La Femme Nikita

Title: Dangerous When Crossed 

Author/pseudonym: Tinnean 

Fandom: La Femme Nikita 

Pairing: Exx/Wye 

Rating: NC-17 

Disclaimer: They belong to Fireworks and WB, who do not deserve them! 

Status: new/complete 

Date: 4/00 

Series/Sequel: This is the second part of the Torture Twins Trilogy 

Summary: What happens when the head of Section One’s interrogation department is crossed. 

Warnings: m/f, m/m, AU 

Notes: This is my revenge for when TPTB canceled a very fine television show, the first time.

Dangerous When Crossed

Part 1

Exx, the female half of the operatives known as the Torture Twins, was having a miserable night. 

She tossed and turned, trying to woo Morpheus, but having no luck. 

Wye, her male counterpart, had been sent by the head of Section to Three, somewhere in the hinterlands of Hollywood. Madeline wanted first-hand observation of their interrogation methods. 

**** 

Normally this task would have gone to Exx as senior of her department, but a particularly nasty strain of stomach virus had taken her down for the long count. Dangerously dehydrated, she had been ordered to MedLab when she unexpectedly fainted into the arms of her partner. Her heart rate was found to have escalated to the degree where they weren't sure IV fluids would be enough to pull her through. 

Wye had literally been beside himself, and refused to leave MedLab until Exx had past the danger point. 

Madeline might have been tempted to push for their separation, but the duo's numbers had been through the roof, and for once she was content to leave well enough alone. 

But she did come to the conclusion that the pair might be even sharper after some time apart. And so she sent Wye to Hollywood, not a little curious as to his reaction to the gorgeous operatives who staffed Three.

He had been gone for a number of days when Exx, after suffering an unexpected relapse, was finally released from MedLab. She was restricted to light duty and so decided to see if she could put a dent in the endless mounds of paperwork that always seemed to accumulate the moment their backs were turned. 

Wye had taken over that task for her when he realized how much she loathed it, and had no problem staying on top of it. But with her illness and then his departure for the California coast, there was a mountain of order forms for chemicals and equipment waiting for her to fill out in triplicate and forward to the proper departments, and reports that needed to be brought up to date and filed. 

When the print began to swim before her eyes, she tossed her pen aside in disgust and rose shakily to drag herself into her kitchenette. She set a mug of water into the microwave and waited for it to heat, then tossed in a bouillon cube. The hot broth warmed her insides and she felt marginally better after finishing it, but her cupboard was decidedly bare. She knew she'd have to submit a request to Dietary to get some supplies in until she was able to leave her quarters. 

With a sigh she reached for her 'link' and was surprised when Christopher, the notoriously temperamental head of Dietary, picked up. Everyone including Interrogation, trod warily around the man who ruled the kitchens of Section. Knowing it would never do to let him sense weakness, Exx spoke as tersely as possible. 

"Christophe, c'est moi, Exx." 

To her amazement, she heard concern in the dietitian's voice. "Exx, comment-ca va?" 

He wanted to know how she was? She pinched herself to make sure this wasn't a fever-dream. "Comme si, comme ca, merci," she replied politely. Yeah, right, ‘so-so’! She actually felt like something even the cat would hesitate to drag in. Which wouldn't have been too intolerable if Wye had been there with her. "Ah, Christopher, I called because I really need some supplies sent up to my quarters. I know this is generally against your policy, but..." 

"Mais non, non! It will be my pleasure. Just tell me what it is that you require!" 

Exx knew for certain this had to be a dream, but she was not about to question her good fortune. She squinted at the orders MedLab had sent home with her and read off the provisions that would be necessary until she was able to get out and about in Section again. 

On the other end of the line she could hear Christopher sub-vocalizing the order into his PDA. "Bon, d'accord Exx. I shall have this to you before the cat can, how you say, wash its face?" 

"'Lick its whiskers'," she corrected absently. "Merci, Christophe, merci bien." 

"C'est rien!" 

It's nothing? Since when was the martinet of the commissary so obliging? Thoughtfully she broke the connection and picked up her pen. She'd have to wait for the supplies to be delivered before she could get any rest, so she might as well get back to the list of chemicals Madeline was constantly having them use. Her demand was so great that they went through inordinate quantities and needed to replenish them on an almost weekly basis. 

Exx lost track of time and it was with a start that she heard the discreet tap on her door. Despite his assurances to the contrary, Christopher had taken his sweet time about it! One of his subordinates, who looked to be barely out of his teens, took the items into the kitchenette. It was only as he fumbled with the containers that Exx realized how nervous he was. 

Sadly it struck her that there was no one in Section who did not fear her. Even Madeline on whose suggestion she had been brought to Section One, and Operations who was technically her superior were wont to give her a wide berth. 

The only one who seemed to care anything about her was Wye. 

Exx sent the dietary tech on his way and poured herself a glass of orange juice while waiting for another mug of water to heat. The doctor's last words, "...and drink plenty of fluids!" boomeranged around her brain. 

"Yeah, and I'll be pissing the night away!" she thought sourly, and then had to grin at the unintentional pun. She secured her quarters and took a shower to wash away the miasma of illness that still clung to her. 

**** 

Wrapped in a flannel nightgown to ward off the chill that she was ever susceptible to, she flipped the switch of her electric blanket and huddled under the covers, waiting for the warmth to envelope her. 

Her thoughts drifted to the male torture operative who shared her days, and too often visited her dreams at night. She pictured him dressed for business in their usual unrelieved black. 

Then, in her mind’s eye, she slowly began to undress him. The overcoat would be the first to go, sliding off broad shoulders, followed by the collarless jacket he had taken to wearing. After that, the narrow maroon tie and the plain Oxford shirt. Her mouth went dry with the longing to press her lips to the pulse point that beat strongly in his throat, suckling it and leaving her mark. She would let her fingers toy with his waistband, easing her hands past the barrier it formed, reaching in to cup him gently... 

Although the blanket had not yet reached optimum heat, she found herself quite warm. 

And then the images she had created would not let her rest. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot in her bed. Now too hot, she tossed back her blankets. 

Before long, chills began wracking her body. She pulled the blankets back over her. 

And so it went. She suffered alone, first hot and then cold, while half way around the world, Wye was healthy and surrounded by a bevy of female operatives known throughout all the Sections as being the most beautiful and the most sexy. 

If she thought for even one minute he was actually enjoying himself, she would crawl to Section Three from her sickbed, find her counterpart, and hurt him. Severely. 

She pulled the covers snugly around her shoulders and curled onto her side. 

She was miserable. 

And she missed him, dammit!

Part 2               

The figure clothed in black stalked through the corridors of Section Three. To all intents and purposes he was lost in thought, but in reality it was a ruse to conceal his distress. His palms were sweaty and his mouth was dry. 

The tension in his shoulders and neck was translating to serious pain: his head began to pound to the rhythm of the blood pulsing through his veins. 

He knew *they* were watching him. He had often been under scrutiny at Section One, and before that, in the other place. But never had he had the sensation that those eyes were undressing him, stroking him, ...fondling him. His skin felt like it really belonged to a smaller man but had somehow found its way onto his body. 

Wye strode around a corner and came to an abrupt halt. He had almost knocked down his opposite number here in Three. 

She was a veritable Amazon, smooth, firm muscles rippling under flawless mocha skin, black hair a cap of riotous curls snug against her skull. Six feet two in her stocking feet, she was in the habit of wearing stiletto heels that brought her height to almost a half foot more than the operative standing before her. He had to tip back his head to look into her bittersweet chocolate eyes. 

A sultry smile parted her lips. "You be in a hurry, Sweet Cheeks?" 

"Ma'am?" Wye had been raised in a hard school: you gave *nothing* to the foe. And despite the fact that she was Section, she was not *his* Section. He considered her an enemy. 

Since he had gotten to Three, she had made it abundantly clear that she was attracted to him. If he wanted to sample her bed, she would be happy to trip him and beat him to the mattress. 

This puzzled him. What was it about him that drew her? He deliberately dressed so as not to call attention to his looks and physique. 

Wye knew he had a fit body; Section would not have permitted anything less. But women were somehow put off by the blank affect he wore like a mask. Women did not throw themselves at him; in fact they tended to avoid him. And if they saw past the thick lenses that shielded his eyes, the barely restrained violence reflected back frightened them off. 

He could count the number of affairs he had had in his adult life on the fingers of one hand. 

In fact, before Operations had taken him from that other place to come to Section, he had not been with a woman for more years than he cared to acknowledge. Those available to him had been so used and beaten down that even if the odds of their being disease-free were better than twenty/eighty he wouldn't have been able to bring himself to touch them. 

And while the possibility that he might well be impotent sometimes crossed his mind, he shrugged off the passing thought as no longer consequential. 

And then he had come to Section and been given to the torture op known as Exx, to be her material. 

And his libido had sprung embarrassingly back to life. For six months he had managed to keep hidden the fact that he would be willing to sell his soul for the opportunity to strip off that prissy black suit that clothed her like armor. He was mesmerized by the cool blue eyes that regarded him so calmly behind the glasses she wore but didn't need. 

He found himself living for a touch of her fingers as she passed him a beaker, or adjusted the protective face gear he wore when they worked on a new chemical mixture, brushing by his eyes or mouth. 

Until one day, just like that, she was on the floor under him, his frantic hands yanking at her skirt, shredding the gossamer strips of fabric that were her under-things. And she, oh wonder! was *helping* him, her nails scoring his back, her mouth rapacious on his! 

**** 

"Earth to Wye! You in there boy?" 

Startled, Wye's normally inexpressive eyes glowed with the heat of remembered passion, and Dos took an involuntary step back. Then she got herself in hand and invaded his personal space. 

"Whoowee, Sweet Cheeks, you want to make more hot memories?" 

Wye had himself back under control. "Excuse me, Ma'am?" 

Dos wasn't about to give up, not after that tantalizing glimpse of fire. Her breasts pressed up against his chest. She could feel the solid muscle beneath that drab overcoat he insisted on wearing, in spite of the California heat. This boy definitely had potential! 

"Come, Sweet Cheeks. We go back to my pad. Ain't no one in Section One can do you like me!" She rocked her pelvis against his groin, aware of his erection. "Don't tell me you don't want some of this!" 

His body had let him know when he was first introduced to her that it was interested in what the statuesque operative was offering, but he squelched its incipient arousal and kept  his replies to her double entendres deliberately innocuous 

This time, Wye looked into those bittersweet eyes, then glanced down at his crotch. "Ma'am, *that's* not what makes my decisions!" 

Her hand connected with his cheek. It was the same cheek that Exx had struck not so long ago, and while the bruising had faded, it was still tender. He couldn't prevent a wince, which pleased the Amazon before him. "I freaking *hate* it when men call me 'ma'am'! And remember, you, I your senior here at Three. You do what I say or you be cancelled!" 

Wye let a small smile curve his lips. "Feel free, Dos." For the first time he used her name. "However, if I did as you wished, Exx would cancel me herself!" 

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why that woman care one way or t’other what I do with you?" 

He shrugged. "I'm hers!" 

"You work under her?" Dos demanded clarification. She was afraid where this was heading. 

"Among other things," Wye replied. 

"Sh..! Why I not informed?" 

"I imagine Madeline didn't feel it was necessary to the task at hand." 

Dos scowled at him. "You been at One long enough to know better, boy! Madeline got something in mind when she send a sweet thing like you to Three and tell nobody you Exx's! Come on, we got to see Uno! He not gonna be happy, I tell you that!" 

She grabbed Wye's hand and dragged him after her. He jerked her to a sharp halt. “Why?” he asked. “Why do I get to see him now, when for the last four days he’s been too busy to meet for the usual exchange of credentials?” 

Dos was uneasy. The man before her was too ‘white bread’ to be believed. “He say we see what kind operatives Section One be turning out these days. We cut you loose, throw the girls at you, see what fun you look for. But you don’t look, you don’t play! Even with me, and I know for damn sure your body like mine fine!” 

