Chapter 37

The office block was very active again with the arrests of both Kaufman and the sniper, and everyone available was tracking down the leads they could glean from them. The manpower was in short supply, however, due to the continuing search for Giacomo, so it landed on Michael’s shoulders to make something come of the information at hand.
Lorenzo had asked for an update meeting before ten, so Michael had shaken off the fatigue of the previous night’s movie watching and lugged his briefcase of information to the conference room. He arrived ten minutes late, as usual, but the others let it slide given the recent success he’d had.
“Good morning, Christiansen.” Lorenzo was sipping his coffee in a somewhat more relaxed state than usual, and Jean was his usual self. Ferro and Mario were there also, and Priscilla followed Michael in with updated reports from the intelligence section’s office.
“Good morning, sir.” Michael set his papers in order and sat back to let the meeting begin.
“Okay people... We have the Dante Giacomo problem lording over most of the section, but what I want to hear from you is that we are making progress on the other front.”
Ferro chose to go first, and rightly so, as she was probably the only one who had a grasp on it all.
“Chief, we are continuously interrogating the suspects and the political leader in an effort to gain every possible piece of information. The leader himself has led us to several possible FRF group cells within the legislatures and we are actively pursuing them for confirmation. Secretary Petris has authorized all-inclusive access into their backgrounds and information, but getting what we need is a matter of sorting it. To that end we are bringing in a few people from military intelligence, people we can trust, to help with the sorting and interpretation.”
“Excellent. What about the information from Miss Sommers?”
“She has been a little slow in giving anything out.” It was clear that Jean was not happy with that fact, nor the idea that he could do nothing to speed it along. “The doctors have said that she is still fairly withdrawn, though she is coming out from her shell more every day.”
“I spoke with her this morning, or tried to,” Michael spoke up. “PTSD is difficult to overcome and you can only wait on it. She did state that she wanted to see her sister. Is it possible to get her down here discreetly?”
Mario nodded his head. “I just got back from Germany. The chief at Europol has placed her under protective custody and is arranging for her to fly here on a pretense of the funeral. Miss Sommers has even been reported dead to the local papers and within Europol itself, so we have that angle covered.”
“So that buys us a few days at least before they can possibly discover that she’s still alive.”
The Chief nodded at the cloak and dagger work Mario had performed and turned his sights to the next part.
“So, we have a few days then. What do we know about the earlier attack on her at the hospital- the poisoning?”
“At first I thought that it was Kaufman that had spiked the bag, but now I’m not so sure. He did not have any access to the bag before it was picked up by the nurse. I checked through the security logs and found a doctor that could not be accounted for on the roster that day. That is, every doctor known to be on duty in the building were verified as being in specific places at the time in question. The photo I came up with doesn’t give us much, just a general description that matches everyone, but I’m fairly certain that this was the person who put the tainted bag in where the pharmacist would find it.”
Michael slid an enlarged security photo into the center of the table for everyone to look at. The man was plain, with dark hair that was neatly trimmed and the typical lab-coat.
“He knew where the camera was, because he backed away from the cabinet to avoid turning and being caught on it. He also shielded his face with a clipboard when he exited the room, and then he disappeared into an unmonitored area where we lot track on him.”
“Do you have an idea on who it is?”
“Not a name, sir, but I have my suspicions as to who they are with. I believe it might be the same person that was posing as the DEA agent in the Europol office. After we caught Kaufman I suspected that he might have been lying about that, but it turns out that there were other witnesses that remember seeing him there, so Kaufman may or may not have known that the man was working on his side. I’m leaning towards not, as tipping us off to him might seem like a good way to divert suspicion from Kaufman and get us diligently searching after a credible and verifiable second party.”
“Hmm...” Lorenzo looked to Jean for his opinion and saw the concern there. There were a lot of variables involved and some of them seemed unrelated except for the fact that they made more important events possible. “Well, we should continue to interrogate the prisoners until there is nothing left to learn, then we will lock them away quietly. As long as the woman is officially dead, there is an opportunity to learn things while the enemy is not aware. Ferro, continue following up on the leads and any further information the woman provides.”
“Yes sir.” 
“There was one more thing, Chief.” Michael wanted to get the information out before they switched topics. “Miss Sommers mentioned that one of her tormentors was not European, but American. This was while she was in the dungeon, and the man had taken a phone call.”
“American?” Jean leaned forward slightly, already reading what Michael had seen in the information. “The phone call.”
Michael nodded. “I already have the logs from that area being pulled, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to find anything.”
“Why is that?” Lorenzo wasn’t sure why he was so certain. Ferro spoke up first.
“Because it was far enough underground and behind stone that no cell-phone signals could possibly get through. The radios reportedly had problems reaching the surface.”
“Correct. I had to have Maria stand by in the basement in order to relay a message through, and even that was pretty weak. There is no way a cell-phone could make a connection.”
“So what does that leave?” Priscilla sipped her coffee and was working hard to keep up.
“The only thing I know of that can reach a place like that is a satellite phone, and one that is only available to select sources.”
“The United States intelligence services?”
“Yeah. I think the Border Patrol might have them for when they raid the Mexican tunnels. The Brits have them too, and I think the Israelis.”
“This lends itself to the DEA angle, Michael.”
“Yes, but there are other possibilities I’m considering. I hope to know more in a few days.”
“So what we are doing now is waiting to see what turns up on that problem. Lets move on to the CIA’s attempts to gain our information. What do we have on that, Christiansen?”
Michael passed a folder to Lorenzo, a folder containing the better part of his plan for the final moves, as well as a copy of the falsified information to be passed along.
“Jamie and I are heading to a resort up north to meet with Randall Smith. I’ve told him that we are getting a few days away from here to conduct an investigation in Milan and that it will be a perfect time to disappear. He said he would arrange for transport the second day we are there, if the data checks out.”
“Is there any chance he suspects you?”
“A chance? There is always a chance, but I feel confident that I have taken care of everything in such a way that he has seen only what I have allowed him to.”
“And this information that you will pass off?”
“The lab techs have made it in such a way that it looks factual, but the crucial elements are missing and replaced with something that looks real enough. Numbers slightly off, materials completely wrong, and other things like that. Even if he can say that it is wrong, it’s close enough that he could expect someone like myself to be fooled. I will make every effort to prevent this from getting out, however, as it does provide some insight into the design and can be used as a starting point.”
“And when will you finish him?”
“The next night when we move to leave.”
Lorenzo gauged the man across from him, the same as he had the first time they had met. Michael Christiansen was a hopeful prospect back then- the chance to expand the horizons of the Social Welfare Agency with the knowledge of a CIA operative.
Since that time he had proven to be both a blessing and a curse. They could not have anticipated what a problem Christiansen would bring upon them in his vendetta, but Lorenzo could also blame no one but himself for allowing Christiansen to travel the path he had. Even if he had restrained Michael, he would have found a way to move on his own, such was the heart of the man. 
His cyborg, as well, had shown the same recklessness and cautiously effective ruthlessness as her handler. Michael did not control her so much as guide her in the way she needed to go, like aiming a rocket and letting it fly without caring where it landed, so long as it was within a defined set of boundaries. He promoted her sense of self, her voicing of opinion, and a continuation of her normal life without a thought as to what problems it would cause the agency. 
He was helping her to live out her life in a way that she could enjoy. The things that the other cyborgs experience was not good enough for Jamie; he wanted more for her. Michael wanted for her to choose her destiny, to be ready at a moment’s notice for her opportunity to make her life-defining decision. But what he refused to believe was that her life had already been decided for her.
The girl was a dreadnought, a machine designed to be the most powerful young woman in existence, with a lethality and mental disposition to match. His blindness to her intended purpose was intentionally upheld, as the only way he could define his own existence was to have someone that viewed him in a place higher than their self. Jamie was the most important thing to him because he needed to feel the love she gave him. His life lacked purpose without praise from others, a somewhat detestable way to live in Lorenzo’s opinion.
But Michael was also an excellent agent. When he moved it was with an effectiveness that was hard to combat, an instinctual genius that was only evident afterwards, and luck that was enviable. His only flaw in this was that his confidence often controlled his effectiveness, for better or worse.
As he looked in Michael’s eyes this time it was much as he had been before going back to Paris. The confidence was higher this time, in fact, and that meant that it would likely proceed as he had planned.
“Proceed with the mission, Christiansen. Kill the man, keep it clean, and return promptly. We can’t afford to lose you to Amherst and his people while the Giacomo situation is so volatile.” A little ego boost never hurt things.
“Yes, sir.”
Jean and the chief stood and exited, and Mario offered a good luck handshake that Michael accepted.
