"We only have about an hour left..."
"I know..."
"Oh, God..."
Birkoff curled up on his side, his hands restlessly seeking Declan’s warmth. He felt cold inside. Like he would never be able to get warm again.
They lay together on their bed. For what would probably be the last time. But they didn’t make love. Neither of them wanted to lose sight of the mission or what it might mean to both of them.
"Declan?"
"Aye, love?"
"Promise me something..."
"If I can, acushla."
"Promise me...you won’t let Emmy...forget me." Birkoff choked on the tears he didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. A long, long time. He wanted to watch Emmy grow up. Go to school. Get married.
Declan stared at him, his heart aching. He didn’t want to contemplate Birkoff not coming back. Not living the rest of his life with him. He didn’t want to promise something like that. It was like giving his lover permission not to fight back as hard as he could.
"I don’t want you to give up that easy, baby. You have to want to come back here."
"I do," Birkoff sniffed. He wrapped his arms around Declan’s neck, his fingers threading restlessly through Declan’s long red hair. His dark eyes met his lover’s. "I love you."
Their mouths met. Softly, tenderly. Fingers stroking cheeks. Whispered pleas. "Please don’t forget me."
Birkoff’s eyes filled with the last tears he would allow himself to cry. He lay his head on Declan’s shoulder, his fingers playing with a long curling tendril of Declan’s hair. "I never thought it would be me leaving you, Dec. I always assumed it would be the other way around."
"No one’s leaving anyone, love. We’ll always be together."
Birkoff smiled sadly, the smile never reaching his eyes. "Always and forever?"
"Always and forever."
***
If Declan never expected to be the one left behind, he had a counterpart in Nikita. The rest of the family had scattered to other rooms in the house. The mission clock was ticking. Everyone was aware of what it might mean. No one wanted to voice their fear out loud.
The living room was quite empty now. Except for two people. Michael held Nikita in his arms. They lay together on the couch, their eyes seeing no one but their own reflections, their ears hearing no one but their own murmurs.
It would have been sacrilege to speak too loudly. Instead, they conversed in the occasional whisper, the very air surrounding them pregnant with swirling emotion.
Michael absently caressed Nikita’s shoulders with both hands, apparently finding solace in the repetitive movement. Nikita lay perfectly still, content to spend what might be their last moments together in Michael’s embrace.
"Kita..."
"Mm?"
"If you don’t hear from me by--"
"Michael, please." She closed her eyes, as if that would be enough to shut out the pain.
Michael drew a shaky breath, his fingertips barely touching the nape of her neck. "Doucette..."
He began again, this time forcing the words past numb lips. "The bankbooks are in a secret compartment in our bedroom closet. I’m sure you’ll find them. The deeds to this house and the chateau are in a safe deposit box in Lucerne. The key is in your jewelry box, disguised as a charm on the bracelet I gave you for our anniversary..." The words went on, but Nikita didn’t even know when she stopped registering them.
Tears slid slowly down her cheeks. This was no time for impassioned pleas to stay or heartfelt sobbing. Michael was giving her instructions for how to carry on after his death. It was so hard to imagine life without him, she couldn’t do it. "You’re not coming back." It wasn’t a question.
"I want to." His hands sought her face, but she could not move away fast enough. He felt the tears. Breathing became an exercise in pain. His chest ached with grief he could not express.
"You won’t reconsider taking Declan?" she asked wistfully.
"No," he answered, the word a mere thread of sound.
"Michael, if you’re so certain you won’t make it back...why even go?" She knew it sounded callous, but this was her life she was fighting for.
"Ki-ta...I can’t leave Connor out there alone. What kind of man would I be then?"
"So it’s better for all of you to die out there? Do you know what losing Birkoff will mean to Declan? What losing you will mean to me?"
"We have to try, Kita. You taught me that. Connor deserves that chance."
