Chapter One

"We're in…"

A flash of light and smoke fogged the View-Comm briefly as the Strike Force Squad entered a dilapidated building. The eight-man division made their way through the lower rooms, checking the interiors for threats. After passing the first checkpoint, the point man signaled an all-clear before advancing.

"Move to Level Two," said the Director of Section One, Nikita Volker.

"Copy."

The squad leader motioned for his team to begin up the half-broken staircase.

Nikita stood with her hands on her hips. She watched a flat-screen monitor show the team move through the building, searching for their target. Her ice-blue eyes followed the Philo Strike Squad, carefully scanning the visible areas through the squad leader's camera feed. She breathed out heavily, anxiously viewing the curiously empty rooms despite intelligence reporting that the building should have been full of men guarding their target.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch?" Nikita mumbled under her breath.

"Second level is cleared," Squad leader Matthews reported.

"Keep moving. He's there."

Matthews responded with a confirming Copy and proceeded up the next staircase.

Trent Hammet tapped a command on his keyboard to focus a second camera on another operative and gained a second view. He made adjustments to the audio feed and increased the sensitivity of the microphones to pick up low current noises. Nikita glanced down at Trent, noticing his less than stressed demeanor as he relaxed back in his seat.

"Stay alert," said Nikita with a warning to Trent.

He looked up at her, his dark brown eyes registering her intensity, and sat up in his seat.

"Any luck?"

Nikita turned towards Michael as he walked into the Communications Hub. His opaque gaze swept the floor before coming to a halt at Nikita.

"They are advancing to the third level of the building," Nikita said.

Michael studied the monitors, then looked down at the output data, reading the dictated transcripts quickly before returning to Nikita.

"Has the target been confirmed?"

"They haven't made it to the top level yet. They are still clearing the lower levels. But, trust me, we'll find him," said Nikita, focusing on the monitors.

"Has he been confirmed? Are we sure that it is Al Amin and not another decoy?"

"He's in there… I know it."

"Do you?"

Nikita gave Michael a sharp look. Michael moved forward and stood directly behind Trent's seat. His shadow loomed darkly over the monitors. Trent stiffened, his expression reading clearly, his nervousness with Nikita and Michael standing over him while he worked. He reached for his glasses and slid them onto his face before checking the scanner readings for anomalies.

The team moved through the ruined halls, piercing the darkness with their scope lights before coming to a corridor bending to the right. A shallow glow of the light emitted from the end of the hall. The shadows of a group of men stretched down the length of the cracked wood paneling.

"Making an approach," said Matthews over the Comm.

"Tell them to hold back. That room has not been scanned. So we don't know what's in there," said Michael.

"We know what's in there," said Nikita, moving forward a step. "Al Amin is in that room." She pressed the call button to speak to Matthews. "Move forward. You have Go."

Michael turned and faced Nikita.

"That would be a mistake."

"If we delay, we will lose the objective."

Michael turned and leaned forward onto Trent's desk. First, he pressed the master call key. Without warning, he pulled the headset off Trent's head and placed it on his own.

"Matthews, fall back. Wait for a perimeter check before advancing."

"He doesn't need to do that. He just needs to go," said Nikita.

"Hold for scanning."

"Copy," Matthews responded.

"You're going to risk exposure," Nikita warned.

Michael reached over Trent and typed quickly, directing the satellite to perform a thermal scan. Trent pushed himself further back from the desk, allowing Michael complete control over the console. He watched as Michael expertly guided the satellite and loaded the coordinates to the building while simultaneously calling up the last bio-scan performed before the mission began.

"Has his position been confirmed by a ground team?" asked Michael, still typing.

"There wasn't any time. We had to move."

"You should have waited. You sent a team in blind."

"There was enough information to support the mission," Nikita argued.

The thermal scan finished.

Fifteen thermal signatures appeared on the screen. It was clear the Philo team was about to walk right into an ambush.

"They need to pull back." Michael turned to Nikita.

Nikita stared at the monitors, knowing what Michael said was true. There were far more men in the building than what the Philo team could handle. She felt a tremor ripple through her body, insisting she call for the team to advance anyway despite the thermal scan. Both Michael and Trent looked at her, asking without words what her next command was to be.

"Nikita," Trent called, his voice full of worry. "The men in the room are coming out."

"Tell Matthews to fall back," Nikita said quickly. "They will need to take cover before they are completely ex-."