They had wanted him to have sex with the operatives who had flirted so outrageously with him? What exactly was going on here? Wye’s expression gave nothing away. “You can’t be virtuous without temptation, Dos,” he said. “I was sent here on Section business, not to pleasure your undeniably beautiful operatives.” 

She snorted inelegantly and marched ahead of him, down the corridor to the room called Coffin Nails, where Uno, senior interrogation operative lounged and drew deep, luxurious lungfuls of tobacco smoke. 

“Man, we got a problem here!” Dos told him angrily. “Sweet Cheeks, he be Exx’s. You think I play with him, get that woman riled with me, you think again! My momma don’t raise no stupid children!” 

Uno was as light as Dos was dark. He had shoulder length white blond hair tied neatly back, and pale, pale blue eyes. His fair skin was so translucent that the blue of his veins could be traced easily. “Whoa, dude, you’re Exx’s private property? Awesome, man! What’s she like, bro? Is she as deadly as they say?” 

Wye felt as if he had tumbled down the rabbit hole and landed, hard, on his head. From the Caribbean to the Valley in one easy swoop. The grip around his temples tightened. 

“Uno, I was sent here to compare procedures both Sections use to extract intel, in order to decide which is the most efficient. If you have another agenda, I cannot help you with it, and I think perhaps it might be best for you to submit your questions to Exx yourself.” 

“Think I wouldn’t, dude, if I could get access to One? No one from the outside is allowed to meet the wonder woman. Why is that, man?” 

“Sir, I couldn’t begin to tell you!” 

In the silence of the room, the sound of Uno grinding his teeth was quite audible.

Part 3 

The report that Exx was working on was taking an eternity to complete. It had to be very carefully worded to conceal as much as possible from Madeline's gimlet eye. If she ever discovered the parts her most valued operatives had played in the mission that resulted in the recurring visits Operations was now required to make to Great Britain, every last one of them would be canceled. 

With extreme prejudice. 

She was still not feeling much better than when MedLab had released her, almost a week before. Her patience was fast  becoming nonexistent, and the huge pile of paperwork awaiting her attention mocked her with its presence in the corner. 

Where the hell was Wye when she needed him? If she didn't get some relief, and very soon, she just might run amok and do serious damage to Section One! 

She suddenly stilled. Where was Wye? Surely he should have been back by now? Dealings with other Sections never took more than a few days, and it was considerably longer than that. 

Unless he had an assignation he was keeping on downtime granted him by Madeline after completion of this assignment? Exx found she did not like that thought at all. 

She assured herself it was merely because she detested anything that interfered with the smooth running of her department. If Wye was off on some remote tropical isle having a naughty weekend, well, it would have been nice if she, as his superior, had been informed. It would have been nice if she was there. But she was here, in Section One, feeling thoroughly wretched, stuck doing his job. 

Exx was working herself into a fine state when her 'link' chirruped. She scowled at it and flipped it open. "Que pasa?" 

"Exx? It's Madeline. Do you feel well enough to come to my office, or shall I come to you?" 

The interrogation op looked around uneasily. Have Madeline come down to her quarters, when they were looking more like a tornado had just blown through than usual? 

Not bloody likely! 

"Madeline, just give me a few minutes to freshen up and I'll be at your office." 

"Excellent!" Before Exx could ask what they would be meeting about, the connection was severed, leaving her to stare thoughtfully at the unit in her hand. 

Tossing it aside, she strode into her bedroom, suddenly feeling much better. Maybe there was real work for her to do, someone in the White Room to hurt! She shrugged off the maroon velour robe she wore to ward off the chill she could never quite shake and let her flannel nightgown puddle at her feet. 

As quickly as possible she donned the clothing that consisted of her workaday uniform, giving a brief tug to be sure the sleeves of her suit jacket smoothly covered the sleeves of the white oxford shirt under it. 

Exx wrestled her arms into her final piece of armor, the black overcoat, then headed out the door, sliding on the wire-rimmed glasses she was never without. 

**** 

Madeline was gazing out her window at a lovely pastoral scene when Exx arrived at her office. She stopped dead at the sight of the window. 

"Enchanting, isn't it?" the psych op asked without turning around. "A little something R&D whipped up for me." 

Exx swallowed hard. "It's good to be the head of Section!" she said under her breath. 

Of course Madeline heard her, but for once she chose not to take issue with the woman who would have been her trainee if she hadn't come to Section already trained to lethal perfection. 

"I'll get right down to business. Oh for pity's sake, sit down Exx. You're giving me the fidgets standing there like that!" 

Reluctantly, Exx took the chair on the opposite side of Madeline's impressive desk. Although she concealed it well, the torture operative  was beginning to get nervous. When Madeline did not use a perfect excuse to throw her weight around, then things in Section were definitely rotten! 

Why had she been called to Madeline's office? 

Madeline steepled her fingertips and regarded the woman before her seriously. "We...have a situation. As you know, Three requested your presence at a conference concerning various methods we use to extract intel. We could not afford to let you go." 

"Well, that was moot anyway, wasn't it? I got sick." 

Madeline looked away. 

"I did get sick, didn't I? I was puking up my guts in MedLab long enough, and God knows I still feel lousy enough!" 

Still Madeline did not answer her. 

"Madeline!!!" 

With a sigh, Madeline stood up and came around her desk. "No, Exx, you weren't sick, not in the true sense of the word. I arranged to have you ingest something. You had a touch of food poisoning." 

"You had something put in my food? So that’s why Christopher was so helpful, so willing to oblige! Falling all over himself to be of assistance! That miserable, frog-eating son of a whore! I'll make him sorry he ever decided to pick up a ladle!" 

Madeline was taken aback. She had never seen the female half of the infamous torture twins lose her temper. She watched in fascination as Exx leaped from her seat and paced the area in front of her desk, muttering imprecations which did not bode well for the head of Dietary. 

"Exx, please, calm yourself and sit down. I could not afford to let you go to Three. The operatives there are..." she paused as she searched for the most descriptive term, and shuddered. "They're so American! Birkoff was able to liberate intel that revealed the motive behind this meet that they wanted. They were planning to hold you..." 

"'Hold me'?" Exx interrupted dumbly. "Why?" 

The twist to Madeline's lips was bitter. "Exx, try not to be naive. You are the most valuable interrogator we have ever obtained! And  not just here in One, but in all  the Sections! There was no way I was going to let Three have the opportunity to snatch you!" 

"So you made me so sick I nearly died! Or was whatever it was you slipped me supposed to make me tachycardic and give me arrhythmias as well?" 

Madeline had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. "No, that was a totally unexpected side-effect. But a most fortuitous one. It gave us a perfect excuse to send Wye in your place, and there was no way Three could object." 

"Okay, fine. You not only made me sick as a dog, you sent my trainee, who, I might add, has not completed his training into a dicey situation! So why have you called me here? And why tell me all this now?" 

"As I started to tell you, we have a situation. Please sit down Exx." 

Ungraciously, Exx dropped back into her seat and glowered at her superior. "Happy now?" she snapped. 

Madeline regarded her in amazement. "Being ill reveals a decidedly charming side of you, Exx!" 

A suggestion to perform an anatomically impossible act was spat out before Exx could censor her language. It hung on the air in the shocked silence that followed. Exx became ashen; Madeline's face turned an alarming shade of puce and her eyes were almost crossed. 

And then a guffaw burst through her elegant mouth, followed by gales of laughter. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving trails of mascara in their wake. She groped through her desk for a tissue and mopped her eyes and blew her nose. 

"Thank you for that, Exx. It's made me feel much better. To know that your iron control... Oh my!" And she chuckled again. 

Some of Exx's color returned. "I can't tell you how pleased that makes me!" she said sarcastically. 

Madeline got herself back in hand. "I apologize for that, Exx. I've been under a bit of a strain lately." 

"Yes, well, if we have a situation here at Section, I'd appreciate it very much if you'd tell me what, exactly, it is." 

Madeline got very serious. "I sent Wye to Section Three in your place, hoping they would accept your illness at face value. I hoped they would either conduct the conference, or call it off indefinitely." 

"And...?" 

"They've done neither. They are demanding your appearance in Three within the next twenty-four hours." 

"Why do I hear an 'or' here?" 

"There is an 'or'. Either you go to Three, or Wye comes back here. 

"One piece at a time!" 

Part 4   

Uno, senior interrogations operative of Section Three, was comfortably sprawled at his desk, his feet propped on a corner of it. Dos, his female counterpart, had the questioning of the Section operative well in hand, and he contemplated his future plans with great satisfaction. 

He doubted that Section would send anyone to retrieve the operative he had safely tucked away. Even if he was Exx's toy, her reputation was such that Uno was sure she would write off her trainee with an indifferent shrug and replace him. After all, the prisons were so full that a never-ending supply of recruits was always available. 

Uno was also sure that Exx would be intrigued enough by the audacious snatch of her trainee, and the impertinent message sent after, that she'd personally come to Three to see who had masterminded the act. Once she met him, and heard his master plan to take over the running of Three, with her promoted to the position of his Number Two he was sure that everything would fall into place. 

And with this coup presented to George as a fete accomplii, Uno would be the youngest Section head in all their organization. He would be legend! 

Life was way sweet! 

**** 

Prime, the head of Section Three, scowled at the woman seated behind his desk. "Madeline, what are you doing here, and why are you sitting in my chair?" 

Her lips curved into a soft smile that did not reach her eyes. "Thomas." She glanced pointedly at her watch. "It must be marvelous to start your work day after lunch!" 

"This is California, Madeline. We run on a different clock than our European counterparts!" 

"Indeed?" 

Prime ran a finger around his collar, trying to make some breathing room. Once, not too long ago, he had had Madeline. She had writhed and moaned in his arms, driving him mad with her uninhibited lovemaking. 

One would never know it from her demeanor now. She pushed herself away from his desk and rose. Dressed in a neat slack suit, her reddish brown hair once again shoulder length, she was the epitome of a competent businesswoman. 

Her mouth a determined slash, she paused to stand in front of him. "We seem to have a problem Thomas. Actually, you have the problem, but it has spilled over to my Section. You've heard of my torture operative, Exx?" 

His stomach started to churn and he could feel acid eating away at its lining. "All the Sections know of Exx. What am I dealing with here, Madeline?" 

"Meet Exx." 

From the shadows behind his door, a petite figure emerged. She was dressed in unrelieved black. Wire-framed glassed perched on her nose, making it impossible to read the expression in her eyes. She carried a small, yellow case. 

"Exx, this is Prime. He heads up Three. This involves my interrogators, Thomas. Someone from your Section requested a meeting with Exx to compare notes, so-to-speak. She was unexpectedly taken ill," Madeline ignored the sardonic raise of his eyebrow, "and her trainee took her place. We have reason to believe that he's being held here, against his will." 

"Excuse me?" Prime had been staring at Exx in fascination, but this got his attention with a vengeance. And then his complexion darkened. "Who, Madeline?" 

"The invitation was extended by someone calling himself Uno." 

Prime swore. For six minutes he turned the air blue with his invective, and both Madeline and Exx listened in admiration to the extensiveness of his vocabulary. 

Finally Madeline thought it was time to bring it to a halt. "I take it you were uninformed." 

"That little shit has been a thorn in my side since he stepped into that position! I've had to keep an eye on him from day one to prevent him from stabbing me in the back!" 

"I'm afraid this is the starting point in his plan to topple you." 

Prime glared at Madeline. "Do you think I don't know that? But why detain one of your interrogators?" 

"He wants Exx. Her reputation has preceded her." 

Exx spoke for the first time. "Unfortunately for him, he does not realize that, while I may cancel my trainees myself if the need should arise, I do not permit anyone else to threaten them. Not George, not Madeline, not you, and certainly not a minor operative like Uno!" 

"Uno is not a minor operative. He is the head of my interrogation team, and George is most...fond of him!" 