Nikita gave in to the sobs that were threatening to choke her very being. Michael pulled her long pale hair off her neck and buried his face against her nape. "I love you, doucette. Don’t send me out there without your support."
She pulled his arms around her, as if she could not bear to let go. "I wish I could keep you here with me..."
Michael shuddered, his own emotions dangerously close to eluding his control.
"But I know that I can’t."
Michael breathed a sigh of relief at her apparent resignation to the reality of what they faced.
***
When the time came for parting, it was not easy on anyone. Whether they were amongst those going or those staying behind, they all faced the possibility of losing their lives. Life was never going to be the same.
Birkoff pulled his long dark hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a leather thong. His bittersweet chocolate eyes were dry and clear, all traces of tears carefully removed. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from touching Declan one more time.
"Well, looks like we’re ready to go," he said off-handedly.
Declan replied tersely, "Yeah."
"I was going to set up a comlink channel so I could talk to you, but I’m sure we’re going to be much too busy anyway, and--" Birkoff chattered.
"Sey..." Declan whispered hoarsely. "You talk too damn much."
Birkoff dropped his bag and stared at Declan. He wanted to stay so badly, it was a physical ache.
"C’mere." It was a whisper, but everyone in the room heard it.
Birkoff shook his head. He was hanging onto his control by a thread. He wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself in front of the rest of the family. Declan’s silvery eyes gleamed in silent entreaty.
He took a step towards Declan, almost involuntarily, and Declan made up the rest of the distance. Declan leaned his forehead on his lover’s, struggling with the very real urge to kiss him fervently, in front of God and everyone else. Searching desperately for something that would tell him how he felt, without embarrassing either of them, Declan suddenly knew what to say.
"Kieran..." It was the first time Declan called him that outside of private moments. "Ta gra agam duit."
Birkoff almost smiled. I love you. In Gaelic. He hadn’t forgotten.
"Come back to me, y chree. I’ll be waiting." Declan forced himself to breathe.
"Take good care of Emmy for me." Birkoff couldn’t take his eyes off Declan.
Declan picked up Emmy and held her. "Wave goodbye to Daddy, Princess Em." Declan knew he couldn’t take much more before he broke down. He couldn’t wait to be alone with the pain that seemed to take up residence in every part of his body.
Birkoff leaned over to kiss his daughter, resisting the desire to kiss Declan as well. "Bye, sweetie."
"Where’s Daddy going, Da?" Emmy didn’t understand. First, Connor disappeared with the bad man. Now this.
Birkoff didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Neither could Declan. Birkoff turned and walked away before he could change his mind.
Michael watched the interplay of emotions on Nikita’s face. Compassion warred with grief, and grief seemed to be winning. "Doucette...remember what I told you."
About what, Michael? About how much you love me? Or about how well you’ve provided for your family? After you’re gone?
When Nikita didn’t answer right away, Michael knew she was very upset. Not one to keep her emotions under tight rein, Nikita usually managed to say exactly what she felt. Unless it was something she cared so deeply about, she couldn’t even verbalize it.
There was a sadness in her he had never seen before. It went beyond mere acceptance that he might die. She was giving up on him. On them.
Aghast that he might have pushed her into this, Michael fought back the only way he knew how. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her as if his life depended on it. It did. He’d be damned if he was going to let her give up on him, on them.
He would make certain that he came back to her. If only to prove to her that he was worth more alive than dead.
Well, hell, she knew that. She smiled, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. She just wanted to make sure he did, too.
"I love you."
"I know."
The moment Michael disappeared through the front door, Nikita went into action. Walter stared at her incredulously. "What are you doing, Sugar?"
"What does it look like I’m doing, Dad?" she said a bit curtly, afraid that if her adoptive father questioned her too closely, she would lose her nerve. It had taken a lot of soulsearching to make her decision. But make it she had.
"It looks like you’re packing to go somewhere. Tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing."
He stood in front of her, his hands grabbing the duffel bag away from her. "Sugar..."
