Wicked Games
Chapter 6
Nikita searched Section high and low for Michael. She also interrogated several unfortunate operatives who had the misadventure to cross her path. Yet she was still unable to find to find the Level 5 operative anywhere.
"You'd think that after all my years in Section as a recruit and then as an operative, that I could at least find one drop dead gorgous Frenchman. It's not like he left or something, we’ve been on close quarter standby ever since he pissed off Operations when the last mission went south and he brought that woman back with us."
Finally she gave up her search and headed to MedBay. She really needed something for this migraine. As much as she hated drugs, the pain in her head threatened to blow a hole in her skull as it's intensity grew. Besides, if she couldn't see Michael and have her questions answered, at least she could spend some time chatting with Luca about her fears.
Once in MedBay's sterile environment Nikita paused a moment to adjust to the glaring white tiled walls and blinding lights. Where otherwise in this god-forsaken hellhole while everything was gray, black or chrome, MedBay stood out like a beacon. She wondered if it was because blood stood out more and would cause operatives to think more carefully about getting wounded. Or was it a reminder of their days as recruits where everywhere they looked the walls were white. It was definitely a means of torture.
After asking around Nikita found Luca at the bedside of Michael's “package“. He was changing her bandage while the two of them were chatting away in his native Croation. Luca glanced up as the doors opened and grinned at Nikita and motioned her to come in. Unable to help herself, she stepped forward, mesmerized by the pair of deep violet eyes turned in her direction. Noting the welcoming smile on the woman's face, Nikita smiled back.
"Nikita, this is McKinsey, McKinsey...Nikita," Luca, ever the gentleman, maked introductions. "She's our latest guest in MedBay, just got through with a visit with Madeline a little while ago and actually survived."
Nikita looked more deeply into McKinsey's face and saw the emotional pain and worry the girl was unable to hide and maded a quick decision said, "Luca, I've got a horrible migraine and am about ready to fall over, could you get me something for it?" she asked sweetly, "I'll stay here and keep McKinsey company, and Luca, could you dim the lights in here a bit? The glare is terrible and I think your patient would appreciate it too."
McKinsey looked at Nikita gratefully and in her soft, lilting voice affirmed Nikita's request. “I'd love the company and yes, the lights are bothering my eyes something awful."
Nikita pulled the only chair in the room next to the bed where she could talk to McKinsey without fear of being overheard and leaned her blond head in closely to McKinsey's dark auburn one proceeded to tell her that she was on the team that brought her in and told her that she looked a lot better now than she did then. She then asked her how she felt,
McKinsey dryly replied, "I think I'll live, at least I hope so. What do you think?" Noting the dark cloud that seemed to pass over Nikita's face as she tried to formulate an answer, McKinsey asked, "What is it, do you know something that I don't, please tell me, I need to know. Nikita I know I'm not in a hospital, I mean...I'm a nurse, I know what a hospital looks and sounds like and this place is all wrong."
Nikita took a deep breath, and tried to decide what to say and how much she could tell the distraught girl when the door opened and Michael walked in. Dressed in his usual black Armani suit over a black silk tee shirt with his auburn hair curling slightly around his collar as his emerald green eyes glowed in the lights.
Nikita became tongue-tied, unable to formulate the answer to McKinsey's questions. Both operatives stared at each other, the tension palpable in the small room. To McKinsey, she could feel the electricity between the two. Deciding to intervene she asked, "Who are you?"
Michael, tearing his eyes away from his love, replied, "you can call me Michael."
As the girl noted his French accent as well as his broad shoulders leading down to a trim waist and muscular thighs encased in the tailored suit, McKinsey replied, "and you can call me McKinsey. In fact I'd rather you'd call me Mac. That's what my family and friends call me, short for McKinsey MacIntyre." Babbling like a love-struck teenager, McKinsey went on, "were you on the team that brought me in?"
Michael with a slight qwirk to his beautifully, sensual full lips replied, "yes, you asked me if I were Death." McKinsey frowned and then remembered the black figure that loomed out of the dark night at her as she tried to leave the compound and turned a dark shade of red in embarrassment. Michael reached out a hand to caress her cheek softly, much to Nikita's shock.
He pulled it away just as quickly as McKinsey flinched and drew back saying, "please...please don't touch me," in a choked voice.
Michael stepped back and immediately his face lost what little animation it had, dropping his blank Section mask down, he said, "We need to talk about what you told Madeline."