Exx's teeth bared in a feral grin. "Not for long!" 

**** 

Uno headed toward The Stage, Three's version of Operation's Observation Deck. In another place, and in a another man, his pace might almost be considered a skip. 

But because this was  Section, and because he was senior of his department, he regarded it as merely a jaunty swagger. 

Uno had received an urgent message from Three's head to put in an appearance on The Stage. A frison of excitement wriggled up the nape of Uno's neck, and he tried to subdue it, knowing Prime's all-seeing eye would seize it and worry it until he discovered the reason why his operative was so pleased. 

His plan to overthrow Prime was in progress, and no one was aware of it except Dos. Three would belong to him before the day was out! 

And Exx would be his interrogator! 

Of course, Dos thought that position was hers, and she would not be pleased to find someone else in the slot she coveted. Uno paused at the door of The Stage, considering the most feasible solution to the problem that was Dos' ambition. A self-satisfied smirk twisted his lips. 

Perhaps he'd let Exx deal with her! 

He rapped smartly on the door and entered blithely. "You sent for me Prime?" And then he stopped dead. 

Prime was not alone. Next to him stood a striking woman of average height. Brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, regarded Three's senior interrogation op with a coldness that chilled his soul. 

Who was this woman? 

"Uno, I'm sure you've heard of Madeline, who heads Section One? She's told me a most amazing tale!" 

"Really, Prime?" Uno felt as if the air surrounding him had suddenly become oppressive, weighing down on him. "Madeline, how nice to finally meet you!" He tried to act unconcerned. "And what tale have you brought us?" 

Prime strolled to where the ambitious op stood and he flicked the string tie Uno wore. "You're not surprised that the head of One would want a meeting with me?" 

Why was it that the floor seemed like quicksand and he was fast being sucked under? "Should I be? She's head, you're head: you must have a ton of 'head' things to discuss! And I'm sure I'll only be in the way. We can do lunch and have our confab some other time!" 

"Actually Uno, Madeline is merely here to safeguard the presence of another member of One." 

A petite blond came out from behind Madeline and Uno watched, intrigued in spite of himself. She was so contained that she seemed to walk without disturbing the atmosphere around her. 

Uno found himself mesmerized by her. His trousers grew embarrassingly snug as his body reacted to her presence. "Well, well,  Sweet Pea, and just who are you?" He slanted a seductive glance at her that had never failed to make any recipient weak in the knees. 

Madeline covered her mouth with her manicured fingertips, knowing that particular sobriquet was almost maniacally loathed by her senior torture operative. The muscles in the corners of Exx’s eyes tightened. 

"I am Exx," she said shortly, "and I understand that you arranged a conference specifically to get me here in Three. As I was ill at the time, my associate came in my place, and for some reason his return to me has been delayed." 

Uno's mouth went dry, with desire, and just a tinge of fear. "Uh, yes. Wye. He made it plain he wanted to remain after the conference, so of course we were pleased to accommodate him." 

"And your message that he would be returned to me only in pieces if I did not appear here within twenty-four hours?" 

"Surely, not!" Uno laughed, although it sounded forced, even to his own ears. He glanced uneasily at Prime. 

The head of Three seemed to be involved in an intense conversation with his opposite number from One. If Uno could get the little blond off The Stage and into his own territory, he might just be able to pull off the coup he had long dreamed of. If he could  seduce her away from Section, he was sure Three would fall into his palm like a piece of ripe fruit. 

"I want to see Wye." The flat statement gave him the opportunity he was looking for. 

"Of course! If you'll come with me?" Uno was almost orgasmic with pleasure at how well everything was falling into place. He ushered Exx off The Stage. 

Prime watched their departure thoughtfully. "She'll be safe with him?" he asked. "She's so tiny!" 

"My dear Prime, she is Exx. I hope you have someone to replace Uno? If Wye has been damaged in any way, I'm afraid Exx will be most unhappy!" She smiled. 

Prime felt a drop of nervous perspiration trickle down his spine as he backed away from her.           

Part 5   

Dos was seated before a bank of computers in the antechamber of Three's White Room. She frowned and swore as she glanced from  her monitor to the video screen in front of her. She had been trying to put together the report on the operative Uno wanted broken. 

So far there had been no luck with either. 

She heard the door behind her open and toggled to get out of the incriminating screen. "What you want?" she snarled as she spun around. She saw that it was the senior interrogations op entering and  blew out a breath of relief. "Man, I glad you here! This one, he be one bad mother! He bend, but he don't break, him!" 

Then she spotted the petite figure following Uno and she folded her lips into a disapproving line. "Why you bring this woman-child with you?" 

"This is Exx, Dos! She wants to see Wye!"  Uno was so exhilarated to have the Section One operative on his turf that he looked ready to do a happy dance. 

Dos looked closely at the woman who was regarding the video screen. "You be Exx for true?" 

Exx's shielded eyes shifted to observe the Amazon who was seated at the console. Dos paled, her face turning a muddy gray. Jerkily she rose from her seat and backed to put some distance between them. 

"I want nothing to do with this! I just follow orders, me! This whole thing Uno's plan!" 

Exx dismissed her as irrelevant. "Where is my trainee?" She put down the small yellow case she carried. 

"He in there!" Dos pointed to one of the doors that stood in the opposite wall, moving further away from the torture operative. 

Exx glanced briefly at the door, then looked back at Dos and smiled. Dos' insides clutched as she barely prevented herself from having a childish accident. "What you gonna do?" 

"Me? What can I do? After I ascertain that my trainee truly does not wish to return to Section, I will conclude the conference with Uno and leave. By the way, would you care for a cookie? Christopher makes them especially for me, and I brought some along, as a goodwill gesture, comprenez?" 

Exx took a large, maple-oatmeal-raisin-chocolate chip cookie out of the yellow case and presented it to the confused Dos. The woman took it as if she expected it to sprout fangs and strike. With a final, panicked look at Uno, she bolted from the room. 

"Funny," Uno remarked in a puzzled tone, "Dos usually isn't so skittish. Ah, well. Come, I'll show you Wye. He's really not worthy of you, you know. He's got nasty scars all over his body, were you aware of that?" Uno shuddered delicately. In actuality he was fishing to see if they had a physical relationship. 

"I have no reason to see his scarred body," Exx lied, in a bored tone. "Can we get on with it? I *would* like to be done with this business as quickly as possible. 

"Well, I know an excellent plastic surgeon, if you decide you want him back." 

Exx tapped her toe impatiently. 

"O-kie, fine!" And Uno threw open the door. 

**** 

The interior of the room was blindingly white, except for the red splatters at odd intervals. A naked Wye was slumped  on the padded floor, fighting to remain conscious. 

Exx tightened her mouth and dropped to her knees beside him. "He's going to have a new set of scars," she said as she examined the slashes on his back. 

“If we allow him to live!” 

She ignored that. Her fingertips lightly traced the vicious marks down past his waist and over his buttocks, where they stilled briefly. "Was it necessary to have him flogged?" 

Uno shrugged. "He attacked a number of our female operatives and we had to punish him!" He had built an airtight case against the Section operative. There were even sworn statements from the women he 'attacked'. If Uno was presented with evidence like that against one of his people, he would have no trouble believing it: he trusted none of them! 

Exx rose lithely. "Is that how you do it in Three?" 

"Of course!" the senior op told her with pride. "We're civilized here in California!" 

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. 

"Exx?" A hoarse whisper turned her attention back to her counterpart. 

"Yes, Wye, I'm here." She knelt next to his beaten body. 

"Sorry. Didn't want to let them use me to get to you." 

She stroked back his hair. "So you allowed them to brutalize you?" 

He turned his head to face her voice. His eyes were swollen shut. His nose had been broken. Blood had dried on the padding under him. "This is nothing!" he managed to get past split lips. "I've had worse done to me." 

"Yes, I know. In that other place." She prodded his ribs gently and he hissed in pain, then she leaned close to his ear. "I will get you out of here. Trust me!" 

He tried to smile and winced from the pain in his torn mouth. "Always did!" He clung to consciousness. "Don't know what they want. Didn't tell them anything!" 

And then he lost his struggle to remain conscious and fainted. 

Uno nudged him with a fastidious toe. "He's not a very competent operative, is he?" 

Exx took his arm and drew him away from the prone figure of her operative. "He's served his purpose, don't you think Uno? After all, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to see what had become of him." 

They reentered the antechamber and Uno grinned at her rakishly. Exx leaned her hip against the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. Idly she swung her foot back and forth, watching it as if it was the most interesting thing she had even seen. 

"So, let me give you the 411. Prime is on The Stage right now, and so is Madeline, which is way lucky! I have someone in Munitions working for me and she's rigged The Stage to flood with carbon monoxide! We can get rid of them both in one easy move! You'll have One, I'll have Three! We can combine them and once we're consolidated, we can take on Oversight! We'll be like Caesar and Cleopatra! The civilized world will be ours!" 

"Why choose me though?" 

"Because you're a strong woman. You don't let sentiment get in your way! I've been studying your dossier. Granted it doesn't tell me anything about what you did before Section, but since you've been there, you've had no problem canceling anyone Madeline or Operations targeted. You're cold, you're ruthless, you're just who I want backing me up!" 

"What about Dos? I assume as your Number Two she will be expecting to fill that position?" 

He smiled charmingly and shrugged. "She may expect it, but that doesn't mean she's going to get it! If she proves difficult, you have my permission to cancel her! See how accommodating I can be? She's such a 'betty' and she's my lover, but I don't let that stand in the way of my destiny!" 

Exx returned his smile coolly. "Yes, I can see that." She reached into her yellow case and withdrew another luscious tidbit. "Have a cookie Uno," she suggested, "and we can discuss this in detail." 

Uno accepted the maple-oatmeal-raisin-chocolate chip cookie and saluted her with it. He took a large bite and chewed slowly, relishing the tastes and textures. 

Exx watched thoughtfully as he finished it and licked the crumbs from his fingers. "Care for another?" 

"They're rather filling, aren't they?" he remarked as he took a second cookie. "You're not having any?" 

"I had a meal on the flight over." 

"Ummm," he mumbled around bites. "These are very good. Christopher is an excellent chef. I look forward to taking him away from you!" 

"Why would I let you take him?" 

"Oh, I think as Prime, I'll be able to make you do anything I want!" 

"And you want Christopher." 

"Like I said, he's a great cook!" 

"Yes, but Uno, he did not prepare these cookies that you have been enjoying. I made this batch!" 

Uno choked and his eyes bulged. “What?" 

"Ah, my reputation precedes me! You've heard of my expertise with a recipe!" 

Uno scrabbled for his cell phone and stabbed in a number. "Dos, pick up! Pick up, dammit!" The other end continued to ring monotonously. "You've poisoned her as well, haven't you?" 

"Of course. As your Number Two, I can't afford to allow her to live." 

Uno rammed his fingers down his throat, desperately trying to make himself vomit up the poison. 

"That won't help, I'm afraid. This is a poison that does as much harm regurgitated as it does assimilated into your system." 

Section Three's senior interrogations operative fell against a chair and then slid to the floor, beginning to scream in agony as the deadly concoction worked on him, slicing through his internal organs, pushing him toward madness from the unbearable, unbelievable, unending torture. Blood dripped from his badly bitten lips. His body spasmed as pain ripped through him. 

Exx watched through cold eyes, crouched near him. During a deceptive lull in the torment she took his head in her hands and turned it so he couldn't avoid her eyes. 

"I could have made this quick and relatively painless, Uno. I'll tell you why I didn't. You hurt what is mine! Did you think because I don't often leave Section One that I am ignorant, that I can't recognize signs of sodomy when I see them? Why did you subject him to that?" 

Uno struggled to breathe through the waves of agony that were engulfing him. His eyes were blind with suffering. "He wouldn't break! His strength...! Even when I took him, he mocked me!" 