She sighed, raking a hand through her long blonde hair. "You can’t stop me, Dad."
"Sugar...Michael wouldn’t want this. You know he wouldn’t."
To his surprise, she agreed. "You’re right, Dad. But I have to do this. I can’t live with myself if I don’t."
He gave her back the duffel bag. Nikita was an entity unto herself. Only Michael had a hope of understanding her. And he didn’t claim 100 percent accuracy.
"Dad, I don’t expect you to help me, but I’ll settle for you not stopping me."
"That’s not the way I am, and you know it, Sugar. What do you need?"
"Can you give me the same inventory you gave Michael?" she asked as she zipped up the duffel bag.
"Times 2," said the voice behind her.
She whirled, not sure what she was expecting. Declan stood there, clad in black leather, his eyes moist. "Declan! You don’t have to do this!"
He blinked inscrutably, and Nikita was immediately reminded of Michael. "Aye, I do. Wherever you go, I go. If something happened to you..."
"Michael would understand, Declan."
Declan shook his head furiously. "No, he wouldn’t, and we both know it."
"I have a bit invested in this as well, y’know." Declan picked up the duffel bag Nikita had packed. "Besides, with both of us watching their backs, their chances of coming back just went up."
Nikita stared at Declan gratefully before grabbing the younger man and hugging him as tightly as she could.
Walter muttered under his breath for several moments before growling, "Dammit, Sugar, I hate to be the rain on your parade, but who’s gonna be watching the kids?" What he didn’t say was, and who’s going to explain to them, if both sets of parents go missing?
Nikita sniffled, stifling a sob that rose in her throat. "Dad, I hate to put you in this position, but...if you and Miranda could take everyone to the chateau.... You’d be much safer there, it’s like a fortress."
She waited impatiently for him to reply. His face was so conflicted. It was obvious that he didn’t want to go against Michael’s wishes, but he could see the advantages of Nikita and Declan backing up Michael and Birkoff. The odds in their favor would improve dramatically.
Walter exhaled a longsuffering breath, his face finally clearing. "Okay....I’ll do it...on one condition."
Nikita looked expectantly at Walter. "Anything."
"That you promise not to do anything stupid."
Nikita laughed shortly. "Dad, I think you know I’m not capable of keeping that promise. Ask Michael."
Walter’s eyes narrowed. "Then you better bring all your sorry asses back here when it’s over."
"Agreed," said Declan, his hand on the back of Nikita’s neck. The gesture, so familiar, so like Michael, caught her by surprise, and she half-expected to see Michael standing there when she turned.
When they were ready to go, Walter handed the keys to his beloved Harley to Nikita. Pressing the keys within her hand, he said, "Take good care of her, Sugar."
"But Dad, I thought we’d take Declan’s car." She glanced at Declan, who nodded.
Walter shrugged. "Suit yourself, but the Harley’s faster. And you did say, time was of the essence."
Nikita glanced helplessly at Declan. "I don’t think I’ve ever ridden a motorcycle."
Walter snatched the keys from her hand, saying gruffly, "Well, you sure as hell ain’t gonna learn in the next five minutes." He threw the keys to Declan, who caught them one-handed. "You drive. And Declan..."
"Aye, Walter?"
"You keep my Sugar safe."
***
Walter watched them leave, a melancholy expression on his care-worn face.
Madeline drifted slowly toward the door, seemingly in a daze. Ever since her initial outburst upon learning that Connor had been kidnapped by Operations, she had been in a state of unearthly calm. "Where are they going?" she asked Walter, her elegant brows furrowed in thought.
"After Michael and Birkoff."
"You have to stop them!" Her eyes wide, she shouted at Walter again and again. "You have to stop them now!
"Why? What’s the matter?" Anytime Madeline bestirred herself to such a degree, Walter was worried.
"There’s something I need to tell them. There’s someone who can help."
"At Section?"
"Yes."