A stream of bullets suddenly peppered over the audio. One squad member fell backward. A large hole blew through the right leg of the operative's fatigue pants, spraying the wall with bright red blood.

"It's an ambush! Fall back! Fall back now!"

A squad member pulled the injured operative out of the hall. The rest of the team took cover along the sides of the walls, ducking into rooms as bullets strafed the sides of the hall.

"Move down the staircase!"

"Negative," responded another squad member. "The path isn't clear. We're blocked."

"Who is this? Where's Matthews?" Nikita searched the monitors but could only see smoke and the jostled movements of operatives retreating down the staircase.

"It's Drummond, ma'am. Matthews is down… He's dead."

Nikita pulled in a breath.

"We need an extraction plan!" said Agent Drummond. "We're taking hits."

"Nikita, we can call in a sweep team to be there in under ten minutes," said Trent.

"Ten minutes is too long," said Nikita. "They'll be wiped out by then."

Agent Drummond directed the rest of the team to move back down the staircase. Men from inside the room flowed out, firing into the walls. The squad scrambled down the steps, returning fire. Two men from the room went down in the hall. Another fell forward but shot a Philo team member in the arm as he died. More screams and rushed directions poured from the Comm Unit's audio, creating a nightmarish image as the team hurried out of the building. One camera lay still on the floor, capturing the feet of several men as they ran past. One pair of feet paused at the camera. A moan could be heard over the audio feed. Suddenly, a single shot blasted over the audio as the camera jostled, then stilled.

Michael moved to another console and began typing coordinates to send to an UN Peacekeeper base located nearby. He tuned to a radio frequency for the soldiers and spoke quickly in French, alerting them to an attack. He kept his message brief and routed it through their communication lines to make it appear the attack was occurring against one of their forces somehow trapped within the city.

"The Casques bleus are on their way. Two minutes," said Michael.

"Drummond, get your men as far south as you can. You'll have an Evac posted at the first checkpoint entering the city," said Nikita.

Nikita pulled her headset from her ear and dropped it on Trent's desk.

"We'll need a full sanitation," said Michael, turning towards Trent with a grave look on his face. "Set up Housekeeping to clean the area once our men are out."

Trent nodded, already working towards coordinating the next maneuver.


Nikita slumped down at her desk. Defeat crept over her legs and snuggled into her lap, drawing her hands automatically down to her stomach to caress the sour sensation hanging there. She regretted ever taking on the massive assignment of capturing the Shi'a Hezbollah cleric and vowing that Section One would triumph, where all others failed.

The task seemed simple enough.

Find Elias Al Amin…

Identify him in an area…

Eliminate all other targets…

Detain Al Amin…

Transport him to Section for interviewing and discovery…

Use the information obtained to shut down as many Hezbollah and ISIS militia stations as possible to fulfill the UN Peacekeepers and the Israeli Armed Forces contract.

It was supposed to be simple.

Succinct.

It was planned to be over in a matter of weeks. However, the mission was taking much longer to complete than initially projected. Field intelligence reports were often incorrect. Transmission interceptions reported false positions of Hezbollah militia. Misinformation was deliberately fed through the message lines, causing intelligence agents to guide forces directly into ambushes, amounting to massive casualties. Although Al Amin was a lower-ranked leader, he was someone that Section believed they could get quickly instead of one of the more known leaders of Hezbollah. However, he was also proving to be just as elusive as his counterparts, and just as dangerous.

"We must take Elias Al Amin alive," said Director Karvenkovich during Section's Head Council meeting.

Nikita was a few weeks out of the Medical Lab when the contract was presented. She felt off-balanced from the injuries sustained from her kidnapping by an Ukranian Anarchist group. However, despite feeling extremely nauseated, she maintained her composure during the meeting.

"Al Amin will lead us to many other generals that control the borders and give UN troops an advantage in containing the continued threat."

"Section Two can handle the assignment," said Director Jules. "We are more than equipped to take on this Priority Assignment, and we will—"

"I've decided which division will take this assignment," Karvenkovich said, cutting off Director Jules. "It will go to Section One."

"Section One is still recruiting," Director Jules pointed out. "Since their last contract, their POS ratings have dropped significantly. So why give them this assignment if they are performing poorly on lesser contracts?"

"We can handle the assignment," Nikita spoke up. "This can be a contained endeavor."

"You are short personnel. How will you handle opposing forces?"

Nikita turned to face Director Jules' image on the video monitors at the Conference desk.