“If you need my help, don’t be afraid to call.”
“Thanks, Greco. If I don’t see you before then, be sure to have a good time in Florida. Bring back a beach bunny on each arm.”
Mario laughed and shrugged. “I’m not that good with women, but I’ll certainly try.” He left and Priscilla followed, having become Mario’s personal intelligence analyst for a few days and having to try to keep up with his constant moving around.
Ferro shuffled her papers and stacked them in her briefcase before standing and stepping over to face Michael with a serious look on her face. Michael could not tell whether she was unhappy about something or if she was just being her usual self, a difference that was usually only visible if you had her previous actions to reflect on.
“Something wrong, Ferro?”
“No. I just hope you know how to cover your tracks well enough. I’ve asked Lorenzo if I could go along to provide a little interference if necessary, but he denied my request.”
There was something in her eyes that Michael felt reflected her heart for once. He could not figure out if she was concerned for him, the agency, or just wanted a bit more of the excitement that seemed to follow him around, but she definitely seemed like she wanted to be there with him.
“Are you saying that you’re worried about me?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, a hand that she instantly brushed off with a disgusted look.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Michael. My concern is for the safety of the agency and it’s secrecy. Given your record, it would be careless of me not to consider the damage you could cause if left unsupervised.”
She really wanted to go, but was too professional to say so for fear that it would reflect on her willingness to do her job. Michael flashed back to those hours they had spent stuck together in Switzerland and how it had been the one time he had seen her truly relax as she accepted her fate.
“I can’t stop you from following me up there, Ferro, but the risks are pretty high. I’d imagine that Smith has information on all of us and will be looking for anyone from the agency as a sign that I am setting him up.”
“Yes. I would certainly be that careful if I were in that position. Just don’t become careless or narrowly focused. Its all those people need to get inside your head.”
“I’ll be careful, Ferro. Besides, Jamie is hitting a stride almost alongside my own, so they probably wont make it past her.”
“Lets hope so.” 
She was gone, her warm and sunny personality leaving along with her and making Michael appreciate the fact that he had some time on the range with Jamie today. Jamie warmed his heart in a way that he desperately needed during the pre-mission jitters.

The halls had quieted down into the mid-morning calm that followed breakfast but preceded lunch, and Jamie found it relaxing as she rubbed her bed-head and grabbed a bowl of fruit to tide her over until lunch. Claes was the only one still in the dining hall and she looked up at Jamie for a moment before returning to her book.
“Morning, Claes.”
“Good morning, Jamie. You’re waking up late today.”
“Heh, I guess so.” She settled into a seat across from the younger girl, biting into an apple. “I was with Michael pretty late last night.”
Claes blinked, unsure as to what Jamie was trying to achieve by revealing such knowledge. There were always rumors flying about in the dorms, there really wasn’t a way around it with girls, but the things that had been going around about the older two second-gen cyborgs and their respective handlers was something herself and Triela had been working to keep from the younger girls. They simply would not understand, really, and probably should not.
“Jamie, can I make a personal suggestion?” 
“Hm?” Jamie swallowed the bite of apple that she had been loudly crunching on. “Sure, go ahead.”
“You should really keep that kind of information to yourself. Rico and Henrietta really do not need to know about such things.”
A confused look was fired back from the other side of the table as Jamie thought about her comment and worked it around to figure out why Claes seemed upset about it. Her face darkened as she realized it was the girl’s impression of her. Perhaps it was her own fault for not choosing her words more carefully, but the fact that it was taken in such a way made it clear what kind of person they thought she might be.
“Listen, Claes... I’m not sure what you have heard about Petra, and I really don’t care, but when you start thinking that she and I are the same way you show how ignorant you really are when it comes to such things.” 
The harsh words made Claes return Jamie’s glare, the insult of her intelligence having been a line suddenly crossed. Being straightforward was going to defuse the situation before it became too much to deal with.
“You deny that you and Michael are intimate?”
“Intimate? As in just being close?”
“As in sexual.”
Jamie turned red as her anger spiked inside and she had to draw from her deep reserves of patience to avoid punching the girl in her face. They could not understand what Petra and herself, and the other second-gens had to deal with on a daily basis regarding their handlers.
“We’re not like that. Last night was the closest we have ever been and it was nowhere near that level of intimacy. We watched movies until very early this morning, that’s it. And you can tell your busy-body friends that, too, in case they get the same idea as you.”
Jamie stood and picked up the bowl of fruit to take with her to her room.
“It’s not that I’m judging you, Jamie. I just think it might be wise to consider how your actions appear to others, especially the younger girls.” 
“I do as I please, Claes, and I take responsibility for those actions. That is the difference between being a girl and being a woman in this world. If the younger girls have questions, I won’t hold back any answers” She made her exit without a word further on the subject, leaving Claes to stare at her back.
“Why do you get so defensive if it’s nothing?”

The bowl was empty by the time Jamie made it back to her room. Her hands had occupied themselves by shoveling the fruit into her mouth as fast as she could swallow it and it was at times like this that she was thankful that being a cyborg negated the detriments of being a nervous eater.
Maria was in the room again, dressing from her morning workout with a few of the other girls. She glanced up at Jamie as she entered and noted the look on her face. It was a face she only made when someone had gone out of their way to upset her.
“Did you have some bad oatmeal for breakfast?”
“No,” Jamie said as she started pulling off her casual clothes to change into her khakis. “Bad conversation. Claes seems to think I’m playing fast and loose with Michael.”
“With Michael?” She bent down to tie her shoes. “As in lying to him?”
“As in biology.”
“Biology?” Her eyes lit up when the meaning hit her. She could understand why Jamie had become so unhappy with the comment. “Yes, I can see how that would make things a bit unsettling.”
Jamie pulled on a Remington t-shirt and tucked it into her pants, following it up with her tactical vest. 
“She accused me of not thinking about how my actions look to others.”
“Interesting, considering she gave no thought towards what kind of feelings you might have regarding such physical contact.” Maria finished dressing for her language class, straightening her blouse and smoothing out her skirt. “The fact that you can be as close as you are is certainly a sign of your own healing.”
“She couldn’t know what it’s like, so I really can’t blame her. If anyone ever touched me again, even Michael, I don’t think I would be able to live any longer. I cringe inside at the thought of it, and for her to say that I’m the type to flaunt it and give it away...”
Her friend wrapped her arms around her from behind and pulled tight, trying to be a comfort. “You’re not, and Michael knows what you have been through and what the boundaries are, so he’s not going to hurt you. Her words mean nothing.”
Jamie’s soft hand caressed the arms wrapped around her and the smile returned to her lips. She could not hope for better friends than the ones she had now.
“Thank you, Maria. I always know in my heart that you’ll understand me.”
“I can’t help it. I have to listen to you all night and day.” She released the older girl and picked up her backpack from beside her bed. “I’m going to class now, Jamie. I’ll see you this evening, so try not to get too angry about things.”
“I won’t. She just caught me off-guard. Have fun in class.”
The door closed, leaving Jamie alone again with her thoughts. She sat down on the bed and hugged herself to shield her heart from a cold chill that swept through her body. It was all she could do to hold in the tears she felt would burst forth. 
There was a confliction within her heart, one that seemed so incredibly impossible to resolve. She could feel love for Michael, the desire to be with him forever and to give her all to him. But a part of her said that she could never be one with him in the way that a woman should be. The damage to her mind from that night in Paris was not something that could be removed by drugs or prosthetics, and as much as she wanted to rise above and move past that pain, she could not see or feel any way that it was possible. When they had violated her, it had been an act that could never be forgotten, and would forever come between her and whomever she chose to love.
That thought was enough to release her bottled-up tears, and she cried for several long minutes as a mix of emotions surged through her. Sadness that she would constantly have to remember it, fear that she might be rejected because of it, and anger at having to continue to be a victim of it. The pain and fear of dying that night had long been recovered from, but this was something that she felt with absolute certainty would follow her until her dying breath.
There could be no amount of vengeance that would bring back what she had lost. Not her friends, not her body, nor her soul. It was a cold, sobering reality that she had been steadfastly ignoring, the same as Michael had been, but it was reality all the same.
The only legitimate reason to go on was to rid the world of a cancerous lump of flesh, one that caused painful death to many and spread its poisonous cells to as many as possible. In Amherst’s death, justice could be found for so many that have been, and even more that would be.
Her body had the strength to fight once again, and since fighting was going to be the means to justice, she pulled her rifle case from beneath the bed and started down the stairs. She had to meet up with the only person who understood, and together they would live to exact justice.

