Yes I Am
Chapter 6: The Queen of Hearts is Always Your Best Bet
"Maia?" Sarah shouted over the roaring wind.
"What?" The dark woman replied, glancing away from the road to her passenger.
"Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Reincarnation? Have you been reading Cosmo again?"
"No!" Sarah replied in mock anger, "I've been having these dreams."
"I have a dream for you. You and me, crystal clear water teeming with tropical fish, the sun, the sand, and a yacht. What do you think?"
"Sounds like one hell of a dream."
"I have a month of down time coming up, and I know a woman down there who'll loan us her boat."
"Are you serious?" Sarah asked, turning in her seat and putting a hand up to fend off the strands of hair that whipped at her face.
Maia glanced over and smiled broadly.
"As a brain tumor."
When they returned, hair sun-bleached and skin bronzed, Maia was called back to Section almost immediately. The first news she heard was that Nikita had blown up an embassy and killed 16 people. Maia sought the blonde agent out to see if she could offer any support, as Nikita was notoriously soft hearted for someone of her rank. Maia passed Operations on his way out of the workout room, so she went in. She was confronted with a sparring match between Nikita and another high ranking agent. Her eyes followed the session as it moved across the room, and she was surprised by a change in Nikita's fighting style. She was like a rottweiler: she was not going to give up, no matter how many times she went down, and she at last resorted to a slightly underhanded move to defeat her opponent. He slapped the floor twice with a beefy arm, and the lithe blonde let him get up. They bowed to each other, and Nikita padded to the edge of the room to grab a towel.
"Nikita," Maia called, "Hello. How are you?"
"Fine," Nikita replied, breathing heavily.
"I heard about the embassy. Sounds like it was a rough time. You sure everything's all right?"
"Positive. How was the trip?"
"Wonderful. Look, can I talk to you for a sec?" Maia asked, touching Nikita's elbow and leaning forward conspiratorially. She was going to have to let Section know piece by piece about Sarah. They would find out eventually, and it was best to start with the person that Madeline seemed to think she identified the most with.
"What about?" Nikita seemed a little impatient. Maia was surprised by the reaction, but didn't show it.
"Nothing. Never mind, it's all right, not important. I'll see you around, huh?" the dark woman stepped back, turned on her heel, and walked out. Something was definitely wrong. Either something happened at the embassy that Nikita wasn't admitting to, or Operations and Madeline had done something to her. In any case, over all there was a definite odor of rat. Call her paranoid, but her experiences with behavior modification led her to look for it in everyone.
Maia next sought out Walter. He was cleaning the contacts of a little shielded transmitter's power cell, and muttering to himself under that navy blue bandana.
"Good morning, Walter," she said, interrupting him.
"Oh hey, darlin'" he replied, smiling just like always, "How was the sailing?"
"Great. I think I was a sailor in a past life," Maia laughingly replied, "How've things been around here?"
"Same old, same old," he said, then gestured for her to come a little closer and lowered his voice, "I guess you heard about the embassy?"
"Yes."
"What a mess. Poor Nikita. Michael's worried about her, but she seems all right to me."
"Maybe too all right. This is Nikita we're talking about. She doesn't just kill 16 people without batting an eyelash," Maia hissed back, leaning forward to take the transmitter from his calloused paw and pretending to ask him a question about it until Michael walked past.
"So, maybe she has to act this way, you know how Operations can be. . ."
"We're her friends, Walter."
"I know, honey, I know. And sometimes friends have to know when to stand back and let things happen. Trust her, she's been here longer than you, and she knows what she's doing," Walter said, his sardonic smile taking the sting out of his words. Maia frowned inwardly but clouted her friend playfully on the arm.
"Maybe you're right," and she bobbed an invisible hat to him as she walked away. Maia left him, feeling somewhat irritated and at a loss. She had expected more from Walter, who, despite his seniority was known to "buck the system" at every opportunity. Actually what was most likely was that he simply did not trust her enough to let her in on his schemes. She'd only been there for a few short years, and it took time to build up the kind of faith he had in Birkhoff and Michael. She sighed and moved on.
The mission briefing went smoothly although Maia was hard pressed to resist her desire to peek at Nikita from time to time. What she saw shocked her. This alone was not nearly enough to bring Section One down, though. Oversight would not pull the plug for personality modification experiments when they had ordered Maia's mind completely changed into someone else's. She needed more dirt.
The team was deployed and Maia fulfilled her function with the viciousness that Cassandra would have. Honestly she even enjoyed it a little. What she didn't like was the emptiness in Nikita's eyes.
When Michael went rogue, Maia giggled inwardly. Every single staff member followed the unfolding drama with perked ears and piqued curiosity. The war between Michael and Operations, or "Paul" as some called him when he was not within earshot, was no secret. That kind of animosity hangs in the air and like dogs, people can smell it from a mile away.
In any case, this break was exactly what Maia needed, and when Michael broke back into section to steal Adrienne she knew that this was her chance. If she didn't get this to Oversight or at least Amanda and Tony, she never would have this kind of evidence again. Her real dilemma though, was deciding if it was in her own best interest to interfere at all. If Michael succeeded without her help, would she be canceled with the rest of Section 1? But if she did interfere, and they failed, would she be condemned by Section 1 itself?