Nikita clung to Declan’s waist, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a battle flag waving at a medieval tournament. She would have found the comparison apt. This was likely only the first of many battles in a long-standing war, not just between Section and them, but between Operations and them.
All at once, Nikita’s headset was activated. Startled, she almost forgot how to talk back via comlink. Of course, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Walter was the one who put together the inventory, and he undoubtedly built in an extra subchannel, just so he could reach them.
"Sugar?" his voice blared loudly in her ears, even above the noise of the highway.
"What’s wrong?"
"Maddy needs to tell you something."
"Now?" she shouted, frowning at the unexpected intrusion. She needed to gather her thoughts together, formulate a plan, figure out where they would meet up with Michael and Birkoff, and do all of it in such a way that Michael could not prevent her from joining him.
"Wait a minute, Dad. Declan, pull over."
Declan parked the Harley on the shoulder, taking the opportunity to remove his helmet, uncovering his long red hair. He glanced curiously at Nikita, but he made no effort to question her about talking to Madeline at a time like this.
"Nikita?" Madeline’s voice came over the headset free of static, but strangely devoid of inflection.
"Yes?" she said brusquely. "Why aren’t you and the kids at the chateau right now, Mom?"
Madeline sounded affronted by her daughter’s implied criticism. "We’re almost ready to leave. But there’s something you should know."
"What?" Nikita almost yawned. Madeline used to be intimidating. Now she was reduced to making ineffectual commentary while other people fought her battles for her.
"I have a contact at One. Someone who can help you and Declan."
"Is that how Operations traced us, Mom?" she growled into the headset.
"No, Nikita, believe it or not, I was just as surprised as you were to find out Paul was alive," Madeline returned coldly. "However he found us, it wasn’t through me. I’ve only been in contact three times."
"I find that hard to believe," Nikita drawled.
"Believe what you will, Nikita."
Declan tapped the side of his helmet, gesturing that Nikita was wasting valuable time arguing with Madeline. When Nikita virtually ignored him, Declan said coolly, "We don’t have time for this, Nikita. We should be right behind them by now. If they get to Section too far ahead of us, we won’t be able to get in. We need Sey’s access. Without it, we might as well have stayed home."
Nikita glared at Declan, but she knew he was dead on. "Mom?"
"Yes, Nikita?"
"Cut to the chase. Who’s your contact? And how will we know him?"
"Oh, you’ll know him, Nikita. It’s Davenport."
***
Meanwhile...up ahead....
"Birkoff, when we get to Section One, how are we going to get inside?"
"I was able to hack into the mainframe earlier and steal a few access codes." Birkoff pressed several buttons on his panel. "I think I can fool the computer into thinking I’m someone else. Someone who still works there."
"Preferably not someone in abeyance."
Birkoff stared at Michael in disbelief. "Are you trying to be funny?"
Michael glanced quickly at Birkoff, too quickly for him to discern whether or not Michael was secretly laughing at him. "I don’t have a sense of humor. You know that."
Birkoff shook his head, his long dark ponytail bobbing behind him. "If you’re trying to relax me, stop. The idea of you being funny scares me," Birkoff said dryly.
Michael could hear confidence seeping back into Birkoff’s voice, despite his protests to the contrary, and smiled to himself. Birkoff would be okay. As for himself, he knew if he could just stay focused on the mission itself, he would be okay, too. It was a matter of staying in the moment.
He couldn’t let his mind wander at all. Cause the moment it did...it inevitably went to Nikita...and the kids. He deliberately reduced his world, his frame of reference, to himself and Birkoff. It had to be that way. Or they were never coming back.
"Connor’s my child. I should have been the one to go."
Neil studied his wife carefully. Her face was uncharacteristically flushed. "So you say, Maddy. But isn’t Nikita far more qualified?"
"I can still handle a gun, Neil."
Walter intervened. "No one’s questioning your abilities, Madeline. But you’re a bit too close to the situation, if you ask me."