Michael sat on the sandbags that made up the firing line for the thousand yard range and watched Rico practice with her Dragunov, her shots being made at a rhythmic pace that was offset by the sound of the steel-tips hitting the target plate at six-hundred. Jean watched her accuracy through a large pair of binoculars and occasionally mentioned Rico’s variance from the center of the plate.
Jamie walked up just as Rico got to her feet to reload her magazines, and the young girl smiled broadly at Jamie.
“Hi, Jamie!”
“Hello, Rico. How’s the wind today?” She set her own case down and slipped the pack from her shoulder.
“Variable to the right. About five knots in the gusts, but averages around three.”
“Easy day today, I guess.”
Michael smiled at her; feeling warmed somewhat by Jamie’s kinship with the other girls. In a different time and place, the conversation would likely be very different in subject, but the same in enthusiasm and warmth.
“Hi.” Jamie stopped when her eyes met his- her heart beating a touch faster as she remembered the kiss last night. She brushed the hair from her eyes and silently cursed herself for not taking the time to primp a bit.
“Hi, Jamie. It’s an easy day today. You just need to sight in your new scope and prove that you can hit stuff with it.” He pulled a shoebox sized hard-case from his backpack and handed it to her, as if it were a Christmas or birthday gift. She gladly accepted and popped it open to get a look at her new toy. 
It was identical to her old one in every way, but somehow it seemed new and exciting. Maybe as a sniper the union between a sighted scope and the rifle was the defining point, so anything that broke that union was foreign in nature. It was something to think about later.
She had her rifle out in a few seconds and the scope fitted onto the rail. The bolt came out of the rifle and she settled it onto several sandbags before looking down the length of the barrel at a paper target mounted at one hundred meters. A few adjustments of the bags had the bore on target and she switched to sighting through the scope, pleased to see that her hawk-like vision had almost centered it.
“How long to sight it in?”
“A few groups, I think. It’s pretty spot on now.” 
She inserted the bolt again and loaded a magazine with her favorite load, inserting it into the rifle and working the action into battery. Jamie adjusted until she was comfortable and settled behind the glass to take aim at the incredibly easy shot she had before her. In calm, practiced moves she fired off a five-shot group, taking a second after each to ensure she was aimed in exactly the same spot. The hole in the paper was only slightly larger than the actual bullet diameter, meaning every shot had gone though the hole made by the first.
“Hmm...” The point of impact was a touch too low though, so she gave it a few clicks to adjust it out and loaded the fresh magazine that Michael handed her before taking aim at the six hundred meter target. The sights should be low at one hundred meters and be dead-on zeroed at six hundred. Everything else was compensation on her part.
Jamie counted the number of clicks she dialed in carefully, catching Jean and Rico watching her from the edge of her vision. Rico was good, there was no doubt about it, but Jamie was the best sniper in the agency and knew it. She would gladly help Rico along if she wanted the help.
“Got it?”
“Yeah... I should be right on, maybe a touch high.” She settled in again and took aim at the distant target while Michael took his place at the spotting scope.
“Three-shot group...”
Rifle roared and the bullet streaked downrange, ripping a hole in the target about two inches high and almost centered on the bulls-eye.
“Two inches high, a quarter left.”
“I allowed the wind to slack on that one, sorry.”
“I wasn’t complaining, Jamie.”
Rico stepped back onto the line and started shooting, the noise drowning out Michael and Jamie’s conversation from outsiders.
“Michael.” Her next shot went wide as she lost her concentration.
“Hm?”
“There’s something I need to talk about.” 
She fired her last round and removed the magazine to reload it. Michael looked at her from his place on the spotting scope and knew at a glance that it was something serious.
“You know you can always talk to me about anything, so what’s wrong?”
“Claes said something to me this morning and it brought up a question I’ve been avoiding.” Her hands started shaking as she thumbed the cartridge into the magazine and Michael knelt down beside her to hold them steady in a gesture of support. For some reason, his strength always made it easier to talk about things, and so she continued.
“She said that it looks like you and I are sexually involved, and that I should not be...making it so obvious.”
In another circumstance Michael might have laughed at the absurdity of it, but the hurt look in her eyes said that it was something that really bothered her.
“You told her that we weren’t like that?”
“Yes, but who knows whether she believes it. I don’t really care whether she does or not anyway, but it made me start to question things about myself, and us, and I don’t have the answers.”
“Like what?” He sat down beside her and leaned against the sandbags.
“Like whether I can actually do the things a normal woman can.”
It was something he had been told about, but did not really care to know the details of. By all real definitions, she was a woman, though the damage and injuries done to her made the more maternal aspects impossible.
“From what the lab-guys have said, you can do almost everything if you chose to.”
“It goes beyond the physical, though. I guess what has me upset is that the idea of that sort of contact makes me uncomfortable. In my mind, I want no one to touch me because the thought of it makes me remember.”
“I see...” Sometimes it was hard to keep in mind that she still had a form of PTSD, not unlike that woman in the base hospital.
“So... Even if I loved someone, and wanted to be with them in every way a woman can be, I still can’t do it because of this. So, as a man, could you love someone who could not share that with you? Or would you leave her?”
She was asking him such a serious question, one that spoke of her heart’s pains, yet there were no tears. She had already shed plenty of them over the question, and now she just wanted an answer. His answer would shape the woman next to him for the rest of her life, and it was this heavy burden that made him decide to answer as if it were not the two of them in question.
“Look over there, Jamie.” He nodded his head towards Jean and Rico, and waited for her to get a long look. “Believe it or not, there is love there. In spite of the rough treatment, the harsh words, and the seeming lack of empathy, Jean loves Rico like no one else. He’s piss-poor at showing it but it’s there, and she knows that he loves her.”
Jamie looked down, trying to get a handle on what he was saying.
“What that shows is that there are lots of types of love out there. If it really is a true love, be it as a lover or a friend or a mentor, it really doesn’t matter what the details are. You ask if not being able to fulfill the physical needs of a person will result in a loss of love, and I can say for certain that such an item won’t matter if the person really loves you. They’ll understand the pain and frustration you have and be supportive whether you choose to leave things that way or not.”
“But isn’t there something essential to a marriage in its consummation?” Her eyes darted away nervously, a sign that she had given some thought towards a future of some form. “Not that I’m expecting to have such a thing in my new life, but isn’t that part of it all?”
He smiled to cover his own discomfort with the topic. Somehow, whenever he got around to thinking of marriage, he became incredibly nervous. It had been the same uncomfortable feeling when he and Tanya had discussed it, and she had shared the feeling with him. He suspected that it came from providing a weakness for the enemy to exploit, something that seemed to come about regardless of events, but you don’t deliberately make it easier for them.
“Consummation is just a word to describe an act. In this day and age it is more common than not for couples to, er...savor each other before taking the vows. What’s important is the idea of unity of heart, and that is not dependant on creasing the sheets.”
She smiled softly at his discomfort and the resulting slang-promoted joke, feeling the sharp edge taken off of her worries. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
“Most of the time,” he said with a smile. “The rest of it is trying my best to avoid making things worse.”
Rico finished her drill and stepped off of the line again, giving Michael a cue to steer Jamie back in line.
“I picked up something the other day that I thought you might like.”
“Oh?” She stood with him and set her rifle down gently, forcing her worries to the back of her mind.
“I think you’ll like it.” 
He pulled a gun case from under the bench and settled it on top. The locks popped open and he opened the case to reveal an old bolt-action rifle with a scope. The wooden stock was worn a bit with dings and nicks, but the luster of the wood and finish captivated Jamie.
“A Mosin Nagant?”
“Yep. An authentic, sniper-rigged 91/30.  This little lady has more than fifty confirmed Nazi kills to its barrel, mostly officers if the guy selling it wasn’t lying.”
Jamie took the rifle in gentle hands and worked the action, amazed at how smooth it was for such a clunky- looking piece of craftsmanship. It weighed considerably more than her Remington, but it was a good heavy- a heavy that said you could carry it to Hell and back without so much as a doubt as to its reliability.
“Can I shoot it?”
The way her eyes lit up with excitement pushed the previous worries to the back of Michael’s mind. He pulled a wax-paper wrapped package from his pocket and slipped the twine off, pulling five cartridges from it.
“Do you really think I would deny you the chance to fire a gun?”
“Maybe...” Her smile broadened as she accepted the ammunition and thumbed them into the integral magazine. “You still haven’t let me shoot your Beo.”
“I told you, it’s my baby, just like the Remington is yours.”
Jamie settled onto the sandbags and took aim at a target downrange. “Yes, but I never denied you the right to fire it.”
“I’m the handler.”