"We will not need many men to find and capture Al Amin. I'm sure I can put together a unit with what I have on my roster now."

Director Jules made a derisive sound.

"I agree with Director Jules. However, your lack of men does concern me," said Karvenkovich.

"My field teams have been in Lebanon for over a year now, gathering intel. As a result, we are better suited for the job. My new Communications leader and Munitions support have worked well to design more advanced field technology to give our operatives an advantage over the native resistance. One man can now function as both Ground Intel and Support and also combat and sweep. Our strike force is, by far, one of the best units there is at Section."

"Who will you send in to lead the team?"

"I was thinking of Agent Stephen Matthews. He is a highly decorated Level 5 Field Operative, a veteran of the Philo division. More importantly, he is familiar with the area. He has been working undercover as a cab driver inside of the city for several months now. He knows the routines of the soldiers, where they are going during certain times of the day. He will be our best option to use to locate and detain Al Amin."

Nikita tapped up the operative's file and displayed it for the rest of the Council to review.

"Matthews would be a superb choice," said Karvenkovich. "His strike team will be the best option. I agree. When can Section One mobilize?"

"Inside the week. We are still gathering intelligence from our ground team stationed nearby."

"Didn't your systems go down for half a day a few weeks ago?" Director Jules intercepted.

"We have fixed the problem, and all of our systems are back online," said Nikita, diffusing the problem quickly. She gave a sharp look at Director Jules. "We are more than capable of handling this assignment. We will be ready."

"Set the timer for Friday evening. Your first attempt will be witnessed by me here at Center and our new executive at Oversight."

"New director?" Nikita frowned with concern.

"Yes. Since George is no longer with us, and the last executive was less than honorable for the role, we have been hunting for a new liaison between the divisions and Center. You will all get to meet her soon. I'm certain you will enjoy her insight as well. She is… quite charming."

"Hmmm…" Nikita could not ignore a mild feeling of distrust in Karvenkovich's assessment.

"We will coordinate our intel with your Communications department. I'll need each division to transfer all data files to Section One to compile their information and determine the best pursuit. We will expect to be informed of your success soon, Director Volker."

"I will do my best," said Nikita.


Nikita closed down her computer and checked the time on her watch. It was not late, but late enough to know that her daughter Elizabeth would already be in bed once she returned home. She and her husband Helmut agreed that an 8:30 bedtime was more than sufficient for the growing six-year-old to get the hours of necessary sleep. Since Christmas, her daughter was understandably nervous at bedtime, and it took more than a few times to get her to settle down. Her mother was at Section's hospital. Her father was occupied with balancing being the head of Interpol's Criminal Intelligence Analysis division and the interim director for Section One. Helmut wasn't the most patient of fathers. She did not argue with him concerning his reasons for being moody. However, she took particular offense to his attitude towards her daughter. She was relieved to know that Helmut attempted to soften his speech with Elizabeth and try different methods to calm the cantankerous toddler whenever she had a tantrum.

Helmut tried to be a good father.

After her kidnapping, Nikita could only imagine the thoughts that rolled about in his mind. It was uncertain whether the plan would work. Even finding Michael and enlisting his help wasn't a guarantee of success. Despite all of Michael's training, he was slowed from years of arduous missions and the questionable practices of both Madeline and Operations in their pursuit to create optimized operatives. Michael never said that he was involved in any enhancement programs given to chosen agents. However, she was not the only agent that went through more than a few rounds of adjustments. In the end, Michael was left void of emotion and with a cracked sense of self-preservation. The only thing keeping him alive after the last ordeal with Section was his love for Adam and his un-professed love for her. She was sure that having Michael around, knowing what was widely assumed of their relationship, did not make having him remain at Section comfortable.

Rumors started again of their union, despite them never being seen together. It was just too good a romance to put down. Yet, it was their romance that was indeed put aside for the greater good of both their concentrations. Michael could not remain within Section territory after the crimes he committed against the agency. Had he stayed, the Head Council would call him to trial. He would have been indicted again for his previous offenses, along with all of his state and espionage charges. He would be convicted of high treason and sent to the gallows without consideration for his son, Adam.

His fate would undoubtedly be worse.

