The mission moved faster than Michael had anticipated. He made contact with Charlie who turned out to be just as Billy had described him — a lovesick young man who kept biting down tears and fumbling with bed covers as he spoke about 'dangerous men in black clothes'. They wanted passports and Alice had a talent which she paid for with her life.

Michael called Birkoff and was instructed to proceed with the meeting.

'Bring the leader alive, everyone else is expendable,' Operations ordered.

'Should we have back-up?' the operative bit his lip.

'Negative.'

Michael hung up and touched his chin looking down at the asphalt. For some reason he didn't want to bring Simone into this but he had no choice. The two days he had spent with her in the dingy apartment proved to be more peaceful than anything he had experienced for a long time. They didn't talk much but he felt relaxed around her. Relaxed — and highly aware of her presence.

'Tell me about your father,' he asked as they sat down to dinner that evening.

She gave him a long look and he was sure she'd back out now, change the subject or say it was none of his business. Then she opened her mouth and spoke softly:

'He was a surgeon. We left Hong-Kong when I was five, after my mother died. Turned out he couldn't practice medicine here. He needed to go to school and get a license and he couldn't afford it. He had to take care of me. So he became…' Simone licked her lips. '… what he became. Illegal abortions were our bread and butter, as much as knife and gun wounds. My father didn't speak English very well so I had to translate during operations. Later on I learned to do what he did. Section recruited me for medical but the aptitude test showed I had more talents than I thought.'

A big lump lodged in Michael's throat. He took a sip of iced tea and finally managed:

'I'm sorry.'

Simone shook her head slightly and moved a piece of fried carrot around the plate.

'Don't be,' she said. 'That's just life.'

They sat in silence for a few moments and Michael was sure she'd ask him about his nightmares now. He wished he could tell her about Marion — how he kept seeing her dead, how he blamed himself for every innocent life lost at the bombing, how he couldn't stand the uncertainty of what happened to his little sister after that day — but he also knew that he couldn't risk it. Baring his soul would mean signing her death warrant.

Simone looked at him out the corner of her eye as if reading his misgivings.

'So when's the meeting?' she asked.

Michael let out a breath and told her all about the profile.

They walked along wet pavement keeping in shadows. Michael scanned the road before them and listened for the tiniest sounds in the humid air. His heart thumped in his chest and he had to remind himself to think in small steps. Nothing was going on yet, they just had to reach the corner and wait there by the dumpsters.

Streetlights reflected in Simone's dark glasses and Michael wished he could see her eyes. Her face looked solemn and resolved, ready to deal with anything that life would throw at them today.

They rounded the corner and saw Charlie. His face was pale and unshaven, dark circles pooled around the eyes.

'How are you feeling?' Simone asked evenly.

'Better,' the guy breathed out loudly and combed his hand through his oily hair. 'You saved my life. Don't know what I'd do without you…'

'Any pain? Reddening around the wound? Fever?' Simone studied him with her eyes.

'No, no. It's clean. Healing like magic.'

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments none of them knowing what else to say. Then three dark silhouettes appeared down the street and Michael's heart began a short steady rhythm.

It was easy to tell the leader from the rest of the gang. He walked a few inches ahead and his beady eyes scanned his new acquaintances unceremoniously finally stopping at Simone.

'How nice of you to bring a snack,' he said chewing at a toothpick.

Michael took a step forward drawing attention to himself.

'Simone's my partner,' he replied realizing how true it was in every sense of the word. She was his partner. Someone he could finally trust.

'Too bad,' the guy licked his lips and shrugged. 'So, you got what we asked for?'

Michael nodded and reached inside his jacket. His fingers were cold but his grip was firm. He pulled out the gun and squeezed the trigger. Everything moved in slow-mo: he could almost see the bullet flying, one of the goons dropping dead to the tarmac holding to his chest. He could see the leader go wide-eyed and crimson in the face, reaching for his own gun. Michael breathed in and felt his muscles grow taut. He kicked the guy in the chest sending him to the ground, swooped down on top of him and started hitting his face. He could hear rapid breathing and muffled thumps behind him where Simone must be dealing with the other guy.

Michael grabbed his opponent by the hair and hit his head hard against the tarmac. It took two more blows before the man stopped squirming and his body went limp. Instantly the operative jumped to his feet and turned around. The other guy crushed Simone to the wall and held her by the throat, her feet dangling a few inches above the ground. He worked methodically against her ribs with his other fist.

White-hot rage burned in Michael's veins as he grabbed the thug and broke his neck in a swift flow. Simone slid down the wall coughing and holding to her throat.

'Are you all right?' his voice was hoarse and shaky. His eyes moved apprehensively around her body squeezed into a ball.