“You’re a spoiled brat of a man!” The trigger was a little gritty as her finger pulled it through the motion, but the break was crisp and the shot fired, driving the steel butt-plate into her shoulder and sounding a sharp boom across the range. There was a hole in the target just below the bulls-eye, proving that the gun could certainly still shoot straight. “And teasing a woman with a gun, especially a sniper, is foolish.” 
He read the smile that curled on her lips as she worked the bolt for the next shot. She was happy behind the sights, happy standing beside him, and satisfied in her place. Her worries about her body and mind were settled for the time being and that set her free in a way. 
The next shot hit only inches away from the last, the error inherent to such an old gun and ammunition, and Jamie seemed to be fine with it. She had learned everything he had taught her well, knowing when to fight a problem and when to swing with it, experience a young woman such as herself would likely have learned in coming years. She was mature, strong, and brilliant- everything that a man would want in a woman, at least a man with common sense.
Rico and Jean had left after they packed their gear, and Michael was feeling like testing Jamie a bit more before heading into the field for what might be their last mission. In spite of the risks involved in their work, he never really let the possibility of death get to him in any significant way. He had set it aside as something that was possible, but could not be worried over- if it happened, it happened. He probably would not be alive long enough to worry about it anyway. 
But there was Jamie to worry about now. In spite of their promise to die together in the fighting, she was still determined to protect him before all else. The chance that he would die in front of her was pretty high with his action-oriented nature, and that was something he needed to consider in regards to her reaction.
“Say, Jamie...”
“Hm?” 
“Tell me about your father.”
She winced noticeably; spoiling her aim and making her back off of the trigger rather than miss the shot.
“Is this a test of my memory?” Her voice was hard and hinted at irritation at the painful topic.
“It’s a question from a friend. I’d like to know.”
“You know more about him than I do.”
Michael watched her unload the rifle and set it aside to cool before sitting again to deal with the conversation.
“I don’t believe that. I think you remember enough.”
“And you want to know what I remember? Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
Jamie’s eyes flashed with suspicion. “This is a sudden change in your routine, you know. I can’t help but wonder why.”
“I just want to know. I know it was tough when you lost your parents, but I’m curious to know what kind of relationship you had with him and what kind of man he was.”
It wasn’t enough.  His reason was lacking a purpose that would fall in line with what she knew of his methods. It was something he had taught her to identify in others, the better to identify them as a threat or suspect, and she knew that there was another reason for asking but could not tell what it was. Maybe to draw out her emotions a little longer? But if that was the case, he was drawing the wrong ones out.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t tell you that. Some things belong to me and me alone.” She turned her back to him in order to pack up her rifle and gear, working slowly to give her time to feel out his response. If he were probing her with some selfish intent, he would push the matter a bit more.
“I see...” Michael began cleaning the Mosin to prevent the old ammunition’s residue from rusting the bore. The Ammoniated solvent burned the nose and made him cringe, but it was a good cleaner. “I won’t ask again.”
Jamie hesitated as she started to step towards the car, unsure as to where he was heading with the inquiry now that he had proven her suspicion wrong. A few possibilities worked in her head but they only left her curious as to what other reason he would have.
“You’re not going to order me to tell you?”
He shook his head and slipped the cleaning rod into the gun with a clean patch. “You know I wouldn’t do that over something like this. I hated it the first time.”
“Yes.”
Her back was still towards him but he could almost read her face through her hair. The lack of movement could only mean that she was thinking with her heart, something he wished he could claim to have taught her, but could only say that he reminded her how to do.
“You’re a lot like him, you know.” She had turned to watch him from the edge of her right eye and he could see the soft, nostalgic smile on the corner of her mouth. “I can’t see his face in my mind, but I remember feeling safe and uplifted when I was around him. He always knew what to say, too, and it was always with a humility that belied his real ability. He never allowed me to see him raise a hand in anger or frustration, but I knew that he could take care of himself when the moment came. And whenever I felt limited by my own ability, he would prop me up with encouragement to learn things for myself.”
A single teardrop glistened on her cheek as it ran down to drip from her chin, reflecting the noonday sun. 
“I made it my purpose to be strong like him, and to help others learn to get to their own two feet. Such a mentor is rare in this day and age- I knew that even then- and that’s why I can never give up on anything, and why I feel so close to you. You are the same type of man.”
Michael pulled the patch from the gun, and set the rod down to lean against the bench. Her words were the clearest explanation of how her mind worked that he had heard yet. It explained everything about why they could read one-another so well, and why she refused to let go of her life.
“A man such as that... I could never have hoped to be placed on the same level as someone like that, but the fact that you have means that I’m not a complete screw up, I guess.”
Jamie turned and smiled at him while wiping her tears away. 
“I couldn’t have dreamed of anyone more suited.”
As she walked away, Michael took stock of where they stood. She was almost there- the place he was pushing her towards- and there was only a couple of other things she needed to achieve before he could be satisfied. 
She would not fail him anymore... that was something he could count on. He only had to live up to that standard for her as well.

The Jaguar hardly turned an eye as it pulled into the covered entrance of the spa Michael had chosen. The valet and the several onlookers probably thought it belonged to the garbage man, Michael thought, and it certainly did not fit in with the posh crowd that he looked over from behind the tinted glass.
“Nice place...”
“Yeah,” he replied as he glanced at Jamie, who seemed interested but not necessarily amused. “It’s pretty ritzy. It makes me wonder how Smith can afford such a place on a CIA paycheck.”
“Maybe he’s like you and has a bunch of Benjamin’s stashed away.” She pulled her suit jacked on and buttoned it up, working hard to look like a million bucks.
“Ill-gotten gains, Jamie. Then again, stealing from criminals isn’t necessarily a sin. At least I don’t think it is. My mistake was in stashing it in a way that prevented me from getting to it easily. That’s been fixed, rest assured.”
Michael climbed out as the valet opened his door, flicked a comb through his hair, and tipped the man big as he leaned in the window to speak.
“Give me a spot with a quick exit, okay? I might have to leave in a hurry on business.”
The man eyed the tip suspiciously as he thought about it for a moment, and then nodded as Jamie pulled herself erect in front of the other valet that had opened her door, her professional appearance and height advantage sending a noticeable chill through him.
“We’ll get our bags, thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” 
He practically bowed several times before moving off to the side, and Michael could almost see the frustration in his face over the lost tip. Jamie pulled their bags from the trunk and handed Michael his smallest one, her mind already setting up the appearance of a jet-setter businessman with a woman assistant. Michael shouldered the bag and smiled at her as she struggled to get her grip on her cases, the clothing bags, and her briefcase.
She followed him as he led the way inside with hardly a look back, looking as if he did not care but feeling terrible inside for making her the object of attention as she fumbled a bit with the bags. It didn’t get any better when the man at the desk looked right through her without concern for her plight.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?”
Michael pictured himself as Pierce Brosnan and emulated the style as he pulled off his sunglasses to look at the man. 
“I have a reservation for the weekend. The name’s Conti... Michael Conti.”
He sensed Jamie suppressing laughter behind her poker-faced smile, a smile the desk clerk missed entirely as he scrolled through the book that they still used for style purposes.
“Ah, yes, Signor Conti. There is a problem, however, as some emergency repair work has made the room we set aside unsuitable due to the noise. The only other rooms available at the moment are a single bed.”
The man glanced at Jamie finally and sized her up for any signs that she might actually be a mistress for the important man. She could read his eyes from behind her sunglasses and found him detestable.
“Sir? The single bed is not a concern, as I can sleep on the couch or in a chair just as well. Perhaps they might be willing to switch us to another room should one come available tonight.”
Michael nodded after a brief pause of feigned consideration. “That would be acceptable.” 
“Very good, sir.” The clerk filled out the line in the book and set it on the counter for Michael to sign as the clerk keyed everything into a computer that was tucked aside. 
Michael handed it back after scrawling his “name” with his left hand, a technique he perfected in the hopes of throwing off pursuers who might look for his signature.
“Fernando will show you to your room, sir.”
A bellhop appeared on command and took Michael’s bag, leading the way to the elevator and holding the door as he and Michael waited for Jamie to pick up the other bags and follow. Michael could imagine the thoughts running through her head regarding the service in this place and about what she might have done to deserve being treated as such a functionary.
The doors opened on a floor and the young man led the way eagerly for Michael, once again ignoring the struggling Jamie. The doors closed on her arms as she exited and she stumbled into the hallway, dropping the suitcases as she caught her balance. It was as if the entire universe was conspiring to make her look like the world’s biggest fool.
She leaned against the wall for a moment as she focused her thoughts towards remaining calm and poised, though it hardly seemed to make a bit of difference so far that day. The entire place seemed like it existed in a sexist cloud of bad luck, all aimed at her personally.