“You did it?” Exx unfolded her body and drew her foot back to kick him. 

"Exx! Don't!"                                                            

The gaze that turned toward Wye was so vengeance-filled he recoiled from it. This was the Exx he had heard tales of but never had occasion to see. 

For a moment the tableau held. "Don't punish him for what he did to you? Sorry, Wye, I'm not that forgiving!" 

The full force of her weight was behind the blow that caught Uno in his ribs. He cried out and curled onto his side, away from the unexpected source of pain. A froth of blood appeared at his mouth, indicating a cracked rib had punctured his lung. 

Exx shifted her stance to a more balanced one, and began to methodically boot Uno's unprotected kidneys. Again. And again. 

And again. 

Finally, out of breath, she staggered away from the dying operative. "That's...how we... do it... in One!" she panted and sank to the floor as her legs gave out. She leaned her head against the desk and met Wye's stunned gaze. 

He could barely see past the slits that were his eyelids. Gingerly he touched the corner of his mouth with a battered hand. "Remind me never to get you pissed at me!" 

Exx gave a reluctant laugh and crawled over to where he had collapsed. She cradled him in her arms. "Think you can walk out of here?" she asked. 

"Just get me on my feet!" 

She pulled out her 'link' and flipped it open. "Madeline? I'm afraid we'll need housekeeping down here. 

"We’re going to need a medic and some clothes for Wye. 

"And then we want to go home." 

Part 6   

Wye had his own private room in MedLab. It was tiny; it was cramped, but his was the only bed in it, for which he had originally been thankful. The last thing he wanted was to make idle chit chat with someone else confined to these facilities. 

So he was grateful for his solitude. 

It was a measure of his disorientation that he assumed any member of Section might be willing to trade small talk with him, a primary torture operative. 

The head of MedLab had kept him heavily sedated for his first days there, under Madeline's direct order. Wye's recollection of that time was blurred, pain being the most prominent feature, but he seemed to remember his mentor's voice raised almost stridently, demanding he be cared for now dammit! 

But that must have been an auditory hallucination, brought on by his heightened desire for her presence, because when he finally emerged from the haze of medication that blunted his senses, she had not been there... 

Madeline had come down to talk to him in her capacity as psych operative. Rape was devastating for anyone, but especially a man who might question his own sexuality. 

Wye assured her he was not in the least ambiguous about his sexual orientation, or about what had happened to him and advised her to discuss the matter with Operations if she had any doubt. 

Operations had dropped by to visit, walking stiffly. When he pulled up a chair, he sat gingerly, a sure indication he had just returned from a trip to visit The Man. 

Wye wound up listening to Ops pour out all his dismay and confusion. "I think I'm starting to like it!" he bewailed. "How did you deal with it, Wye?" 

The interrogation operative looked at him through a mask of bruises. "I learned early on to compartmentalize," he said shortly, hating to talk about that time in the other place. 

"But how could you maintain any degree of self-esteem?" 

"I couldn't control what was done to me, but I could control how I felt about it. And when I was old enough, I... but surely you have all this information?" 

Operations shook his head. "The records of those earlier years were destroyed. All I could retrieve was from your later teens on." 

Wye let his eyelids drift shut and said sardonically, " And you want my advice. Well, either relax and learn to enjoy it, or else just close your eyes and think of Section!" 

The next time he opened his eyes, Michael and Nikita were sitting quietly at  his bedside. The blond began chatting inanely, while the cold op ran a concerned glance over his battered frame. Then Michael had turned his blank stare to Nikita and told her, "Say goodnight, Kita." 

To the interrogation op's amazement, she had stuck her tongue out at Michael, gave Wye a saucy wink and murmured, "'Goodnight, Kita!'" 

Michael had given his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and they left, as silently as they had arrived. 

His next visitor was Birkoff. Birkoff said nothing. He just sat next to Wye's bed and played the latest version of Mortal Kombat on a color GameBoy, until Walter came to get him. 

"Come on, amigo, we got work to do!" Walter also gripped Wye's shoulder before he walked away, and Wye reflected that he would soon have another bruise to sport along with the ones he had gotten from Three. 

He ran through the operatives who had been in on the last mission and realized that only two had not seen him yet, Exx and... 

"Davenport." He was resigned. "How nice to see you again," he said politely. 

"Really? You mean it? Hey, I had some spare time so I thought I'd stop by to see how you were and say hi." He smiled at him hesitantly. "Uhhh, hi?" 

"Hi, Davenport. Bye Davenport!" 

The level three op grinned in relief and all but ran out, leaving nothing but a breeze in his wake. 

Wye sighed and then winced, breathing as shallowly as he could to spare his ribs, which were still sore. Because of  his ribs, and because his back was so severely scored by the whip used on him in Three, he was forced to lie on his side. 

He hated lying on his side. He could never fall asleep that way. 

And he desperately wanted to be asleep, to find a route to temporary oblivion. Everyone else had been in to see him. 

Why hadn’t Exx? 

A disturbing thought crossed his mind. She was aware of what Uno had done to him; indeed she had made it sound as if that was the major reason she had brutally worked him over after feeding him an esoteric poison. 

Perhaps she no longer considered Wye a real man. Perhaps she no longer wanted him as her man, her trainee. 

He  didn't want to contemplate the possibility that the woman who meant more to him than anything else in the world might no longer believe him to be worthy of  her time and effort. Uno had certainly tried to imply that! 

Maybe he should just yank out his IV and let his blood drain out, putting them all out of their misery. 

The ‘nightingale’ who was looking after him came by to check his vital signs. Gingerly, he took Wye's wrist between his thumb and forefinger and counted his pulse. Then he took Wye's temperature and blood pressure and examined the slashes. 

"Well," he said with a false cheeriness that normally would have made Wye want to strangle him, "we seem to be healing nicely! I'll just let the chief know and we can get rid of you! I mean, we’ll be able to discharge you!” 

"Fine," Wye murmured despondently. He swung his legs around and maneuvered himself into a sitting position. 

The head of MedLab stalked over, scowling. She held a clipboard and scanned the numbers recorded. "You seem to have bounced back fairly quickly." 

Wye extended his arm and the ‘nightingale’ disconnected the IV, covering the site with a small bandage. Not a single drop of blood escaped. Wye curled his lip at it and reached for a shirt to cover his marked torso.” This displeases you?" he asked. 

"Quite frankly, Wye, I'll be pleased to see the back of you. This department has never been so disrupted!" 

"I...don't understand. I’ve always been a good patient." 

"And you've been a patient so often?" The look in Wye's eyes told her the truth of the matter. "Never mind, it wasn't you who caused the problems. It was your superior! Four of my staff have refused to report for their shifts  because they're afraid she'll show up!" 

"But I haven't seen her since I got here!" 

"No, you missed all the excitement. You were either unconscious or so far out in lala land you had no clue what was going on! She caused such havoc interfering with your care that I had to have her banned from MedLab!" 

That didn't sound like the Exx he knew and... His mind clamped down on that thought. 

It just didn’t sound like her, that’s all. 

He became even more distressed. "So she stopped coming here because you told her to stay away?" 

Nobody told Exx what to do; most likely she just had lost interest in him and had used that as an easy excuse to avoid checking on his status. 

"No, nothing I said deterred her. Even when Madeline threatened to have her canceled, she laughed in her face and told her she'd be here until the moment they dragged her away to containment." 

"Then I really don't understand. What convinced her to stay away?" 

The ‘nightingale’ spoke up. "Madeline told her that if she showed up here one more time,  you would be canceled!" 

"I'm sure there's someplace else you need to be right now?" the head of MedLab snarled at her assistant. He paled and fled the room. "You just can't get good help these days!" 

Wye had been oblivious to the whole exchange. "Exx would have let herself be canceled rather than obey Madeline. But she backed off when my life was on the line?" 

The head nodded and handed him his trousers. 

Wye slid one cautious leg into them and grinned at the woman carefully observing his movements. 

Her mouth dropped open. Why had she never before noticed how appealing, how winsome, how boyish his smile was? 

She pulled herself together with a start. What was she thinking? She glowered at him from under her bangs. “Your department never ceases to amaze me! Torture and death mean nothing to you!” 

“Actually, Ma’am, it’s what we live for!” 

He slid into his shoes and prepared to leave this hellhole. All he wanted was the familiar odor of almonds: the scent of cyanide. 

And of Exx. 

Part 7  

By the time Wye reached the wardroom, he was trembling from fatigue and covered with perspiration. It didn't matter, though. He would see his mentor and things would be as they had been. 

Only, while the scent of almonds teased his nostrils, no interrogation operative awaited him there. The wardroom was empty. 

For a moment the male torture op slumped against a wall, dismayed not to find her in what she had often declared one of her more favorite spots in Section. 

He gathered his reserves. If she wasn't in the wardroom, then she had to be in The Dungeon. 

But The Dungeon revealed no operative at work among the instruments of torture and mayhem. The hollow ring of his footsteps echoed dismally in the shroud of silence. 

The head of MedLab had released him to go directly to his quarters, not to gallivant throughout Section One seeking Exx. His energy flagging, he managed to drag himself to his rooms. 

He paused outside his door. Should he seek her in her own quarters? Wye turned and took a single step in that direction, but a wave of dizziness swept over him. He swore weakly and keyed in his access code. 

All he wanted was a shower to wash off the smell of MedLab. And something to satisfy the rumbling in his stomach. 

And the petite woman who was his trainer. 

Not in that order. 

Wye caught the cloying odor of the medical facility on his skin. 

On second thought, that order! 

He carefully peeled off his shirt, easing it over the bandages that covered the worst of the slashes Uno had inflicted. His shoes were toed off and socks were flung aside. Fingers fumbled with the fastening of his trousers, which slid off his long legs and were left where he stepped out of them. 

Walking into his bathroom, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the sink and flinched. Lurid bruises of purple, green and yellow encircled his eyes, making him look like a demented raccoon bedecked for Mardi Gras. His mouth was still a trifle swollen although the cuts were mostly healed. A female tech who had cared for him in MedLab had removed the butterfly bandage over his nose, admonishing him not to walk into any doors in the near future. 

Wye sighed and carefully pulled off the bandage on his chest. This had been the worst of the lot, slicing from low on his hip to sternum, cutting to the bone and requiring so many stitches that he had lost count. He squinted down at it and then reached around to see it he could work loose the ones on his back. 

Fortunately his tech had not secured them so tightly that he would need assistance now. He got them off and staggered as a ripple of lightheadedness caused the floor to waver under his feet. 

He managed to turn on the shower and adjust the water temperature. The soothing spray washed away the days spent in MedLab and assuaged the tension in his muscles. 

Then he leaned forward, braced against the wall of the stall, and let the water flow over his abused buttocks. For the first time he allowed himself to think about what Uno had done to him. 

It had been done to him before, as he had told Madeline, although rarely with such brutality. The men who had used him in that other place, when he was so much younger, had wanted conquest, not destruction. 

**** 

An old whore had saved his sanity by teaching him the trick of it. "Boy," she had said to him as she stroked his hair out of his ravaged eyes, drowned in tears of despair, "you can't let them win. And they will if you don't learn to beat them at their own game." 

"But I hate what they do to me!" he had wept. 

"Do you think I don't?" she asked sadly. "Do you think I was born a whore? Yes, I can see you do. Poor little one, it's a cold world for the weak. The rivers are filled with those who have not the strength to fight back." 

"But they hurt me when I struggle!" He buried his face in his arms. "I wish I was dead!" 

"Oh, my little, little one! Never wish for that! Listen to me, me who tells you this! To defeat them, you must do as I tell you: with each man, struggle, but just a little, just enough so that he knows you are reluctant. Then, oh, so gradually, surrender. Return his kisses, if that’s what he wants. Moan softly, like so.” She demonstrated, a breathy sound replete with passion. “The fool will think his impressive love-making has overcome your aversion to the act. It will go easier for you, for men are ever led around by this," she gestured toward his lower body, knowing he would not be able to bear being touched there at this point. "Do as I say and you will find that they even fall in love with you a little." 