His response to the kidnapping continued to surprise him. He expected to find fault with Madeline, blame her somehow, add it to the growing list of crimes committed in her name. Instead, he found himself feeling sorry for her. He didn’t know what it felt like to lose a child. Madeline did. So he cut her the requisite slack.
"Besides, Madeline, if Operations got one look at you, he’d have you canceled quicker than you can spell White Room."
"There’s a lot of history between us, Walter. Most of which you don’t know about."
"And you think that counts for anything? What, you thought you’d appeal to his better nature?" Walter snorted. "He ain’t got one."
Neil nodded. "Not to mention that you did shoot the man, Maddy."
"He would never take out his revenge on me, Neil."
Neil shook his head in disbelief. "He just tried to take out Birkoff and Declan because he knows they’re close to Michael. He took a child he assumes to be Michael’s...because of revenge. There’s no love lost there. What makes you think he sees you any differently? Because you were lovers?"
Madeline gasped.
Neil shrugged, his blue eyes growing sad. "Did you think I wouldn’t guess, Maddy? I’m not that stupid."
"Oh, Neil...it was way before you. It was another lifetime ago," she said, her eyes so dark, they were nearly black.
"I know." He looked preoccupied, his eyes casting about for something to fix upon. Something not charged with emotion. "But if you’d gone to him, what would you have done, Maddy?"
His voice dropped to a husky, sorrow-laden timbre. "Would you have slept with him again? If that was his price?"
"Neil, how can you ask me that?" Madeline turned her face away, unwilling to face the truth. Somewhere deep in her soul, she knew she would have done anything to secure Connor’s safe return. Anything.
"But you know what, Maddy? It would have been for nothing. A man like that..." He shook his head, as if emotion were starting to cloud his thinking. "He’d promise you anything and give you nothing."
Walter rested a big hand upon Neil’s shoulder. He felt his pain. Hell, he felt everyone’s pain, including his own. This was not something the family would easily survive. "You know Paul, Madeline." He considered his next words carefully.
"If he finds out Connor is not Michael’s child...he’ll have no use for him. It won’t matter that Connor is yours. He’ll be so angry...at losing what he considers to be his trump card...Connor won’t have a chance."
Madeline sighed. "I know what Paul is thinking, Walter. He thinks that bringing Michael back to Section will get him reinstated. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t aiming higher."
Walter blinked. "You think he wants to give George a run for his money?"
"I know he does." Madeline grew silent.
"It’s what I would do."
***
Madeline helped the last of the children into the car, checking compulsively that their seatbelts were fastened. Faith lifted tear-drenched green eyes to Madeline’s. "When’s Mommy and Daddy coming back?"
"I don’t know, sweetheart." For the first time since she had known Faith, Madeline felt a bond with the child. For the longest time, she had found reasons to distance herself from Faith. She was impulsive, adventurous, even aggressive upon occasion. In short, she was everything that Madeline herself would never be.
Faith visibly shivered. "But they will come back, won’t they, Mamie?"
Mamie. The French nickname for Grandma. Once she had studiously avoided any emotional connection; now she was hopelessly entangled with a family that actually called her part of it.
"Yes, princess," she stated confidently, suddenly realizing that hope was rising in her breast again.
Reaching for her cell phone, she glanced at Walter and Neil. "I’m going to give them every possible chance they’ve got." She hit speed dial. A series of musical tones swept through the cool fall air.
Walter raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Who are you calling, Madeline? Is there anyone left at Section who actually owes you a favor?" he asked, a sardonic grin in place.
She smiled patiently. "I told Nikita about Davenport. But she’s not in a very receptive mood right now. Now I’m going to let Davenport know they’re coming."
Neil stared at Madeline. "Won’t that be dangerous?"
Madeline’s smile grew. "Paul already knows where we are. He has to be working alone, or we would have been overrun by Section ops long ago."
Walter agreed. "And he couldn’t have been watching us for very long, or he would have known that Connor wasn’t Michael’s child."