“Excuse me, Miss. Might I be of some assistance?”
Jamie looked at the young man that had walked up beside her and her heart skipped a beat. He was handsome, wearing a Brioni blazer with dark blue pants, and short, styled hair, and looked to be only twenty or so. His hand was outstretched in an offer to help her up from the crouched-down position she had slumped to while thinking about her plight. It was all Jamie could do to keep from sounding like an idiot as her mouth worked faster than her brain.
“Err- Um, what?”
He laughed softly at her discomfort, but it really did not offend her at the moment.
“Can I help you with those bags, Miss?”
His hand was still in front of her and the smile on his face calmed her to a point where she could take it with shaky hand and be pulled up. He had considerable strength in his hands, a feeling that intimidated the woman inside her a little.
“I- I’m sorry. I guess I was trying to carry too much at one time.” Damn it! Why was she feeling so flustered?
“I can see that. What concerns me is that the staff here failed to provide you with adequate help. Perhaps it’s for the best that my father just bought the place...”
Jamie could almost find that idea laughable except for the serious look in his eyes.
“Your family owns this resort?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” He gave a pained expression as they looked down the hall at the distant Michael and bellhop, just arriving at a door. “The previous owners made a wreck of the place through poor management and I told my father as much, but he met my mother here long ago and it means a lot to him to see it restored to its former glory.”
“That’s a noble enough cause. I hope it’s a gift she appreciates.”
“I think she would. Unfortunately, she died when I was very young.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She looked away uncomfortably, unsure as to how she could manage to screw anything else up.
The man just smiled broader, his hands still holding hers. “It’s okay, there’s no reason to apologize. In fact, I should be apologizing for the terrible level of courtesy shown by the people here. We’re still working to weed out the problem cases, so please accept my apologies and accept my efforts to right the situation.”
“Of course!” 
She realized that her thumb was gently rubbing his hand of its own accord, so she pulled away and began to pick up the things she had dropped. The man picked up two of her bags and was just pulling on the handle of her guitar case when her eyes fell on it, and her programmed response to strike in order to protect it was barely reigned in, resulting in a lunge and harsh snatching of it from his grip.
The man was stunned at her speed and the ferocity of the act, stepping back slightly as she turned away in a sudden bout of shame that flushed through her.
“I’m sorry! This- this case is important to me, so I automatically protect it with everything in me. It’s not personal.”
“Don’t apologize, Miss. I understand completely.” He picked up the other things and let her keep the case for herself, then led the way down the hall to the room. The bellhop was still there, as was the man the woman was with, and the young man set the bags down gently just inside the door. He motioned Jamie in with a flourished gesture, bowing gently as she passed.
“Thank you.” Michael handed the bellhop a tip but it was snatched away by the other young man, surprising Michael with the ferocity of the look that was thrown at the bellhop.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Fernando has not earned your money or respect.” He handed the money back to Michael and then turned on the bellhop with genuine anger. “How dare you let a guest struggle with their luggage? You never gave this woman a second glance after you left the elevator, and certainly did not help her when she fell.”
The bellhop began to open his mouth to respond but his accuser did not give him a chance, instead grabbing the boy’s ear and dragging him to face Jamie, who was standing by with an unsure look at what she was seeing.
“Apologize for your lack of courtesy!”
The tone of voice made it clear that bad things were going to happen if he did not do as he was told, so the young man bowed deeply and apologized sincerely in five languages. He was then shoved roughly out the door. The young man turned to Michael and bowed. 
“I’m terribly sorry for the inconveniences, sir. I’ll see what I can do about getting you a better room for all of the troubles.”
Michael had been impressed, even entertained, by the scene that had unfolded in front of him. He had watched the man’s interaction with Jamie as long as he could, and the way he had taken charge of the situation, in spite of appearing to be a very rich individual, had impressed the hell out of him.
“Thank you, I would appreciate that greatly. I had heard of the problems surrounding this resort, and I’m glad that the new owners are finding people like your self to take things back under control. I’ll be sure to mention the change to the fellows back at the club.”
“I would appreciate that, thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to speak to someone about hiring new people. If there is anything else you find lacking during your stay, please feel free to ask for me.”
He moved to exit but Jamie stopped him with an arm across the doorway.
“Wait!” 
Michael could see something different in her eyes as she finally removed her sunglasses, the brilliant blues sparkling like the bluest waters.
“How are we supposed to call you if we don’t even know your name?”
He laughed from embarrassment, rubbing his head and showing the first trace of losing his cool demeanor.
“My name is Nicholas Ferrari, the son of Nicolo Ferrari, the new owner of this establishment.”
“Ferrari?”
“Before you ask- no, I’m not related to the automobile makers. I’m just another Ferrari.” His smile made it clear that he was used to the question and meant no harm with the response.
“Well, Signor Ferrari, I appreciate the professional attitude you have exhibited today. I’m sure your father will be proud of you.”
“I hope so. Until we meet again, Signor, Signorina...”
Another courteous bow and he breezed past Jamie, who rested against the wall in a daze after he left. Michael watched her with some concern, worried about the way he had been treating her in keeping up the image.
“I’m sorry. I should have helped with the bags.”
His words snapped her from the daze and she stepped to the bed to open up a case.
“It’s not a problem, Michael. I know you have an image to keep up. Besides,” she smiled, “something good might just come from my suffering.”
It only took a moment for Michael to realize to what she was referring. “Ah, Signor Ferrari...”
“Yes.”
Michael pulled a small box from his bag and flipped a switch, then started wandering the room to look for hidden microphones.
“He seems like a nice young man, Jeanette.” The use of her alias had the desired result- that of reminding her that they needed to secure their position before relaxing at all. She nodded and started looking as well, carefully moving around and checking the obvious places like the drapery cords and lampshades and their fixtures.
“I guess so. You know I’ve never been good with the boys.” She was trying to pass off the conversation before it became too uncomfortable for her. Somehow it seemed a bit strange to talk about a guy with Michael, but maybe it was because she actually thought Nicholas was attractive. Certainly she had felt a change in her heart-rate upon seeing him, not so different from the excitement that she had to continuously stave off while waiting for her targets. It seemed strange now that she thought about it, but she had never really thought of any man to be attractive.
 The exception was Michael, or at least he had been the only exception until now.
“Well, you haven’t exactly had a lot of time with them lately.”
Michael motioned her over to the couch and then pointed to the lower corner near the leg. A glance at the meter in his hands told Jamie that it was picking up a wireless transmission, just as he had suspected there would be. She slipped to the floor and shined her light around the bottom, finally finding the bug taped securely to the top of the leg where it was nearly invisible.
Michael motioned her back up from the floor and pointed towards the bathroom, making a gesture with his hands that indicated washing or bathing. She nodded and thought about what to say for the audience.
“I think I’m going to shower real quick before going down to get a massage.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure you’re back in time to get ready for dinner.” Michael flipped to a news station on the television and then followed Jamie into the bathroom. She made a show of humming softly and rustling her clothes appropriately, then turned on the shower to cover their voices as they whispered to each other.
“What do you want to do?”
“We’ll have to scan the rest of the room, but it’s almost pointless. We know that someone is listening in, probably Smith, and we can’t remove the microphone.” A thought struck Michael as he spoke, and the questioning look on his face made Jamie wonder what he had thought of. “Or maybe...”
He made a quick scan of the bathroom and found another microphone behind the mirror, which he pulled out and unscrewed to remove the battery.
“Go ahead and get a shower... Then go enjoy yourself until dinner. I have a few things to discuss with Mister Smith regarding his surveillance of a skilled CIA operative. I don’t have to put up with microphones because he should know I could find them. I think I’ll be insulted rather than careful this time.”
Jamie smiled as he made his decision, knowing that his confidence was born of his control of the situation. He could afford to play around with Smith for a day or so, so she chose to let him have some fun.
“Okay. Be careful, Michael.”
“Formal dress for dinner, Jamie. I’ll get us a table for seven o-clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
Jamie pulled her suit off and stared at herself in the mirror, wondering if she should do her hair differently this evening. Her instincts told her that dinner would be a good time as any to give Michael the gift she had been saving since that interrupted dinner in Rome. 
There would be a calm before the storm that would be rolling in the next night with the elimination of Randall Smith. Smith was the careful sort- you didn’t get to be a station chief by being careless- and there was no doubt in Jamie’s head that he had something planned as a back up in case Michael got out of hand. Michael would know this and plan accordingly, but it all came down to who had one-upped the other beyond their expectations.
The only job Jamie had was in making sure Michael came out on top.

