his hip bone. The sharp pain came white hot at first, pulling out all the breath he held. Blood immediately began to slide down his side and soak the top part of his pants. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to be considered lethal. He figured he would likely need stitches, but he would address that later. For the moment, he found some gauze and bandage tape to shore up the cut. The pain dulled only a little, but it was enough to keep him concentrated on what he needed to do once Evelyn arrived in his room. As the music began in the quarters, he lay down on his bed and waited. A few minutes later, he heard a soft tap at his room door.
"Knock, knock…"