Madeline’s dark eyes shone brilliantly in the fading light of day. "Davenport? I’ve got news...."
Davenport depressed the send key on his cell phone and terminated the call from Madeline. There wasn’t much time. He had to find Cassidy and then together, they would meet Michael and Nikita.
He passed Hillenger in the corridor and resisted the urge to sneer at the little weasel. He consoled himself with the thought that he wouldn’t have to tolerate his wisecracks for very much longer.
He found Cassidy in Data Retrieval and signaled unobtrusively to her. Meet me on sub-level 4. Their usual place. An imperceptible nod indicated her agreement.
When he reached sub-level 4, he didn’t have long to wait. Cassidy virtually flew down the hallway to his side. She had grown increasingly tense as Friday morning drew near. The idea of George playing God with her body didn’t sit well with her.
Davenport broke the fragile silence first. "We’re getting out."
Cassidy’s face reflected her incredible sense of relief. She would rather face certain death upon escaping Section than stay and endure any more of George’s bizarre edicts. Especially when this particular edict involved the invasion and ultimate mutilation of her body.
"When?" she asked excitedly.
Davenport looked conflicted. "Well...the good news is...we’re meeting Michael and Nikita. They should be here in about two hours."
"Great."
"You didn’t hear the bad news."
"There’s bad news?"
"Yeah." Davenport didn’t quite meet her eyes.
"We have to complete one last mission."
Cassidy shook her head until her shoulder-length chestnut hair swung back and forth. "I am not doing anything else for that man."
"No, not him, darlin’." He looked distinctly disturbed. "It seems Operations...the man I knew as Operations...isn’t dead after all."
"I’ve heard stories about him. That he was a hard, ruthless man." She thought for a moment. "Not that that would be unusual in a place like this."
"You’re lucky you never met him, darlin’. You were still at Section 3 when Operations was...allegedly...killed."
"Who tried to kill him?" Cassidy wanted to meet anyone brave or foolhardy enough to take on the head of a Section.
Davenport sighed. "His second-in-command. Madeline."
"A woman?" Cassidy couldn’t keep herself from smiling. She thought that any woman smart enough or ambitious enough to want to run a Section was definitely someone she admired.
"Okay," she said, ticking off each item on her mental checklist. "We have Operations, your Operations, who isn’t really dead. We have George, who was at Oversight, reduced to running Section One. You said it was because of Michael and Nikita." She frowned, the lines marring the near-porcelain smooth finish of her skin.
"What exactly did they do? To hear George talk about them, you would think they committed some act of high treason."
Davenport laughed harshly. "Something like that. They made a big mistake. They fell in love."
Cassidy stared at Davenport incredulously. "And?"
"And nothing. They just fell in love. They weren’t plotting to overthrow the government. They weren’t building bombs in the sub-basement. And they sure as hell weren’t planning a coup d’etat to take over One."
Cassidy rolled her eyes. "But something must have happened, Jake. People still talk about Michael and Nikita as if they were legendary. You don’t throw away your two best operatives for something as foolish as that."
Davenport shook his head. "Darlin’, all I can say is, you should have been there. I was. And that was exactly the way it went down."
"But they escaped, right?"
Davenport nodded. "Yeah." He broke into a seldom-seen smile. He had held onto this secret for such a long time, he couldn’t wait to tell her how the story of Michael and Nikita turned out.
"They got out, darlin’, and they got married."
Cassidy gasped with delight. "They did? Then they’re still alive?"
"Alive and well and living...well, I don’t even know where. Safer that way. Madeline helped them get out."
"Oh, Jake." Her slender fingers reached out and caressed his face. "Do you think we could be that lucky?"
"I hope so, darlin’. I certainly hope so."
Cassidy pondered what Davenport had told her, suddenly realizing something. "You said there was bad news, Jake. What about this mission we have to complete? And what does it have to do with Michael and Nikita?"