Chapter 38

The steam of the sauna was scorching and felt to Jamie like she was inhaling coals. She had never been in one before, even in her previous life, but the touted mysterious healing powers of them made her curious enough to try one now. 
That and the solitude. 
The spa was busy in the pre-dinner hours and she had found it unnerving to be among so many people without Michael beside her, but she had spent her time in the pool (which was actually enjoyable), and in the mud bath (odd sensation that it was), and had showered off to try this last item of the evening. 
She adjusted the large towel around her and settled onto a bench as her lungs started to adjust to the humid, thick air. Sweat had already started to form on her skin, something she took a moment to watch in curiosity. She had always been too active to notice but now she was able to wonder how her builders had managed to emulate almost everything a normal body could do. 
Her finger swiped across the top of her arm, flinging the sweat away and making room for more to come forth from the depths. She focused on a single spot on her arm and stared intently, her finely tuned senses feeling the gentle release of the gland and the salty liquid’s percolation to the surface to form a droplet.
“Weird...”
The door opened and Jamie felt a rush of hot air being sucked towards the cooler environs, only to stop when another woman entered and settled at the furthest end of the bench, all but hidden in the cloud and dim lighting. She removed her towel and settled back against the wall with practiced ease, her body exposed for the eyes of anyone who bothered to care.
It was a mixed sauna, Jamie knew, so she was not sure whether the woman did not know about the possibility of a male entering or did not care, but the woman’s boldness was surprising and Jamie blushed as she caught herself staring at the body in her efforts to evaluate the woman’s character. 
There was no indication that the woman noticed Jamie, and she really could not say for certain whether the woman had noticed her existence at all. Jamie’s watch beeped its five-minute timer and she had to leave the room, so she stood up and then swayed drunkenly as her head spun a little. The woman looked up at Jamie in concern but remained hidden in the mist as the girl steadied herself and proceeded out into the hallway, a reaction that left Jamie with a questioning look on her face. She felt as if she had seen the woman before, but she really could not be sure since she hadn’t caught a look at the woman’s face.
Maybe she was just getting spooked from being away from Michael for so long outside of the agency...
“Miss Conti?”
She came out of her distracted daze automatically at the sound of a male voice, her eyes quickly scanning around her and realizing that she had entered the men’s locker room, if the several men in various stages of undress were any real clue. Her embarrassment was only compounded by the fact that Nicholas Ferrari was standing in front of her with only the shirt in his hands providing cover. 
“I- Err...”
“Are you okay?”
“I seem to have chosen the wrong door. I’m sorry. Maybe I was in the sauna too long.” Her eyes darted to the door in the hopes of finding an exit but his hand caught hers and stopped her from leaving. Her mind went into a defensive mode as the fact that she was in the men’s room with only a towel on blitzed through her head. “Please, let go.”
“Hey, I was just... I know it’s not exactly the proper setting, but I was wondering if you would join me for dinner tonight.” He released her but she did not continue her escape, instead trying desperately to focus past her discomfort, confusion, and embarrassment to understand what he was asking.
“You mean dinner together?”
“Yes.”
Another glance around the room turned the tables in her mind and she had to get out of there, if only to avoid the stares of the other men in the room as they enjoyed the conversation.
“I-uh, I have to go!”
“Wait, I-“
She pushed the door closed behind her and rushed to the next one, the right one, ducking quickly inside just as Nicholas popped out of the men’s room with a towel wrapped around his waist. The women inside were staring at her as well, wondering why a young woman in a towel was leaning against the wall, holding a hand to her chest and gasping for air.
“Miss Conti!”
The voice from the other side of the door was not going to go away easily, that much she knew for certain. Then again, did she really want him to go away?
“Yes?”
“You did not answer me.”
“About what?”
“Will you join me for dinner?”
“Yes, now just go away!” Jamie looked around at the women, a few of whom were smiling as they turned back to what they were doing. “You’re embarrassing me!”
“I’m sorry. I have a table on the west side of the dining hall. I’ll be waiting for you there.”
“Okay.”
She sighed in relief at the end of an uncomfortable moment, but a new worry hit her in the form of her having to meet Michael for dinner at the same time. She had forgotten him entirely, something she had never imagined she could do. There was less than a half-hour before she was supposed to meet him, and she had left her cell phone in the room, so calling him was out of the question. 
She had to make a choice between what she wanted to do for herself and what she was supposed to do for her handler.
“What am I going to do?”

The classical music and rich atmosphere of the dining hall certainly showed what the rich life was about, Michael thought. Crystal glassware trimmed in silver or gold, extremely old bottles of wine, and plates you could see more empty space on than food- these were all things that Michael had learned to expect, and to dislike, from the bourgeois class.
Smith was supposed to be meeting him, at least that was the agreement they had made when Michael had broken into Smith’s room and tossed at him the half-dozen bugs the man had planted in Michael’s room. He was getting a new room, courtesy of Nicholas Ferrari, and things were supposed to settle down into a wait-and-see situation until the ‘escape’ on Sunday night.
But both Smith and Jamie were late.
“Damn... Where is that kid?”
He caught a glimpse of her among the crowd of people by the entrance, looking beautiful in her black Paris dress, her eyes looking past the crowd towards the tables, trying to find him. She stopped a waiter and asked for directions, and the busy man was evidently charmed enough to lead her in the direction from which he had just come. The direction was away from Michael’s table and he became concerned as to where she was going, at least until the crowd parted enough for him to see that Nicholas Ferrari was seating her at his table in the gentlemanly way. 
Jamie was smiling, perhaps even enjoying herself, in spite of the nervousness that Michel could read in her motions. While it concerned him, he was in no position to interfere at that point, so he let it slide from his mind as he sat down and waved a waiter over for another drink.
The vodka martini was settling in when a mix of Chanel No. Nine and Creed Royal Water hit him on the breeze from a nearby dress ruffling. He looked up to find one of the last people he could expect to see standing before him.
“Hello, Michael...” 
Emily Lanstrom smiled with her glossed lips and extremely accurate French accent, and behind the smile Michael thought he could see her focusing on a deception beyond the one meant for outsiders. The likely reason was beside her in the form of Randall Smith, a man who offered his hand in greeting but likely held a knife or gun with the other.
“Emily? I didn’t expect you to be here,” Michael spoke truthfully.
“There are times, as you know, where it’s helpful to have reliable people to back you.” Smith spoke with an Italian accent, making Michael glad that he had done the same when he had chosen to respond to Emmy in English.
“Indeed. Please?” He motioned them to be seated and a waiter appeared as if by magic, then scuttled off to get more drinks.
Emily looked around for tails and watchers, looking casual as ever and reminding Michael that her field-craft was very good. Her foot tapped his ankle twice to indicate they were being watched or otherwise monitored and to continue looking natural, a traditional signal in their circle- a circle that Smith was not a part of. Michael could only assume that her presence there was not an accident, and that Smith was the one they needed to worry about.
“So, how long has it been, Emmy? Four years?”
“No, almost three. Not since before Calais.” She sipped her drink and remained in character, looking as calm and deadly cool as Tanya always had. Michael made a face as if he were thinking about it.
“So it is. The past couple of years have been a long blur for me. It hasn’t been easy.” That much was truth enough.
“I know.”
“These pleasantries are amusing,” Smith butted in, “but hardly helpful to the situation. I am here and prepared to fulfill my part of the bargain, Mister ‘Conti’, but I need to know that you are willing to fulfill yours.”
Michael eyes had watched him in periphery as Emily had spoken of how long their separation had been, and had caught a twinge of amusement on the lips, amusement that was obviously not related to the current situation. Smith likely knew of Michael’s moves in Paris recently, and that Emmy had helped him.
“I’m here to finish this deal. I’m sick of the way the agency has been dealing with things lately, and their lack of help in dealing with the people I’ve been after is not exactly heart-warming. And then there’s Jamie...” 
He put on a somewhat concerned face for effect.
“They’re a step away from taking her back in for another brainwashing, and I can’t allow that. She’s come too far and is too important to me.”
“I understand.”
Smith said it with a straight face and Michael nearly let some surprise show in his own. The man didn’t care at all, let alone understand the emotionalism that Michael was attempting to portray. He was simply analyzing Michael through a lens of skepticism, like they had all been trained to do with informants.
“Don’t act like you care, Smith. I know the game- I’ve played it as long as you have- and I know you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anything but the information. I, of course, only care about the payment for that information.”
Michael pulled a USB memory stick from his pocket and tapped it on the table a few times, showing that the bargaining was being opened.
“Here’s a sample. It’s only a few files- I have the others stashed away for when we make the final trade-off. From these you can certainly tell that the information I have is worth the price.”