Not only would he witness his father be sent to jail, but he would also see him be put to death. Michael could choose death by firing squad, lethal injection, or gas chamber. Unless he hung, at which case, this could be done within his cell discreetly. Whatever properties that belonged to Michael Samuelle would be confiscated by Section and dispelled among the divisions. Adam could then look forward to spending much of his days locked away in a children's ward or bouncing from foster family to foster family until he aged out. Whatever became of him after that was left to fate. She could not expect Helmut to take on another man's child when he was already doing that with Elizabeth. Having both Elizabeth and Adam in the same household seemed overwhelming, even for her. The boy would likely resent her for getting his father killed, all because he agreed to save her life instead of remaining hidden in Canada.

The circumstance did not come into question until after Nikita was out of the Intensive Care Unit and into a recovery room. While there, she was pleased to receive visits from her daughter and Helmut, whom she noticed was behaving more guarded than before. He spoke with her as if giving a report and maintained brief eye contact. She knew what he was doing, so she did not object. Helmut was not the type of person who enjoyed too much change. He preferred to live a quiet and somber life, surrounded by absolutes and facts that would not change unless manipulated.

In this way, she saw him very much like Michael might have been had his life taken a different trajectory. The two were more alike than they cared to recognize. If it were not for how the two first met, she surmised they might have actually become friends.

Nikita chuckled at the idea as she walked down the corridor towards Transport.

For all the years she had known Michael, she could count on one hand the friends he said were made at Section. He had lots of acquaintances, of which a few were sometimes more than acquaintances. However, his inner circle was purposefully tight and difficult to penetrate. Michael would never be described as being very welcoming. He was, at the very least, accommodating and tolerant. Like Helmut, he preferred his solitary lifestyle, enjoying his own company above all else and being completely unapologetic about it. Since her ordeal, she did not once catch Michael out in the city buying groceries or lounging in a cafe. He was not at any parks with his son or showing up unexpectedly around her daughter's school, hoping to glimpse the two of them together. He had one goal in mind: to perform his contractual duty to Section, and nothing more.

Despite having risked his own life and freedom to save her, she gained very little more than a gentlemanly nod of appreciation for her gratitude. He was as blank a canvas as always. However, after being absent from Section for so many years, there was a slight difference in his demeanor. Although he was still extremely cautious and had taken residence in his old office, there was a difference in Michael. It was that difference that piqued her curiosity and made Helmut very nervous.

"Nikita…"

Nikita pressed the elevator button to call for the car. She turned and saw Michael standing at the end of the hall, hands in his pockets and frame, silhouetted by the electric blue and white lights running along the base of the floor. He walked towards her, his familiar gait closing the distance between them coolly. He stopped a few paces from her and gave an automatic, respectful nod.

"Agent Samuelle."

"Where are you headed?"

"Home."

Michael nodded again. He seemed to be full of nods. "To your husband and daughter…."

Our daughter...Nikita thought, then shook her head.

"You should be headed home yourself. There's not much left to do here that the night shift can't handle."

"I don't mind hanging about a little while longer."

"What about Adam? He's been at home all day by himself, hasn't he?"

"He's here."

"Here?"

"I've taken rooms in the Officer's Quarters."

"I didn't know you were staying here," said Nikita, surprised by the news.

"Hotels were becoming a problem. After we accepted the Amin case, it just made more sense to work and stay here, at least for a little while until we get a handle on the situation."

Nikita rolled her eyes, expressing what was not being said, but certainly understood. The Al Amin case was no more handled than it had been at its beginning.

"Well… I suppose you have finally achieved your goal of becoming a Section man completely. You're living here. You've basically become Birkoff," Nikita joked.

"Yeah," Michael said with a hint of a smile.

Nikita studied Michael's expression, noticing he was no longer as blank or non-expressive as he once was. There was tenderness and a genteel manner in his face that softened his features and made him appear almost…

Normal.

"We have a meeting with the Council tomorrow morning. They are going to want to know what went wrong during the mission." said Michael.

It was Nikita's turn to nod. "Yeah, I know. I'm preparing for the slaughter."

"Do you want me there? For support?"

The doors to the elevator opened.

"Maybe."

Michael nodded again.

Nikita stepped into the elevator. Michael turned to leave.

"Michael…"

"Yes?" He faced her.

"Do you want to meet for breakfast before the meeting?"

Michael considered the question, then returned what looked like his interpretation of a genuine smile.

"5:30?"

"Make it six. The meeting isn't until seven. You know how I am about mornings," said Nikita.

The doors to the elevator closed, leaving Nikita with a glimpse of Michael delivering a very rare vision…

A genuine smile.