"So, I'm to let them just use me like a slut?" 

"It will be hard, I know, but survive this and then one day you will have your revenge." She spoke calmly. 

"What revenge?" 

"Ahh, that is up to you my pet. But were it me, I would cut their throats and watch them bleed!" 

"Vraiment?" 

Her smile grew cold and malicious. "No. Not really. I would..." and she leaned close to whisper in such graphic detail that he had had nightmares for months after. 

**** 

But he had followed her instructions until he grew too old to be interesting to those men anymore. 

Of course, before he left that place, Wye had gone back to each one and slid a knife across unsuspecting throats. It was like cutting through butter, and they had all died, drowning in their own blood. 

It wasn't exactly what he would have liked, what the old whore would have liked, but he was short on time. Operations was waiting to take him to Section One. 

He had no idea what awaited him in Section, but he didn't care. It got him away from that other place, and that was all that was important to him. 

Until Operations introduced him to the woman who would be his mentor. The woman who would hone his already impressive skills as an interrogator. The woman who would wake his dormant libido. 

The woman he was willing to die for. 

The woman who had killed for him. 

Part 8 

Wye was unaware that the temperature of the water was becoming tepid. But the other occupant of his bathroom wasn’t. A slender arm, unnoticed, reached in to adjust the faucets. 

The male torture operative shuddered as renewed warmth flowed over him, lost in the memories of his first day in Section. 

**** 

Operations stalked through the corridors of Section One, Wye trailing him. Although his level of anxiety was fairly high, none would have guessed it to look at him. His stride was fluid and relaxed. His face reflected nothing but mild interest. But his eyes...oh, his eyes  were cold, contained. Dangerous. Operatives passing the two glanced curiously at the shorter man, then quickly averted their gaze, hoping they hadn’t drawn his attention. 

The head of Section ushered the new recruit into human resources and gestured for him to take a seat. “This is Hercule. He will get you sorted out and then have you shown to my office. You will meet your mentor at that time.” Operations’ lips parted in what was meant to be a cordial smile. 

It missed the mark. 

Wye would have preferred if he hadn’t even tried. The people he had worked for in that other place were deadly, but they were poufs compared with the man before him who emanated such a nonchalant aura of power. 

A rustle of paper called him back to his setting. The assistant head of HR, a small man in a bad toupee, passed a packet of papers across his desk. “These are the standard disclaimers you need to read and sign: Confidentiality, attendance policy, compliance. Also Section is not responsible for any accidents, injuries, etc. during your tenure with us. If your performance at any time is unsatisfactory you will be subject to cancellation without notice.” 

Wye observed him carefully. This Hercule didn’t seem to be trying to intimidate him. “Shall I sign in blood?” Wye asked, quite seriously. 

Hercule snorted, then retrained his features to a serious mien once again. “No, this red ink will be quite sufficient!” He watched with interest as Wye painstakingly read through the tedious documents and then signed each one. “Umm, your last name is needed as well,” he told Wye. 

“I have no last name.” 

Hercule’s mouth dropped open. Everyone in Section had a last name. They might only be called by one name, but everybody had to have two names on file! That was Section policy! 

“You have to put down a last name!” the little man ordered, flustered. 

Wye scowled at him, but obligingly scrawled something after his name. It was totally illegible, but it soothed the bureaucrat’s officious soul. He nodded pompously and buzzed Operations’ office. “He’s finished here, sir.” Hercule listened attentively to further instructions that hissed across the line and jerked his head in acknowledgment, as if Operations could see him. “It shall be as you command!” 

The newest operative watched him with hooded eyes. This was the type of man who would lick the boots of whoever held the reins of power, but wouldn’t think twice of betraying his master should he no longer be in control. 

Hercule was thankfully unaware of the poor impression he was making on what could prove to be a deadly opponent. “Here is the security card for your quarters. It has already been keyed  to your DNA. Operations is unable to introduce you to your trainer at this time, so I will escort you to your quarters and see that you start getting settled in.” 

The little man bustled around his desk and attempted to take Wye’s arm. The steadfast look he met with made him change his mind about touching the younger man. Well, he didn’t really want to touch him anyway. Those clothes, faded jeans and flannel shirt! So trailer trash! So shabby! Who knew what might dwell in there besides those distractingly firm muscles? 

His mouth watering at the sight of skin that peeked tantalizingly through the worn material, Hercule sighed and swallowed. The interesting ones always proved so recalcitrant! Perhaps, if he were very clever, he might find a way to ingratiate himself with this young man? Hmmm. 

He let Wye follow him down the corridor to the commons where lifts to the various levels and sub-levels waited. “This level contains Admin and Comm. The bank of lifts we’re coming to will take you to operative quarters, the commissary and MedLab. That one over there goes to weapons, training facilities, the ready room and van access. Those are for housekeeping. And that one,” he gestured, “that one you do not need to know about.” 

Now he had aroused Wye’s interest. “Why would that be?” 

“That lift belongs strictly to our lady of the thumbscrews.” 

Wye couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter. Then he saw that the little man was quite serious. “Who is this ‘lady of the thumbscrews’?” 

Hercule looked cautiously around. Even though they were alone, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “She is the one Madeline turns to when prisoners refuse to answer nicely. She has ways of making them talk! I’ve heard tales, from housekeeping... Believe me, my friend, it is best to stay far, far away from her!” 

She sounded intriguing. 

He had never met a woman who inspired fear before. The women in the other place had no control of their lives. Hopeless, powerless. Endless fear, endless work, endless pain. Most of the men there were the same, ground under the boot heels of the men who controlled that place. Only those few, those who had authority, wielded the power and left behind them misery and despair. 

However, Wye was no fool. If someone high in the power base of Section felt this was a woman to be feared, then he, an insignificant recruit, had best tread warily. He hadn’t managed to get out of the other place only to get his throat cut here! 

Hercule stepped out of the lift and showed him the way down the corridor that led to his quarters. He handed him his access card and with a flourish  encouraged him to enter his rooms. “Your trainer will, bien sur, see to your clothing.” He shuddered delicately. 

Wye caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and wondered idly how the little man would react it he caressed the side of his face with the knife that was securely  fastened to his forearm. Of course, Operations was aware that it was there, but it amused him to let the new recruit remain armed. With the merest flick of the wrist, that deadly blade would be snug in the palm of Wye’s hand, ready to do whatever damage he chose. A small smile curved his lips, and the little man suddenly recalled that he needed to be back at his office immediately. 

“When will I meet my trainer?” he asked before Hercule could make good his escape. 

“Operations will be down as soon as his meeting is completed. He will take you to your trainer.” And then the little man was gone, almost running in his haste to leave the younger man’s disturbing presence. 

Wye strolled around his quarters, examining the small kitchen which was already stocked with a supply of food. He tentatively placed a frozen dinner in the microwave and tapped the keypad, then continued exploring while the machine hummed. There was a minuscule living area with a single chair and a desk upon which sat a computer, printer and scanner. The bedroom was also small, but it was large enough to hold  a bed and a chest of drawers. A door in one wall led to a bathroom outfitted with a shower stall, sink and commode. 

Another door proved to be a closet. Hanging in it was a single black suit and white shirt. In his size. There were shorts and t-shirts, socks and handkerchiefs in the drawers. 

Wye suddenly found it difficult to catch his breath. He had never owned such riches before! 

The timer on the microwave pinged and he went back to the kitchen to eat the most amazing food. Pot roast and gravy, peas and carrots, mashed potatoes. To be washed down with his choice of German, English or American beer! 

This organization must be extremely wealthy! To afford even the lowliest recruit such food and accommodations! And such rich clothing! 

Wye found a couple of towels and carefully removed his blade. Then he stripped off the clothes that were all that he took with him from that other place. 

He turned on the faucet and was stunned to find hot water, apparently in plentiful supply. Almost giddy, he stepped under the spray and lathered with the bar of soap he found there. Over and over he washed his hair and body, until finally he began to feel truly clean. 

There was a disposable razor above the sink, and he relished the closeness of the shave it gave him. And then he put on the cool, clean, new clothing that was waiting for him. He tidied the kitchen and sat patiently to wait for the head of Section to come for him. 

He must have dozed, because the chirrup of his comm unit startled him to awareness. He flipped it open. “Yes, sir?” 

“Wye,  I’m on my way to the commons. Do you think you can find your way back there?” 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Do it.” And the link was severed. 

Wye had taught himself early on to retrace his steps from anywhere, and it had saved him from innumerable beatings, not to mention his life on a number of occasions. He would have no  trouble getting to the spot his superior had designated. 

Operations must have called from the commons, because when Wye stepped out of the lift, the head of Section was already there. Angry with himself for making a poor impression, Wye felt  the heat rise in his cheeks. 

“Apologies, sir, for keeping you waiting.” 

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, you made excellent time. And I see you found the clothes that were left for you. Splendid, splendid.” Operations took a deep breath. He was not happy with the results of the meeting he had just come from. George was sticking his Oversight nose into Section One business again, and he was feeling the brunt of it. He needed to talk to Madeline about this new state of affairs, but first he had to turn over this recruit.  “Let me introduce you to your trainer. This is Exx. You’re hers. From now on she controls everything you do.” 

The newest member of Section was at a loss. He had not expected his trainer to be a woman, much less the petite blond who stepped forward. She was dressed in a feminine version of the black suit that he wore. 

“Excuse me, sir, are you quite sure?” 

“Indeed, indeed. I’ll just leave you two to get acquainted, shall I? I have a meeting with Madeline, you know; I must be off! Uhh... bye!” And like that, he was gone. 

“Who is Madeline?” Wye asked numbly, unable to deal with the fact that he had been passed to another’s hands,  to a woman. 

“Rumors to the contrary, Madeline runs Section.” 

He shivered at the cold in her voice. Not in his mentor’s presence five minutes and he had already annoyed her. This was not good. 

“I beg your pardon, ma’am. I know nothing of Section ways. I was not told I would be your property.” 

Despite himself, he heard the bitterness etched in his words. 

“You have a problem taking orders from a woman?” 

“No, ma’am. I have a problem being owned by one.” 

“I don’t own you, Wye.” 

“But Operations said I was yours!” He swung around finally to face her. 

Exx sighed heavily. “You’re my material. I will be your mentor. If, at the end of  three years, you have completed your training to my satisfaction, you will become a fully qualified interrogation operative. Come along, I want to get you outfitted.” 

She turned to enter the lift that would take them to supplies. Wye forced himself to follow her. “And if I don’t please you?” 

Exx slanted a glance at him before pressing the button for one of the sub-levels. “I’m not Michael, Wye. You are not under orders to please me. Follow my instructions and we’ll get along fine.” 

“Otherwise...?” 

She shrugged. “Cross me, and I’ll cancel you!” 

**** 

In spite of the rapidly cooling temperature of the water, Wye found himself as hard as he had been that day, standing next to his mentor in the lift.  

He smiled wryly as he remembered how annoyed with himself he had been. After years of abstinence, of not a single quiver in the presence of a female, his libido had sprung shockingly to life. Not over a simple village woman. Not over a demure mademoiselle. 

The deadliest woman in Section. 

And for six months after that meeting he had secretly lusted after her, picturing her naked in his arms. 

Picturing himself naked in her bed. 

Never dreaming that she wanted him too. 

Shaking his head, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

To find her standing before him, holding out a huge, white bath sheet. 

And then she wrapped him in it and held him close. 

Part 9 

Exx was able to let herself into Wye's quarters. 

Not because he had been careless and left the door unlocked, but because she had manipulated the system in order to get her own copy of his keycard. 

And if anyone in Section became aware of what she had done, being canceled was the least of what she could expect to happen. Never in all her years in Section had she so grossly abused the power her position availed her. 

Never had she been tempted to. 

