Michael took a mouthful of his coffee and finally looked at Nikita. His lips parted just a little and then closed again. Something was struggling in his eyes as if wanting to get out but being inevitably trapped there.

'When I first came into Section,' he finally managed. 'I was just like any other recruit: angry, afraid, weak.'

'It's hard to believe,' Nikita smiled playfully.

Michael's lips twitched in a strained way.

'Simone was brought in the same year,' he continued. 'If I hadn't met her then I don't know what would have become of me.'

7 years ago

Madeline entered the perch and stood next to Operations who was reviewing data on his station.

'Where are we on the Bright Start location?' he asked without looking up from the screen.

'Brian found a trace to a document forger in Brooklyn. We are working up a profile now but I need your approval.'

Paul raised his head and looked at Madeline over the rim of his glasses.

'Is there anything unusual?'

The chief strategist smiled and handed him a panel. Operations studied it for a minute and then scoffed.

'I understand why you need Wu, but Samuelle's been with us what… nine months?'

'Eight and a half, actually,' Madeline corrected. 'His numbers are unprecedented. I think it's high time we tested him in the field.'

'It's too early,' Paul shook his head. 'Use someone from Level One.'

'I disagree. Michael is stifled here. He is anxious to go live. A simple enough mission will keep him focused before final evaluation.'

Paul's eyebrows lowered over the bridge of his nose.

'You spend enough time with him as it is,' he said through his teeth. 'Now the whole Section needs to babysit him through a mission!'

'I don't think he'll need babysitting,' Madeline persisted.

Operations wheezed and looked at his colleague.

'Fine!' he said finally. 'But if he screws up he goes back to standard training, and I don't want to hear another word about it.'

Madeline smiled and left the perch before Paul could reconsider. She knew he was steaming with jealousy and would never admit it.

Michael walked briskly down a corridor, his face solemn and concentrated. His schedule was so packed now he barely had time to eat. On top of combat and munitions, he had Valentine training on an accelerated clock and he was surprised how thoroughly Section had researched the subject. Since teenage years he had never had much trouble with girls but it was never a sport to him. He liked women, he liked taking care of them and being the cause of their pleasure. He never had to think twice before approaching someone but Section had it all figured out. Women — and men — were presented as carefully wound up mechanisms with a certain number of buttons to be pushed. They could be assembled and disassembled in a matter of seconds, and it was the purpose of a Valentine Op to learn this process and perform it at will.

'There are eleven types of a female orgasm. Most women go through life having experienced only one or two types. The power of a female orgasm is greatly underestimated. You may have heard that women don't care much about sex, that the emotional component of a relationship is more important to them. This is a lie stemming from the fact how much harder it is for a woman to achieve climax. Conversely, when it is achieved, it interferes with their judgment far more effectively than in a male. Women's physiology is closely intertwined with their psyche, whereas men function more sequentially. In other words, if you fuck a woman to an orgasm, she'd think she must be in love with you. If you fuck a man to an orgasm, he'd just think it was a great fuck.'

As she said this, Lydia's face was as impassive as if she was talking about stock exchange. The more sessions Michael had with her, the less he thought he'd ever be able to feel romantic about a woman again. He was being relentlessly schooled in every aspect of seduction: behavior patterns on approach, body language, voice modulation, mirroring, reaction assessment and, of course, the step-by-step physiology of it. The wonder and mystery of the process he had experienced as a boy were methodically taken away from him. He wondered if by completing his training he would lose all feeling at all. Every morning his body did the same old trick only now it seemed like a sick joke. The arousal never reached his mind or his heart now, it stopped somewhere in the spine and became an atavistic reaction. He had no use for it now. He couldn't even imagine touching himself. Whether he should thank his training for that or Amelia, he couldn't really tell.

He was turning a corner when his eye caught something strange ahead. It looked like a heap of clothes sticking out from behind radiator panels. As he drew nearer, he realized it was breathing hard, almost whimpering. Dark oriental eyes looked at him out of a grey recruit hoodie.

'Do you need help?' Michael asked the girl.

She was tiny, almost a child. The smallest size of recruit uniform was obviously too big for her. She squeezed herself into a ball and clutched at her side.

'What happened?'

Michael reached out his hand and helped the girl to her feet. Her head didn't even reach his shoulder. She swayed dangerously from side to side and wheezed out ragged breaths.

Finally, she whispered:

'I think… I almost got raped.'

Michael's hand dropped and his face contorted in disgust. A cold snake slithered in his guts.

'Tell Madeline one test-drive was enough,' he spat and turned on his heel.

Five minutes later on the shooting range he didn't only imagine his own face in the bull's eye.

The next day Michael was called to Madeline's office. He expected a reprimand of sorts and prepared himself for consequences. His suspicions only grew worse as he saw the tiny Asian female sitting straight as an arrow opposite the chief strategist.

Madeline welcomed Michael with a smile and motioned to another chair.

'Simone Wu — Michael Samuelle,' she said in introduction.

The girl stood up and reached out her hand.

'Nice to meet you,' she breathed out staring at Michael levelly.

Her fingers were so delicate he had a sudden impulse to brush them with his lips instead of squeezing inside his big coarse palm.

'A pleasure,' he mumbled.

They sat down and Madeline slid two panels towards them across the table.

'We are going to be using both of you in an upcoming mission,' she started to explain. 'This is not common practice but it can't be helped. You'll receive all necessary assistance but I want you to understand one thing. This is not a drill. If you fail, you cannot start the exercise anew. Mistakes are not an option.'

Simone's finger shook slightly as she scrolled down her panel. Michael felt a burn of excitement in his stomach.

'What's the mission?' he asked.

'A tattoo parlor in Brooklyn covers as a front for a group of low-level criminal offenders. They sell drugs, forge documents and organize burglaries. Nothing major but we believe they have been contacted by the Bright Star and we'd like to investigate. The target is Alice Shaw, a promising young woman with various talents. Simone will be our way in, as they are well acquainted. Michael, your job is to divert Alice's attention while Simone gathers data from the computer and then bring the girl in.'

'Looks simple enough,' Michael commented.

His mouth sank with disappointment.

'It is simple,' the chief strategist nodded. 'But I repeat, this is not a drill. Do not take this lightly.'

'When are we leaving?' Simone asked.

'Tomorrow. Take time to study your panels and come to my office before briefing to get your clothes.'

The two recruits nodded and stood up to leave. As the door closed behind them, Michael opened his mouth to apologize for earlier but Simone did not even look at him and disappeared down the hall.