“And the price?” Smith lit a cigarette.
“First: extraction from here with Jamie, to Warsaw. There I will hand over the complete information, and it’s decoding key, upon the payment of twenty million dollars in untraceable cash. Then she and I walk away and I never see another CIA agent.”
Smith took a long drag and stared into Michael’s eyes to gauge his sincerity. Michael knew it was coming and was ready with a practiced look.
“Only twenty million?”
“I’m not greedy, I just want to be left alone. A house somewhere out of the way sounds good now after a life in the dark alleys of Europe.”
“I see...” He nodded and motioned for the data with his fingers. “I’ll have a look and get back to you tomorrow. If it’s what you say it is, then I’m sure the director will see that you get what you want. Which room are you going to be staying in?” Michael had made no effort to hide the fact that his room was being changed, only where it was being changed to.
Michael glared his response. “You don’t need to know. I’ll meet you here for lunch tomorrow at one.”
“Very well.” Smith snuffed his cigarette out and stood, tossing off the last of his drink. “Coming, Miss Lanstrom?”
“Not yet. I haven’t talked with Michael in some time, so I thought we might reminisce a little before he disappears underground again.”
“Suit yourself.” The man shrugged and left, narrowly avoiding a waiter who was bringing dinner to the table. Their plates were set and their glasses topped off with a fine wine, and Emily finally spoke after the waiter left.
“When was the last time you and I sat down to a nice dinner together, Michael?”
“Three months after we transferred to Paris. I remember it vividly- every detail. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue...”
Emmy smiled and sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving him. “You’re still quoting Casablanca, Michael? I thought you had given up using clichéd lines to lure women in.”
“Not so much lure in as to evoke emotions.”
“That you do very well, even without the classics.” She held her glass in salute before taking another sip.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the taste of an expensive meal, something that neither of them had the chance to partake of very often on their pay-grades.
“How is Katherine?”
“Mm...” He had caught her in mid bite. “She’s well. In fact she’s better than well, she’s actually started looking at men again. I think your therapy session with her turned the corner, and now she can move on.”
“That’s good to hear. At least I’m doing something decent to make up for my failings.”
“Mm... This food is really good!” 
Michael watched her eat happily for a while before asking her the pressing questions.
“Emmy?”
“Hm?”
“Why are you here?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly and shifted to the doorway, watching for a sign that Smith might still be around.
“Smith called me last week and said I was being ordered to work with him in regards to you. The orders had come down from Rathbone, the new DDO, so it’s not like I had a choice. He started off by asking for everything I knew about you- how you operate, what kind of technical knowledge, what I think your largest blind spot is...”
“I get the idea.” It was not as if it was anything different than what he himself would do in a similar position.
“Right now, I’m along as insurance. If you and Jamie fail to come through, he has orders to kill you. No shit, right from Rathbone himself.”
“And you?”
“He thinks I’m on his side. I’ve been playing along and if the worst comes, I’ll side with you.”
“I can’t have you do that. It’ll make you as much of a target as myself. Your career will be over and you’ll never be able to go home.”
“I’m willing to accept that, Michael.” Her eyes were serious, he could see, and there was something else in them, something he was not sure how to describe. He could tell that she was hiding something but she had become very adept at masking it. “There are worse things in life to fight for than friends... Like stabbing them in the back for your career.”
His instincts were warning him about her, something he had never felt when they had been working together before, or even the recent trip to Paris. Even still, she was someone he had to trust in because he knew her well enough to be sure that her motives were pure. She was a straight shooter when it came to conscience and that meant she had to do what she felt was right.
“You know I can’t ask you in good conscience to do anything to help me.”
Emmy sighed and smiled, tugging at her earring unconsciously as she rested her chin on her hand, her eyes never leaving his.
“I know. So I’ll do what I feel is best if and when a time comes.”
Michael tipped his glass in salute. “That’s all I ask of anyone.”

“This food is delicious.” 
Jamie caught the eyes of her host as she took another bite, focusing on him as she mentally forced herself to eat carefully to avoid looking like a slob. Nicholas for his part, continued staring into her eyes as well, breaking only to pick up his wine glass.
“Our chef hails from the Les Trois Marches in Versailles. We were fortunate that he was quite experienced in Italian cuisine as well as French.”
“I’ve never had anything as wonderful, even in Paris.”
Ferrari could tell that she was enjoying herself, but her lack of attention to the wine was something he found curious. “Is the wine not to your liking? It’s a ’77, among the finest in our cellar.”
“Please, forgive my seeming lack of enthusiasm for it, but I’m afraid that I’m not much of a wine person. Alcohol is something I drink with extreme reluctance as it tends to bring out a less appropriate side of myself.” She drifted into thought about the several times that her darker self had escaped due to her lack of control. Certainly she could not afford such a slip now, undercover and enjoying herself with the young man.
“I see... It’s a shame, but I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
He flagged down a waiter and requested a sparkling grape juice for her, then returned to the conversation with a curious look on his face, one she could not let go.
“What is it?”
“I was just realizing that I have been having such an interesting time with you that I never asked what your first name was.”
“You’re only now realizing it?” Jamie smiled, enjoying his embarrassment a bit. “My name is Jeanette. Jeanette Conti.”
“Was one of your parents Belgian, by any chance?”
“No. My great-grandmother was, however, and I am named after her.” 
“Ah...” 
Jamie thought about what she had said just now, thinking about the lie from behind her collected and casual face. It seemed so natural, the lie, as if nothing else could possibly be the truth. Michael had never told her anything but to assume the name ‘Jeanette Conti’, her alias for the mission if anyone were to ask. She was his sister- a low-level secretary-type figure in the family business, and her job was to assist him.
So the lie was of her own making. Worse than that it was something she felt comfortable in, the same as the lie she had told the pastry shop owner in Venice. Both had rolled right off of her tongue without thought, as if they were programmed into her head.
Her eyes returned to Nicholas Ferrari and she felt her face remain the way it had been- enjoying herself with food and conversation, blinding the man in front of her from the true thoughts within. A chill ran through her as she realized that she was still being controlled, even in this situation. Her eyes quickly searched the tables in an effort to find Michael. He would know what was happening.
“Jeanette?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? You suddenly became quiet.”
She feigned a smile for him, but it felt nowhere near as natural as the previous one. Jamie felt scared inside, worried that her belief in her freedom was in reality a carefully controlled program from the agency.
“I’m fine. Perhaps I’m just tired from the traveling and my recent workload.” She relaxed her mind this time and let her mouth fly, seeing just how far the lies would go on their own. “My brother keeps me very busy.”
“It’s a shame. Most people our age would be living life to its fullest, but we are trapped into our family businesses, seemingly forever doomed to be carrying the weight.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. I was hoping this trip would allow me to shrug off that weight for a little while.”
“Hmm.”
A silence settled in and Jamie could tell the man was deep in thought. His eyes finally lit up and he stood, taking her hand. “Lets go someplace.”
“Go? Where?”
“I know of a perfect place.”
Jamie wanted to ask what it was a perfect place for, but she caught herself and decided to let things fly out of her control for a while. The thoughts about how the agency controlled her made her desperate for anything beyond their control, and this certainly seemed like one. 
Nicholas led her up several flights of stair to a balcony that overlooked the valley, which was just settling into darkness as the sun dipped below the western hills. Jamie stepped to the balcony and shivered in the cold breeze that whipped past her, but remained captivated by the view.
“This is one of my first memories- the view from this balcony with my mother. I was only four or five at the time...”
Jamie watched as Nicholas took on a nostalgic aura, gazing out at the land as he sought the memories of his mother’s presence. Jamie could understand, even if it was difficult to remember her own parents’ faces and presence.
“My mother... She died when I was nine. My father was so busy with work at that time- taking over a few businesses at a time to grow the company, eliminate the competition, and make a name for himself in the social circles.”
Jamie could hear a slight rasp in his voice as he struggled to keep his emotions under control, if only out of habit.
“Mother was sick. Father was out of town again and I was the only one there to take care of her. She played it off as nothing, and being so young meant that I could not understand the signs of something more serious than the flu. My father finally returned from his trip and took her to the hospital, but it was too late. The illness took over her body and there wasn’t anything the doctors could do to reverse it.”
He was blaming himself. He had held it in for a long time, and for some reason she could not understand, Nicholas was able to let it out to Jamie. She moved closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
“If you’re blaming yourself, don’t.” She decided to break cover just a little in order to help the man next to her. “There is nothing you could have done. No child could go against their mother’s wishes in that situation.”
“I know that, but I can’t figure out why she would not save herself.”
There it was in a nutshell.