The rooms were silent except for the sound of running water. She followed it to the bathroom and, noiselessly pushed open the door, slipping inside. Through the shower curtain she could see him braced against the wall, simply letting the spray beat down on his marked back. 

Despair was etched in every line of his body. And she felt her heart quietly break in two. 

She fought against the pain, her body image mirroring his. 

Exx had no idea how long he had been in there, but she could feel the room begin to cool. She shrugged out of her suit jacket, reached into the shower and adjusted the water temperature. 

And watching his silhouette through the steam and mist, she settled back to wait for him to come to terms with what had been done to him.  

It didn't matter how long it took; she had all the time in the world. She would be there. 

**** 

When Wye finally roused himself from his reverie and turned to shut off the water, she shook out one of the large bath sheets he favored and let it fall open. He stepped out of the shower and was unexpectedly enveloped in the lush folds. 

"Exx!" He could barely force her name past lips that were frozen from the shock of finding her finally here. 

She held him tightly, her head tucked just above his heart. Its rhythm was rapid but steady and reassuring to her: she hadn't lost him. He was still alive. 

Wye wanted to press her tightly to him, but instead kept himself motionless in her embrace. But he couldn't prevent the words from slipping out. "They used me as bait!" 

"Yes." 

"You didn't have to go to them!" 

"I did." 

"Why? I'm still in training; you could replace me just like that!" and he snapped his fingers. 

"It doesn't matter what your status is. You belong to me. No one hurts what is mine!" 

He didn't weep, but she could feel shudders run through him. 

"I failed you! You were endangered because of me!" 

She didn’t even try to prevent the bittersweet smile that teased her lips. "I was never in danger. Uno wanted me too badly!" 

The male operative swore vilely and pulled away from her. "That miserable piece of shit! That slime! That bastard! That... He wanted you? Did he touch you?" 

Exx was bemused by his response to a simple statement. She considered what she had said, and then realized how he had taken it. "Sorry, Wye. Let me clarify that. Uno wanted me for his plot to overthrow Prime and have Three for himself. He would never have put my life in harm's way. Not until he actually was acknowledged as the new Prime by George." 

"And then...?" 

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Quien sabe? Maybe he would have made me his Number Two. Or maybe Dos had too great a hold over him sexually and he would have let her cancel me." 

"And that doesn't bother you?" 

She gently stroked his hair, relishing the feel of the short strands under her fingertips. "Why should it? Since they are both dead. And I am not." 

"Were you that certain of yourself?" 

"Wye, who am I?" 

He was puzzled. "You're Exx." 

"Precisely. You told me once that you had heard of me, even in that other place." 

Wye turned pale and nodded, not sure where she was going with her line of thought. “We never knew your name, but it was ‘exquisite pain’ personified! Even the masters there spoke of you with awe!” 

"Have you any idea how long I have been head of this department?" Fortunately the question was rhetorical; she didn't wait for an answer. "For longer than I like to contemplate. And I'm damned good at what I do, Wye. A pimple like Uno would never have gotten the best of me! I would never have permitted it. And neither would Section!" 

"But he used me to get to you!" 

"Yes, he did." 

"I betrayed you!" 

"Merde! You really want to castigate yourself, don't you?" Patience fast slipping away, she grabbed his ears and pulled face head down to her level. "You did nothing against your training!" She kissed him, hard. "You were sent to Three by Madeline, who as the head of Section, has the power to order you anywhere. You correctly obeyed." This time she moistened her lips and let them slide sensuously over his. "You comported yourself during your stay at Three as befit my counterpart." When his lips parted under her onslaught she slid her tongue in to mate with his. "I am nothing if not proud of you!" 

But he couldn't let go of it. "You could have been killed, and it would have been my fault! You were safe here! Why did you come for me?" 

Exx pulled the towel away and let it drop to the floor. She rubbed herself against his lean body. 

"But, Wye," she murmured, "don't I always come...for you?" 

Part 10 

The male torture operative slid his hands under his mentor's arms and lifted her against him, then winced as she came into contact with the injury on his chest.  But he held her closer when she tried to wriggle away from him, and walked her backwards. 

"Wye, I'm hurting you!" 

His eyes glowed down into hers. "Do you think that matters, after you make a statement like that to me? 'I always come...for you’?” 

Suddenly she found her back against the bathroom wall,  her toes barely touching the floor. He held her hands imprisoned beside her head and  leaned his naked body along the length of hers. Wye nuzzled the lines of her throat and her scent filled his nostrils, the scent he had been starving for. His breath whispered over her jaw and cheek. 

And then his mouth began caressing her lips. Gently he increased the pressure until she opened to him with a soft moan. His tongue stroked hers and then retreated, enticing her to follow. 

With indolent movements, she ran her tongue over the serrated edges of his teeth and lapped daintily at his tongue, which moved just beyond her reach. And then he pounced, sucking voraciously at the morsel in his mouth, causing a clenching deep and low in her abdomen. 

Wye released Exx's hands but they remained by her head. His clever fingers were busy working on the buttons of her shirt, desperate to get at the treasures hidden by it. He parted the edges and filled his hands with her curves, teasing the nipples to hardened peaks. She wore a wisp of lace that abraded the palms of his hands, driving him wild. 

Wye shredded it. 

He wrapped her snugly in his embrace, but couldn't prevent himself from flinching when the tips of her breasts snagged on the healing wound across his chest. Exx pulled her mouth away from his and trailed gentle kisses along the livid laceration. 

"I killed Uno too easily!" 

Wye took a step back and held her at arm’s length. “Excuse me? I thought he died damned hard!" 

"Not hard enough! Not nearly hard enough!" She sighed. "Come on, let's get you dressed. If I can't have my wicked way with you, we'd better get that body of yours covered up!" She took his hand and began to lead him into the bedroom. 

"Wait just a minute," he pulled her up sharply. "What's this about not  having your way with me?" 

"You're still in too much pain." 

"I'll take a pill!" 

"What?" 

"Sure! The 'nightingale' gave me something whipped up here in Section. Absolutely no side-effects: I could stick bamboo shoots under fingernails, handle electrical leads, swung a mean sap! I could even drive the mission van! Just give me half a moment!" 

He disappeared into his bedroom. Exx's eyes caressed his tight buttocks lasciviously and she rubbed her fingertips together. Wye returned with his trousers dangling from one hand while the other dug into a pocket. 

Triumphantly, he pulled out a vial filled with small blue caplets, and met her gaze. His mouth went dry. He shook out two pills and swallowed them wrong, nearly choking. 

Exx handed him a glass of water and he gratefully gulped it down. 

"Now." He had to clear his throat. Heat was rising up in his body and a drop of perspiration lazily trickled down from his temple. Exx reached up and caught it on a fingertip. Wye watched dazedly, mesmerized by the sight. She stroked her finger over her lips and licked the salty moisture from them. Wye had to breathe through his mouth. "These pills should be working any time now. Or not. Doesn't matter! All I know is I have to get inside you! Fast!" 

Exx slanted a look at him from under her thick lashes. "Think so, cowboy?" She sauntered out of the bathroom, a taunting swing to her hips. Pausing in the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a tantalizing smile. 

Wye stood as if paralyzed. 

Until she pursed her lips and sent him a  kiss. 

Then he bounded after her. 

Exx was unfastening the cuffs of her shirt, her skirt already pooled at her feet. Wye dropped to his knees before her, his arms around her hips and his head against her abdomen. 

His thumbs eased into the waistband of her black half slip and pushed it down along with the scrap of black satin she wore under it, pressing kisses in their wake. He nuzzled the blond curls that shielded her femininity. She stood before him clad only in the sheer thigh highs she had taken to wearing after the mission that had  resulted in Michael getting his Kita back. 

Wye uttered a hum of approval and brushed his fingers through the folds hidden by her curls, finding the small bundle of nerves and pressing against it. He dipped his head and stroked her with his tongue. Exx uttered a strangled gasp and sagged against his educated mouth, trying to avoid draping herself all over his scored back, giving him excellent access to her. 

Her legs spread wide by Wye's knees, trembling from the sensory overload, Exx felt herself sliding through his embrace. He leaned back and guided her onto his rampant arousal, entering her easily. "Brace yourself!" he whispered gutturally as he held her hips. She let herself fall away from him and reached over her head to balance herself above the floor, thrusting her breasts upward. 

Wye remained on his knees, undulating his hips as he drove himself deep into her, driving them both into the fire. One hand supported her back while the other sought her breasts, kneading and squeezing, plucking the nipples to puckered points. 

Exx thrust back fiercely against her lover, caressing his length with strong inner muscles. And then his mouth seized a turgid nipple, sucking rapaciously, and she found herself going up in flames. 

The heat of her climax rebounded to the hard flesh buried deep inside  her and Wye flung himself into the conflagration after her. 

For long minutes, the silence of the room was broken by their ragged panting. When Exx would have eased away from her counterpart, his hands tightened on her hips. "Stay with me!" he demanded, wanting to remain joined to her for as long as possible. He pulled her supine body up onto his thighs, placing her arms around his neck. 

"I'll let you give the orders, cowboy, but just this once! Don't get used to it!" 

Wye muffled a laugh. "That makes the whole experience at Three worth it!" 

Gently she lowered her arms to encircle his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his. "No," she said softly. “Nothing makes that worthwhile. Have you any idea how frightened I was that it would be too late, that I would not get to you in time?" 

Wye was amazed to feel the tremors running through her. "You, frightened, Exx? I never doubted you!" 

"You were that sure?" 

He smiled into her hair. "As you said, you're Exx. Only a fool would cross you! 

"And yes, I was that sure!" 

Part 11 

Wye woke in his bed. 

Alone. 

For a panicked moment he thought he had dreamed the whole interlude with his mentor. 

Then he caught the lingering scent of almonds on his sheets, on his pillow. On his skin. And breathed a sigh of relief. She had been with him. 

Images came flooding back. He had been too exhausted to object when sometime during the night she had murmured that they both needed to get some rest. She had left, leaving him to sink into a deep sleep, thankfully devoid of dreams. 

Feeling more rested than he had since before his ill-fated trip to Three, he rolled contentedly onto his back, then hissed at the sudden pain. The effects of the pill he had taken earlier had obviously worn off. Reluctantly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, waiting for the unexpected wave of dizziness to dissipate. 

He padded, naked, into the bathroom and swallowed another pill. The haggard reflection cast back by the mirror made him wince. He needed a shave. And his mouth tasted as if a herd of yak had taken up residence there. 

A fine tremor shook his hands, and he decided to leave shaving for later, after he had eaten something. He brushed his teeth and went to see if there was anything edible in his kitchen. 

Expecting to find maybe a desiccated carrot and some forgotten dinner, long since unidentifiable and on the point of being able to supply mold to MedLab, he was pleasantly surprised. 

Someone must have twisted Christopher's arm, for the head of Dietary had supplied numerous containers of microwaveable meals. Selecting one at random, he set the timer and waited impatiently for it to be ready. 

A muted tap on his door had his head snapping up, his eyes glowing and his skin flushing with excitement. Exx! 

He hurried to the door and threw it open. "Come in!" he said huskily. 

And then blanched. 

It was not his mentor at the door. 

Acutely aware of his unclothed state, he searched wildly for something to  shield his marked and naked body. Bolting for the sanctuary of his bedroom, he wrestled into a pair of trousers crumpled in a corner. 

Buttoning his shirt, he walked back into the living room. "Excuse me, Madeline. I was not expecting you to visit me in my quarters." 

"Obviously." She took a seat and casually crossed her elegant legs. 

"Ma'am..." 

She waved aside his apologies. "Actually, Wye, I'm here to ask for your forgiveness. As Exx has made it abundantly, and quite vehemently clear, you should not have been placed in a situation that I knew was almost certain to put your safety in jeopardy. My only excuse is that as head of Section One, I cannot let Exx be subject to capture or detainment by any organization. This includes other Sections as well." 