"That’s the thing, Derry. When Operations re-surfaced, he decided to try to get back into Oversight’s good graces by trapping Michael and bringing him back into Section One."
Davenport looked so troubled, Cassidy’s heart went out to him. "How, Jake?"
"By kidnapping one of Michael’s children."
"Oh, no..." Cassidy cried out, her heart in very real distress now. She was a damned good operative, and except for Davenport, she didn’t care about anyone. Curiously content to be true to Section all these years, she never questioned why. But there was one thing she could not abide. Something she had in common with her hero, Nikita. She could not stand anyone threatening children.
"But he didn’t get Michael’s son, Derry. His son and Madeline’s son have similar coloring. He took Madeline’s son by mistake."
Worry furrowed her beautiful brow. "Does he know?"
Davenport shook his head. "Not yet. Make that never, if we can help it."
"So the mission is to help Michael find Madeline’s son and return him?" Cassidy was nothing if not intuitive. That innate perception was what made her such a keen observer and such a good team leader. The man Davenport knew as Operations would have preferred Cassidy to Nikita. She seemed far more loyal to Section and considerably less complicated. But he might have been disappointed if he chose her instead of Nikita.
Cassidy was too unpredictable to control in any significant way. The fact that she did, in fact, follow Section protocol to the letter was irrelevant. To date, Cassidy had never found an issue worth going to the mat for. But this might well be the one.
Davenport nodded in response to her question. "Madeline is convinced that Operations will bring him in to One and hide him here. Till he can gather the powers that be as an audience for his entrapment of Michael."
"How can we help?"
"Well, darlin’, complications are popping up like weeds in the proverbial garden." Davenport was running short on time, and they needed to find Madeline’s son. Preferably before Michael got to Section One.
"Like?"
"Sasha." Davenport spoke the boy’s name as if invoking the name of some lesser demon.
"What about him? We’re taking him with us, aren’t we, Jake? We can’t abandon that child. I won’t let you leave him behind." Cassidy was so busy working herself into a frenzy, she never noticed that Davenport wasn’t speaking. Until a few long moments had passed.
"Granted, the boy is a real handful..."
"Handful? Ha! He could give lessons to the Torture Twins. But still...Space seems to think he might stop acting out and start acting halfway human if he found someone to give him the unconditional love he needs."
Cassidy looked hopefully at Davenport. He saw the expression on her face and sighed. "No, it ain’t ever gonna be us, sweetheart. I don’t have the patience for a kid like that. But I know someone who probably does."
"Who?"
"His real father."
Cassidy looked momentarily confused. "But how--?"
"Oh, he doesn’t know about Sasha yet, darlin’. But he will. Cause he’s coming here to Section One."
A pair of solemn eyes watched from the shadows. His real father was coming to Section One? He blinked. He didn’t want to see the man. He didn’t care about him. He’d left him here in this pit of despair.
"Who is his real father, Jake?"
"Someone you’ve never met."
"How come he doesn’t know about Sasha? Did you swear Madeline to secrecy?"
Davenport colored. "Madeline doesn’t know."
"You kept this from her for two years? Jake!"
"It was too risky to contact her back then. We were all under the most stringent surveillance. Besides, Michael’s family had no way of mounting a successful attack on One until now. Of course, there’s a helluva lot more at stake. So they had to come."
"Jake? Are you sure you weren’t hoping that you could take the boy yourself?" She knew Davenport well now, and she was convinced that the truth was a mixture of a little bit of both.
He looked vaguely embarrassed. "Maybe..." But he would never admit it. He did have a special place in his heart for the boy. But then, he had a special place there for the boy’s father as well.
Cassidy reached up and kissed Davenport. "You’re a good man, Jake."
The shape of the shadows changed slightly as the boy disappeared. To Davenport’s eternal despair, Sasha frequently ran away. Of course, there were a limited number of places to be within Section’s confines...and Davenport always found him.
But if Davenport could only see into the immediate future...things were going to get even more interesting.