Simone nodded and stood up slowly. Michael looked around and saw Charlie lying on his face, a pool of blood gathering under his slit throat. He felt bitterness spread in his mouth and swallowed down hard. Then he lifted the leader off the ground and heaved it to his right shoulder.

'Birkoff, we got him,' he said.

A moment later a black van swerved from around the corner and the two would-be operatives crept inside.

For the next two weeks Michael did not see Simone and his mind kept returning to their brief time together on the mission. He wished they could be sent out again or paired here, in Section, for whatever purpose their superiors deemed fit. He'd be content to simply know she was around, to meet her gaze every once in a while and listen to her silences. He knew, however, that it was unlikely. He was trained on an accelerated schedule but Simone would remain a recruit for another year. They may meet sometime in the future, during one of the missions… Would she even recognize him then?

He breathed out and rubbed his chin. He was heading for the gym zone to have a go on the treadmill, a grey towel thrown casually across his shoulder. As he was passing the combat area, his heart skipped a beat. He recognized the familiar black bob and the slender frame moving in a protective stance around her trainer. A moment later she was on the floor as the man kicked under her thigh and let her fall.

'Deflect!' he screamed. 'Don't just stand there!'

Michael watched as Simone did the same mistake over and over: she tried to withstand the pain of the blow and always succumbed to its force. He rubbed his lips and approached Kitamura, their combat instructor.

'Do you mind if I try?' he asked.

The man looked him up and down in disbelief.

'You think you're better than me?' he smirked and his eyes sent arrows of disdain.

'No,' Michael answered simply and held his gaze.

Kitamura shook his head and stepped away preparing to enjoy the performance from afar. Michael looked at Simone and whispered, 'Hi'. He could swear he saw a glimpse of a smile on her lips as she nodded, and warm shivers crept down his spine.

'When I hit you, shift the weight to your other leg,' he instructed. 'Let the blow give you the momentum and use it for a round-kick.'

Simone took the stance and dropped her gaze to Michael's legs trying to anticipate the movement.

'Look into my eyes,' he whispered.

When she did, his breath snagged. He froze for a moment forgetting what they were doing, forgetting somebody was watching them. His eyes roamed around her porcelain neck wet with perspiration and traced lines along her clavicles. When he finally moved she wasn't quick enough to react and fell to the floor again.

Michael helped her up feeling a delicious tingle against his palm as she placed her fingers there.

'We'll try again,' he said softly.

He moved slower this time controlling the force of the blow and letting her adjust to the situation. Simone caught on with what he expected of her and performed a round-kick to his abdomen, not strong enough to inflict any pain but quite correct.

'Good,' Michael smiled and saw a flicker of enjoyment in Simone's dark eyes.

Kitamura inserted himself between the two of them now.

'That's enough, Michael. I'm sure she gets the point.'

Michael bowed to the instructor suppressing a smile and went to the treadmill.

Madeline poured tea into two small cups and motioned for Michael to join her. He sat down and took a few sips. The hot liquid did nothing to the chills that set deep in his stomach every time he was called in for a progress report.

'We are very please with your results,' the chief strategist began. 'You have excelled in all areas and, as far as I'm concerned, your last mission could qualify as a successful field test.'

Michael nodded feeling the 'but' sentence coming.

'However,' Madeline smiled, 'a small matter of Valentine evaluation is left behind.'

Michael's fingers went numb as he put the cup down.

'What would be required of me?' he asked.

The chief strategist paused and pierced him with her brown eyes.

'It has been decided that you perform this evaluation with me. Your primary objective is to make me forget… that you have an objective. If only for a moment.'

Michael froze and stared at Madeline unmoving.

'Is this standard procedure?' he asked finally.

'The standard procedure is weekly evaluations by each instructor in turns. We didn't think it was necessary given your initial performance.'

The operative gulped down the memories of his night with Amelia. Then he looked at Madeline and realized that she didn't just spare him the unpleasant experiences. She had been planning this all along. She wanted this to happen. Which meant that it also gave him a leverage.

'I have a request,' he said forming a steeple with his hands.

Madeline cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head to the left.

'What is it?'

'I'd like to help Simone with her training. She doesn't do well in combat and I have reason to believe she'll respond well to my approach.'

Madeline looked him up and down and her lips pulled into a thin line.

'Surely you have been warned against emotional attachment to fellow operatives?'

'Yes.'

He saw no point in denying anything. Madeline has already seen through him.

'And you still want to proceed?'

'Yes.'

Their gazes met in a silent battle. Michael was almost amazed that he could blackmail this woman — and with nothing more than his own body. Was he really that desirable that even the iron maiden lost her cool?

'All right,' Madeline concluded and turned to her screen. 'You have one week.'

Michael left the room with cold sweat running down his spine and a tremulous smile on his lips.