"Madeline, if it comes to a choice of my life or Exx's, as far as I am concerned, there is no choice. I will obey any orders to keep her alive." 

The psych operative found that statement very interesting: Exx would only obey orders to stay out of MedLab when Wye was threatened with cancellation;  Wye was willing to do anything to protect his mentor. Madeline would definitely have to remember this bit of intel. 

"Nevertheless, I should have had more faith in my senior interrogator. I was most impressed with her handling of the matter with Three." 

A soft smile curled the male interrogation operative's mouth. "Yes, she really is something special, isn't she?" 

"What exactly did she do down there?" Madeline wanted to know. 

"Didn't Three's housekeeping inform you?" 

"Actually, a major shake-up is going on at Three. Prime has a gag order on all intel regarding that incident. He's demanding an investigation into the entire matter, and he wants to know how Uno got such an influential position, especially considering his young age. I understand George is holding himself incommunicado.” Her smile was nothing short of evil. 

"There may be a promotion in this for you, Wye,” she continued. “Keep that in mind. I'll leave you to your meal, now." Madeline gave him a tight nod and rose gracefully to her feet. "Again, I'm sorry you were hurt, and if you ever need to talk of your experiences in Three, you may come to me at any time." 

She had given him too much to think of. All he wanted was to get Madeline out of his quarters. He ushered her to his door and breathed a sigh of relief as it shut behind her. 

Retreating to the kitchen, he pulled his by now cooling dinner out of the microwave and sighed. He replaced it and keyed in an additional two minutes. It would be like eating a combination of rubber  and cardboard, but he had gone hungry too many times in his younger years to be comfortable wasting food now. 

When the timer pinged, he withdrew it again and stolidly plied his fork and knife. 

As he ate, Madeline's words keep impinging on his mind. '...a promotion for you.'  Where? Here in Section? In Three? He wished the psych op would have told him, or that he had thought to ask her. The food sat like lead in his stomach, and he began to feel queasy. 

Wye pushed himself away from the table and strode into the living room. He picked up his comm unit and punched in Exx's access code. After three rings, he heard her voice. 

"Exx...!" 

And then he realized it was her machine. "...I'm not here right now. But then, neither are you. Maybe if you were, I would be too! Talk to me!" 

Wye was startled by the almost flirtatious tone of her message. Then it sank in that she wasn't in her quarters. He decided to call comm and see if Birkoff knew where she was. 

"Birkoff, it's Wye." 

"Aw, geez man, what do you want from me this time?" If the head of comm was testy, it was because the Torture Twins never called to just shoot the breeze. In the unlikely event that  they contacted anyone, it was a sure bet that someone, somewhere was going to be in a world of hurt. 

Wye cleared his throat. "I just need to know where Exx is. I tried her quarters but all I got was her machine." 

"That's because she's not there. And you can't contact her now." 

"Then you know where she is?" 

"Yeah.'' 

"Birkoff...!" 

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to make it difficult for you. Things are a little hairy down here right now and I'm working three computers and a sim!" 

"I won't take up any more of your time then. If you'll just tell me where I can find her?" 

"Sorry, Wye. I thought you knew. She's in the White Room!" 

Part 12 

Birkoff didn't realize anything was amiss until a large hand closed around his collar and dragged him across his desk, knocking his keyboard aside and toppling the monitor. 

His windpipe severely compressed, the head of comm was starting to turn an intriguing shade of blue. He clawed desperately at the fingers around his throat, strangled gasps and whimpers  were choked out. Blood thundered in his ears, blocking out all other sound and pinwheels of colored light flashed behind his eyelids. 

And then suddenly he was free and able to breathe once more. He staggered and collapsed back into a chair and wiped his eyes. "What...?" he managed to croak. 

Michael stood between the two men, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You want to explain this?" he asked in his soft voice. No one doubted that he was extremely displeased by what he had interrupted. 

Birkoff was unable to force anything past his abused vocal cords. He massaged his Adam’s apple and concentrated on getting his breathing back under control. 

The level 5 op turned his cold green stare on the interrogations operative who stood impotently clenching and unclenching his fists. "Wye?" The force of his will battered at the distraught male before him. 

"He told me Exx is in the White Room!" Wye grated out. "He sounded as if that was the most inconsequential matter here in Section! Step aside, Michael; he's been part of this organization for too long! I'm going to kill him!" 

Wye lunged forward and Birkoff ducked behind Michael. "But it's true, Michael! Exx is in the White Room! Am I supposed to lie about that? Just because Wye is on sick leave, doesn't mean Exx is on vacation!" 

"What?" Wye was starting to feel dizzy again. 

"Madeline was in your quarters before.” Now Birkoff was getting confused. “Didn’t she say anything about that munitions operative from Three that Davenport tagged?" 

"What?" 

Michael permitted a small smile to tug at his lips. "Apparently not. Emma Gatling was Uno’s plant in Three’s weapons division. She was the one who rigged the vents so they would  flood The Stage with carbon monoxide. Madeline asked Prime, very nicely of course, if Section could question her. He refused, so she sent Davenport in to ‘liberate’ her.” 

“I think he enjoyed that just a little too much,” Birkoff grumbled, patently unhappy about the mini mission his friend had completed without informing him. He couldn’t decide who he was more annoyed with: Davenport for having such a grand time infiltrating Three, with all its gorgeous operatives, or Madeline for assigning him the task. 

Michael ignored the comm operative. “And now Exx is having a friendly little chat with the unlucky woman.” 

"Exx is working?” Wye was outraged. All other matters were extraneous. That his mentor was back on full duty after being so seriously ill infuriated him. 

"Yes," Michael answered simply. 

Wye stood before the two men, his glare bouncing from one to the other. Then he turned sharply on his heel and left comm. 

“He doesn’t know her very well, does he?” Michael murmured to himself. 

"Thanks, Michael. I thought for a second there that I was a dead man!" Birkoff told the cold op as he straightened his glasses. 

"You very nearly were. What was that all about?" 

"He called me when he couldn't find Exx and I told him she was in the White Room," Birkoff tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, but he was still severely shaken. "I guess he was going to kill the messenger." 

"Did you tell him she was working?" 

Birkoff tried to recall his exact words. Things had been so hectic in comm. "I don't know; I can't remember." 

"Well, if *he thought she was being questioned, he would not be too happy with any of us!" 

Birkoff's eyes threatened to pop. "You mean he...he has...he's got..." 

For once Michael didn't try to conceal the black humor he found in the situation. "Yes, Birkoff. He has." 

"For Exx? But she's deadly!" 

Michael shrugged. "So is the coral snake and the black mamba. That doesn't stop them from having mates!" He looked around. "Have you seen Nikita?" 

The head of comm absently waved him off in the direction of the lifts. He watched as Michael's jaunty strut carried him out of his department.  Birkoff considered what the cold op had told him as he righted his work station. 

Exx and Wye, a couple, as in romance? And not just a working partnership? 

No. It was not his concern. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he returned to accessing intel. 

Still... 

The mind boggled!

**** 

Wye reached the White Room just as housekeeping arrived from the other direction, armed with the biohazardous waste container and a medium-sized body bag. 

"Wye!" The older of the pair was obviously surprised to see him outside the Room. "Weren’t you assisting Exx?" he asked hopefully. His face fell when Wye shook his head. "I'm really sorry to hear that. Well, cherie," he addressed his trainee, " this is what we had to contend with before Wye came along. Brace yourself!" He rapped briskly on the door. 

Exx's appearance at the entrance to the White Room was blocked from Wye's view by the door. "Guillaume, nice to work with you again.  This is your new trainee? Quel dommage.” Too bad, indeed. Recruits seldom expected what the White Room revealed, especially after Exx was done working in there.  “This was a messy one." The head torture op shook her head sadly, then ruined it with a satisfied smile. "She just couldn't see the error of her ways!"  She stepped around the door and spotted Wye. He stood there, his jaw sagging as he got a good look at her. 

Over her usual somber black was what had originally been  a white lab coat. Now it was streaked with red. She was splattered from head to toe with a shocking amount of gore. If Wye hadn't known better from first hand experience, he would have thought it more blood than the human body could hold. 

Exx smiled at him tiredly. “Busy, busy,” she said and wiped a finger across her glasses; even the lenses had blood spatter on them. "I want to get out of these clothes and then get a bite to eat. Come along;  I need some company.” 

From behind them came the sound of the housekeeping trainee violently retching. "You could have given her a little time to get used to Section before you got up to your old tricks again!" Guillaume called after Exx. 

Exx chuckled. A couple of passing operatives suddenly remembered someplace else they needed to be and faded out of sight. 

The couple took a lift to the operatives' quarters, silence cloaking them like a shroud. Exx was pleased with the outcome of the interrogation. 

Wye was seething. 

Part 13 

Exx let them into her quarters, either impervious or oblivious to Wye’s fragile grip on his emotions. She flicked on the light switch and gestured him toward her kitchenette. “Help yourself to anything you want.” 

Not, perhaps, the wisest choice of words. 

Exx went into her bedroom, fastidiously removing the lab coat and holding it between thumb and forefinger. She let it slither into a waste basket, intending to have the janitorial department dispose of it later, after she had washed the stench of blood and fear from her person. 

Emma Gatling had been too stubborn to reveal the extent of her participation in the plot to destroy Prime and turn the reins of Section Three over to Uno, but in the end, her terror of the exquisite tortures Exx was inflicting on her broke her will. 

And the Section Three munitions operative divulged everything, not only about Uno’s plans but also about every transgression in her pitiful life, in a desperate bid to be spared. 

Of course, by that time it was much too late; her life was past saving. Her condition was incompatible with living. 

The premier torture operative of Section did love her work! 

Exx efficiently stripped off her clothes, not really surprised to see that Wye had followed her into her bedroom. What disturbed  her, though, was the wild glitter in his eyes. “Wye, what’s wrong?” 

“You had to question her?” Her nude body called to him, but he squelched his automatic response to it.

“Of course. That’s my job.” She couldn’t understand what had him so upset.

And then she thought she could, and she was not pleased with the notion that intruded upon her consciousness. She pulled on her velour robe, to armor herself as much against the chill as against the emotional vortex that swirled around her counterpart. 

“What was she to you, Wye? You were in Three, how long? almost a week before Uno decided to use more persuasive methods to get you to summon me? That’s a long time to go without sex. Especially for someone with a drive as strong as yours!” 

Her attack left Wye nonplused. “Quoi?” 

“Don’t give me that blank look! I might have to put up with that when I deal with Michael, but you’re my trainee, goddammit!! You slept with the bitch, didn’t you? That’s what got your shorts in a twist! I sent your lover to the cleaners!” By this time Exx was so wild with rage she was almost frothing at the mouth. “You bastard! You son of a bitch! You mother....” 

Her tirade was cut short by Wye’s mouth. His lips came down on hers so hard that the coppery taste of blood flooded her tongue. Long fingers wound in her hair, jerking her head back, giving him better access to the mouth that had hurled such abuse at him. His arms kept hers imprisoned, her lower body pressed so firmly against his to prevent her from kneeing him. He knew, furious as she was, she would not hesitate to unman him. 

And he was not foolish enough to thrust his tongue into her mouth. 

“Oh, my sweet lady, don’t you know I worried for you?” he whispered in her ear, then explored its curves with a warm tongue. She grew suddenly still. “I never met that woman. And I certainly never took her as a lover!” 

Exx managed to lever herself  away from him enough to get a good view of his face. “Huh?” she said inelegantly. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the haze from her brain. “If you didn’t sleep with her, then what are you angry about?” 

He gave her a shake. “How long has it been since you left MedLab? Do you realize you nearly died there?  Then you had to come to Three to rescue me. And then you questioned the weapons operative! You could have had a relapse! You could have died! And I would have lost you! Do you think I would have stayed, without you?” 