“I don’t know the answer to that, Nicholas. Maybe she was worried more about how you would react to her being in the hospital. Maybe she really didn’t know it was so bad. Whatever it was, it was a mistake. I’m sure she would not have wished anything so painful on you.”
He nodded and turned to her with a weak smile. “You’re the only person who has ever really understood.”
“It’s because I’ve been there. My parents were killed in a car accident only a few years ago. I’ve kind of been on my own ever since.”
“You have your brother.”
Jamie managed to conceal her frustration over having forgot that part of her cover. Her mind instantly came up with a plausible lie to save her.
“My brother...” She smiled with an air of regret and brushed the hair from her eye. “My brother was never around. He was too busy to take care of me. After the funeral, he left me with some money and went off to conduct his business. It wasn’t until I started to make my own way that he took me into the business.” 
“He sounds cold.”
“Michael is a loner, but since we’ve been together he’s opened up a bit more. Maybe he’s finally realized how important we are to each other.”
A silence fell between them and Jamie did not know what to expect next. Her heart yearned to reach out and kiss him, but her more disciplined side told her to stick to mission. Even if she was currently on her own time, getting to close to this man could possibly hurt things later. 
Things like her heart.
The wind gusted as the last rays of pink over the hills faded to violet, making her shiver and rub her bare arms for warmth. The dress, while perfect for dinner, was certainly not warm enough for being outside during spring. Nicholas noticed and shrugged off his jacket, slipping it onto her shoulders and received a grateful smile in return. 
“It’s cold out here. I’m sorry for making you put up with my foolish whims.”
“It’s not foolish. Thank you for sharing it with me.” Her words made it clear that she understood him. 
“We should go back inside before you catch cold.”
“Hmm, okay.”
The warmth of the interior felt good and the couple walked around the building for an hour, talking about whatever came to their minds. Jamie could not help but wonder why she felt so different than usual, as if her entire body was buzzing softly with untapped energy. It was distracting in a way, but it also made her heart feel alive, something she was beginning to enjoy.
Nicholas stopped in front of the door to a suite, pulled out a key card, and opened the door for her.
“This is yours and your brother’s new room. I hope you find it comfortable.”
Jamie could see their bags beside the couch and knew that Michael had already been there.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this for us.”
He smiled. “It’s the least I can do for the trouble my staff caused you. Well, I guess I had better be going. No doubt my work has piled up while I’ve been out enjoying myself.”
Jamie’s heart got the better of her, screaming that she had best move now while she had a chance. She wrapped her arm around his neck and leaned close, pausing to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry for my selfishness...” 
He looked stunned at first, probably from her boldness, but as her lips met his he pulled tight to her, not wanting to ever let go. It was a long time before she let go, pulling away with her soft smile.
“Thank you. This evening was the best I’ve ever had.”
“You’re welcome. I can’t say that I’ve ever met a woman like you, and it’s been my pleasure to be with you tonight.” He was smiling, even as he was stepping back from her. “Well, I have to go now.”
“Good night, Nicholas. Be well.”
She watched him as he walked away and turned the corner to the stairs, listening carefully for his footsteps to fade. When she could no longer hear him, the smile faded from her face and she turned to face the other direction in the hallway, eyeing the adjoining hallway.
“How long have you been there?”
Michael slipped around the corner and leaned against it, analyzing her as usual.
“ ‘Thank you, you didn’t have to do this for us.’ I decided it best to hang back rather than ruin the moment.”
“Thank you.” Jamie entered the room and Michael followed, closing the door and pulling his shoulder rig off. He watched her fumble for a moment with her zipper before he stepped closer and unzipped it for her. He was surprised when she jerked away slightly, obviously shying away from him in a search for privacy.
“Sorry. I was just trying to help.”
“I know. I’m just...”
He could see it in her face. 
“You’re in love with him.”
Her face saddened as she thought about it, then turned to him questioningly. “I’m not sure.”
“I see...” He moved to the bedroom and started pulling off his tuxedo, pausing to take a gentle whiff of the Chanel No. 9 that Emily had been wearing and had transferred to his jacket.
Jamie continued pulling her dress off out of his sight and then sat down against the wall by the door, warm and comfortable in her flannel pajamas.
“Up until tonight, I wasn’t sure I could love anyone but you.”
“Are you sure it’s love? Is it possible that it might be simple attraction? After all, he is close to your age, and he has a similar story.”
The idea wasn’t new, but it was something she had not made an effort to think any further about, in order to avoid ruining something she might want.
“It’s not that it hasn’t come to mind, but I haven’t thought about it.”
Michael went to the mini-bar and pulled a pair of beers from the fridge. He handed one to her and got a smile in return, showing that she appreciated the effort.
“So,” he started before interrupting it with a large pull from his bottle, “what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to try to make something of this in the next two days?”
“I don’t know!”
He could see that his questions were aggravating her, but only in that it was addressing something she refused to think about. She was enjoying herself, and it wasn’t his place to deny that to her, but eventually she would be faced with the reality that they could not be together. That reality would be tough for her to cope with if laid on suddenly.
“Jamie, we’re finishing up here on Sunday night.”
“I know.” She did know, and wanted to avoid thinking about it.
“I don’t mind if you have some fun, and even spending time with a guy is healthy for you, but you need to remember who you are and what we are doing here. After Sunday you can’t see him again, at least not in the foreseeable future. It’s hard, but you need to keep that in mind whenever you are with him.”
There was hostility to the look she gave him, reminding him that she was not always in control of herself.
“And what if I do choose to stay with him?”
“You and I both know that won’t be allowed to happen.” He sat down across from her- the better to remind her that he was always near. “Even if I were to consent, the agency would find you and would kill him. Would you wish that on him? Add to that the possibility of a mechanical failure, which you can’t deal with anywhere but the agency...”
“This body... I hate what it’s turned me into.”
She tossed back her head and finished the bottle, tossing it carelessly aside on the floor in order to go back to hugging her knees to her chest.
“Tell me something, Michael... What exactly is my purpose? What is it that I am supposed to be suffering like this for? Vengeance? Certainly that has been a prime motivator in my life recently, but I can’t say that I believe that was your intention from the start. So what was it? What did you plan for me to become as a cyborg before you started us on this endless search for justice?”
She needed an answer this time. Brushing it aside would only destroy her inside.
“The only thing I was focused on when this all started- the thing that I wanted most for you- was for you to be alive and well. I figured the consequences and requirements would be worth it if you were able to live. In order to live, you had to be given over to them and their designs.”
What was it with all of these damn self-discovery pep talks? 
“That simple, huh?”
“No.  It wasn’t easy at all.”
Silence pervaded the room for nearly an eternity as they kept to their thoughts, a silence only broken when Jamie lurched to her feet and stumbled to her bed, already feeling the alcohol.
“It’s cruel to keep using me like this. You should either take total control over me or set me free. If you refused to give me choices, I could focus better.”
Michael went to his own bed and stretched out, turning off the light. “If I did that, I’d be no better than those who hurt you. They forced your life in a direction by deciding things for you. I have always been committed to steering you towards a direction and letting you do what you need to do to be your own personality.”
“You’re cruel to leave me hanging like that.”
“I care about you, and so I give you as much freedom as I can. I’ve made sure that I can’t own you like the other handlers do. I don’t control you, and I don’t force you to do anything but the missions at hand.”
“Is that so?” 
There was a rustling from the darkness and he felt her climb onto his bed, maneuvering to his left side and settling in with the pillow.
“Then why is it that I don’t want to leave you?”
“That’s for you to determine.”
“It’s the conditioning, I know. They have programmed me to love you, and so I have to.”
“That’s just what they told you.”
She rolled over against him and he could feel her heart beating rapidly through the arm she latched on to.
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just how it sounds. They told you that you were programmed to love me. Truth is, you’re only programmed to be loyal and to protect me. Whatever feelings you might have beyond that are your own. After some problems with the earlier girls, they backed off the devotion programming a bit to ensure stability.”
Her heart settled some as she considered the idea. If they did not program her to love him, then it meant that she could make a choice not to.
“If I’m not programmed to love, then why don’t I want to leave you?”
“The same reason I don’t want to leave you. You’ve said it before, but I’m not sure you grasped the whole reality of it at the time.” He could almost hear her mind working on that, but knew it was going to take time. “You should go to sleep. Maybe you’ll dream about it.”
The cryptic answer irritated her, and she pulled away, yanking his pillow from under his head and curling up with it, silently daring him to even try to take it back.
“Maybe I will.” She responded in a defiant tone, as if she could make it happen at will.
“Good night, Jamie.”
Sleep once again claimed them, and the dreams were as frightening as ever.