Wye’s legs began to give out from under him, and his mentor managed to get him to her bed before he collapsed. “That works both ways, cowboy,” she said softly as she ran her fingers over his face and hair. “I very nearly lost you. And if I had...” She killed the thought, and rose to her feet. “You’re more of a convalescent than I am. There’s nothing like a little work to get me back on my feet!  Now stay put. I’ll fix you something to eat as soon as I’ve showered.” 

The emotional whirlwind had taken more of a toll than Wye had anticipated. Exx’s bed seemed to envelope him like welcoming arms and he drifted into a drowsy state between wakefulness and slumber. Although something Exx said gnawed at him, he was too exhausted to think about it. 

Minutes or hours might have passed. Soft kisses trailed up his jaw and cheek to his eyelids. “C’mon, cowboy. It’s time to get some food into you.” 

Wye opened a cautious eye. That was it! Exx had promised to cook for him. Or threatened to cook for him. She no longer looked angry enough to cancel him. Maybe they were going to the commissary? he thought hopefully.

But Exx, once again clothed in her basic, Section black, was easing him up and herding him toward her tiny kitchen. Her microwave hummed in its corner, busily heating up whatever she was preparing to serve him. 

Wye ran both hands through his hair and sat at the small table, set for two. Were they going to play Romeo and Juliet, and die together? No, Exx did not strike him as the type for useless, romantic gestures. He swallowed hard and looked at his lover with desolate eyes. 

Exx met his gaze, this time exasperated. “What’s going through the mush that passes for your brain now?” she demanded. 

Wye started to speak and found he had to clear his throat. He tried again. “You’re cooking for me.” 

“Yes. Your point is...?” 

“Are you planning to cancel me?” 

“Cancel you????” Exx’s voice rose. She took deep breaths to calm herself. “You know, I can never figure out how men’s minds work. After I went to all that trouble to get you back to Section in one piece...! I got a charley horse from kicking Uno! And do you know how long it took me to work up that recipe for maple-oatmeal-raisin-chocolate chip cookies? Have you any idea how hard it is to get tiger’s whiskers at this time of year? Not to mention the beasts are on the endangered species list?” 

“Not that you would have let that stop you!” Wye murmured fondly. 

“Well, no.” She pulled up short. “Your life was at stake. I would have hunted one down myself if it came to that.” 

“Vraiment?” 

She sighed. “Yes, truly. You still don’t realize how valuable you are to me, do you? Wye, I’ll take down Section before I let anything happen to you.” 

Wye’s mouth dropped open and warm color flooded his cheeks. “Really? But... the food?” 

Exx pulled the containers out of the microwave. “This is what’s left of the meals Christopher sent to me.” 

Wye was aware of how temperamental the head of Dietary could be. His eyes narrowed. “Should I be jealous?” 

“Oh, good God, no!” Exx laughed, then suddenly stopped, appalled. She never laughed: it was against Section’s policy for their interrogation team! She’d have to watch herself. “Ummm, what was I saying?” 

“You were about to tell me why I shouldn’t be jealous of Christopher.” 

“Oh. Yes. Well, actually, Christopher was the one who put whatever it was that made me so sick into my food.”

Wye surged to his feet. “Son of a bitch bastard!” he exploded. “I’ll cancel him. With extreme prejudice!” 

Exx caught his arm before he could untangle himself from his chair. “No, cowboy, it’s okay. That’s just Section.” She hugged him briefly, savoring the feel of his body under her hands. “Sit down and enjoy some of this. I think it’s supposed to be boeuf bourgonionne.” 

Broodingly, the male operative took his seat. “I’m surprised you’re letting him get off so lightly.” 

His counterpart looked up at him through the fringe of blond hair that fell into her eyes. She took a portion of noodles, idly twirling them around the tines of her fork. “Now Wye,  I never said anything about letting him off.” She smiled coquettishly at him. Under the table her stocking-clad foot slid under his trouser leg and tip-toed up his calf. 

The look he turned on her was hot and rakish. “I’m in.” 

She felt herself grow warm. “But you don’t know what I plan to do.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, whatever you do, I’m your man!” 

Part 14 

Madeline looked across her desk at Operations. In the space of five minutes he had shifted his position in the chair no less the ten times. “Paul, what is wrong with you?” 

To her surprise, a dull flush crept up Operations’ cheeks. “Nothing, Madeline. Er...Nothing.” For such an astute woman, it never failed to amaze her former lover how selectively blind she could be. 

“Perhaps you should see someone in Medlab.” 

“Umm, I’m sure that’s not necessary.” Anticipating that she would continue to worry it like a dog would a bone, Operations took the path of least resistance. “But of course I’ll follow your suggestion.” 

Madeline smile complacently. “Excellent. Now, the reason I called you here.” 

Finally! They were getting down to the nitty gritty. Operations sat up attentively, and winced. 

“I’ve uncovered a rather interesting bit of intel concerning our primary interrogation team.” 

“The torture twins? Aside from taking a somewhat perverse delight in inflicting  high degrees of pain, they’re a rather nondescript couple.” 

“Their ‘perverse delight’ as you call it is a highly invaluable commodity to Section. Exx alone was  unbelievable, but Exx and Wye working together are synergistic. Our extraction rate in the last six months has almost tripled! It has become nothing short of phenomenal! George is most pleased! 

“However, we may have a problem.” 

Operations looked confused. “I’m sorry, I caught a late flight in and I must still be a trifle jet-lagged. What could possibly be the problem?” 

“What you said, Paul,” Madeline retorted sharply, becoming exasperated with him. “Somehow, they have become a couple.” 

Color fled from his cheeks. “What am I expected to do about this, Madeline?” he asked, the light meal he had consumed on the jet suddenly threatening to make a reappearance. 

The psych operative’s elegantly shod foot tapped out an irritated tattoo. “I want your input on this, Paul. Nothing more, at this point. You saw how trying to interfere with Michael and Nikita’s relationship resulted in a major fiasco. Section One as a whole barely escaped cancellation! We need to consider how letting our torture operatives remain together will impact Section.” 

“Exx has been involved with a number of other members of her department. Some we’ve requested her to cancel, some she’s canceled on her own. Remember the senior interrogator she came in under? Why should this situation be any different?” 

“Are you suggesting we order her to cancel her trainee?” Madeline paused to give this some thought. “Yes, that might be the solution. The ultimate solution. For now, ...hmm, I don’t know. What do you think, Paul?” 

Operations regarded Madeline with tired blue eyes. “Doesn’t it ever get old, Madeline?” he asked wearily. “Don’t you ever get tired of playing God?” 

Madeline’s lips tightened to a thin line. “I never play, Paul.” 

He rose stiffly. “If that was all you wanted to speak to me about...?” 

“Yes, yes,  you can go. Oh, and Paul, you might want to look into increasing the amount of fiber in your diet!” 

Operations bit back a sharp rejoinder and yanked the door open. He closed it very gently behind him, however, and Madeline laughed softly. More than anything he had wanted to slam it shut so hard it bounced back on its hinges. She could still read him well. 

She stood abruptly and walked to a credenza where some of her more exotic orchids were kept. A dead leaf pinched off here, a shoot cut back there. Her hands wandered over the foliage, stroking it almost as if it were a lover, while her agile brain considered the ramifications of this latest situation. 

With a small sigh, Madeline turned away from the soothing task Time would tell if any action needed to be taken. She picked up a panel containing the profile of the current mission that was on deck. She’d send Davenport out as lead and allow him to choose his own team. It was time the level 3 operative got a taste of command. 

This might also be a good time to weed out some of the slackers in abeyance. 

She smiled. It was good to be head of Section. 

**** 

Wye was resting comfortably in bed. In Exx’s bed. 

In Exx’s body. 

His hand smoothed down the curve of  her hip,  reaching around to palm the swell of her derriere. Tracing the shadowed cleft between her buttocks, Wye’s fingertips followed the fold of her thigh to the point where they were still joined, touching them both. 

She moaned with pleasure and arched up into his hold. 

“It’s never been like this for me!” he admitted as he searched for new ways to pleasure her. 

“Nor for me,” she told him breathlessly. 

“But you’ve had many lovers.” 

“More than you’ve had? Oh, that makes me feel positively wanton!” 

He reached for her hand and held it before her, gently folding back the fingers until only one was remaining erect. “This is all I’ve had,” he told her, and he leaned down to draw a sensuous line over her lips with his tongue. 

“You mean, I’m only the second woman you’ve ever made love to? Oh, I find that very hard to believe, a sex pistol like you!” She was getting nervous. This conversation had become entirely too serious. 

“No. That other place was not conducive to forming any kind of relationship. And...I told you what had happened to me when I was a boy. I could never bear to have anyone touch me, in any way at all.” 

“But...Correct me if I’m wrong, Wye. It *was* you who had me flat on my back in the ward room a month or so ago, wasn’t it? That wasn’t a figment of my imagination? And it *was* you who made love to me until my eyes crossed? No man loves a woman like that without some previous experience!” 

Wye propped himself up on his elbows and gazed into her blue eyes. “Now that’s a chauvinistic remark if ever I heard one!” He settled his head next to hers, rubbing his stubbled cheek along her jaw and throat and then down to her breast. 

“You’re going to mark me!” she whispered hoarsely. It was not a complaint. 

“That’s my intention, ma’am!” His arms closed fiercely around her and suddenly he was hard enough to slide into her slick channel once again, rocking against her, causing lightening to flare along  her nerve endings. 

“I *can’t* be your first lover!” she groaned. “You’re too good at this!” 

“Thank you, sweet lady.” He kissed her fiercely, his tongue mimicking the action of his lower body.  “If I say you’ve inspired me, would that put your mind at ease?” 

Exx’s knees were high around his waist, gripping him as if he was her steed. Her passionate, high-blooded stallion. “Ride me, cowboy!” she ordered, her fingertips skimming him, careful even in her passion not to re-injure his back. “Ride me to the stars!” 

He growled in her ear, “You’re going to get ridden hard and put away wet!” 

The words and the image send her spinning out of control, and the world fell away. But she wasn’t alone. The spasms of her climax stroked the arousal buried deep within her, pulling him after her. 

His strong arms held her safe; her body held him sure. 

They lay there silently for a long time. Then, “I read a lot,” he said. “I was curious about what men did with women, and  pulp romances were the only types of books available. They were smuggled in, and the women hoarded them. That was the only brightness in their dark lives. So I read them too, and I fantasized. 

“And when I met you, it was all I could do not to strip naked in front of Operations and all of Section and have you right then!” 

“Oh, my!” 

Wye covered her mouth gently to prevent her from speaking and  hurried on. “I know you can order me canceled at anytime, for any reason. You’re the head of interrogations, you can do whatever you want! But I need you to know that it doesn’t matter. I’m yours for however long you will keep me. And I will never, of my own accord,  leave you!” He took his hand away and tried to prepare himself for the blistering set down he was sure would come. Who was he, after all? Merely a trainee. 

Exx drew in  a deep breath. Courage like that needed to be acknowledged. “I once overheard Davenport say something quite...profound, for him. He said... it’s easy to be brave when only your life is on the line, when it’s just a question of whether you live or die. When it’s your emotions, though, your heart...” She let the words hang on the air. “I can’t promise you anything. What you see here, in these quarters, in interrogations, that’s just the facade of control. I have as little as you. However, for as long as Section allows us, I will keep you by my side.” 

“That’s all I ask for.” 

“There is one more thing. I cannot give you very much, but I want you to have this. If the day should come when I am ordered to cancel you, I will not obey those orders. And if another operative gets to you before I can prevent it, I will cancel whoever that is. And that operative will be a long, a *very* long time in dying.” 

“I’m...I-I don’t know what to say.” 

“There’s nothing to say.” Her eyes were reflective on his. “Consider this: why does the sperm whale, the largest mammal on earth, have a throat the size of a man’s fist?” 

Wye shook his head, perplexed, at a loss over the sudden change of topic. 

Exx took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth softly. “That’s just the way it is!”

On to Part B