Selfish Bitch she thought, frowning. She'd hoped that there would be more time than this. She had to contact Michael, just to offer her help. That would be next to impossible, she knew, but she also knew that Michael would bet in touch with Walter. Walter was, after all, the singularly most useful man in Section 1. That afternoon, Maia stopped by Walter's station on the way out.
"Hey, honey," he said, per usual. Maia smiled.
"Hey Walter, how's it going?"
"Well as can be expected."
"Can I talk to you for a sec? I have a really stupid question about the VXI-21 keypads."
"Fire away, hon."
"I don't have mine with me. Do you have one I could show you?"
"Sure," Walter nodded and sauntered into the storage area. Maia followed him inside unbidden. When they were out of hearing range of any chance passersby, she put a hand on his shoulder.
"Here's the--"
"Walter, has Michael contacted you yet?"
"Cassandra, that's nothing either of us needs to touch. Don't bite off more than you can chew here," Walter warned, paternally.
Maia gave him a thin smile and shrugged off his parental advice.
"There's more than one shark in this pool, my friend. When he does get in touch with you, which you and I both know he will, transmit this information to him," Maia handed Walter a mini-disc, "you don't have to tell me anything if you feel better about it that way, just make sure that he gets this data. Understand?"
Walter nodded almost imperceptibly and pocketed the disc. Alone in the hall, Maia noticed that her palms were sweating. What scared her about this was that she was starting to have the nightmares again. What had been done to Nikita reminded her so much of the thin boundary between the light and the dark. Nikita, an inherently good person, had been stripped of her light and plunged into the darkness that was so familiar to Maia. She shuddered inwardly.
Her work was over. She had a day or two of down time to relax at home with Sarah before the next mission, and wait for contact from Michael, if indeed he chose to do so at all. Feeling a bit nauseous, Maia went home. Sarah was out, working as usual, so Maia sauntered into their little den after a stop off in the kitchen for a fistful of trail mix. Sarah was vegan now and there wasn't much in the house to eat that wasn't built around the rather fanatic new diet. Maia had to respect her for it though, but Sarah's concerns were so blessedly normal.
She could have a bad day at work without being executed for it, and Maia envied her that. She vaguely remembered such a time... back in high school. Wow. It had been a long road to . . . to getting tired, and tired she certainly was. But with any luck, Adrienne would be her ticket out. Luck was a lot to ask these days though, the dark woman mused, rolling onto her back on the velvet sofa and munching on a raisin. Gods she hated trail mix. She also hated uncertainty, despite its unavoidability in her profession.
We don't always get what we want.
A key turned in the lock, and Maia smiled at the familiar tune of an Indigo Girl's song being whistled several notes off key. Sarah soon stumbled inside, laden with grocery bags. Her shock of blonde hair was all that Maia could see over the tops of the brown paper bags. The agent was on her feet in a heartbeat to relieve the diminutive woman of her burdens.
"Hi!" Sarah exclaimed, punctuating the greeting with a deep kiss.
"What was that for?"
"I'm just glad you're back," Sarah replied, failing completely to hide her anxiety.
"Worried?"
"And why wouldn't I?"
"Because I can handle it, my love," Maia replied, starting to put the groceries away and feeling for a moment, extraordinarily domesticated.
"But what if you can't? What if something happens?"
"Something is happening, Sarah, right now. And if I don't get in on it, I'll be doing this for the rest of my life," Maia grinned suddenly. It was a slightly maniacal grin of joy and fear, of anticipation and regret. It made Sarah take a compulsive step backwards.
"You mean . . . You might get out?"
"With any luck. Sarah, this could be it," Maia added, but didn't mention that it could be either ‘it' like the end or ‘it' like the big break. Sarah smiled, a quieter, untroubled smile and threw her arms around her lover's neck. She rubbed her nose against Maia's and then kissed her tenderly. Maia responded by scooping the little blonde up in her arms and carrying her into the bedroom. To Hell with the groceries.
Chapter 7: You Say the Coast is Clear, but You Say That All the Time
It was three A.M. when he called. Maia picked up the phone; Sarah could sleep through a hurricane without rolling over, so she didn't hear the ringing.
"Outside, ten minutes," was all the voice on the other end said. With a smile, Maia pulled on some clothes that were still on the floor, and padded out. She left a hastily scribbled note on the fridge, and shoved her feet into a pair of boots before dashing out the door and into the breezy, still chilly night air. The wind smelled of rubber and cement and cars, but it carried with it a hint of deep grass and moist, wild soil -- or maybe that was just a memory of another place. She stepped lightly onto the sidewalk and checked her watch. Thirty seconds to go. The dark woman slipped effortlessly back into the shadows and made her way up the walk, getting away from the door and watching the road with the keen vision of a bird of prey.
A black van cruised up the road, its well tuned engine running smoothly and quietly. It paused just long enough for Maia to clamber into the passenger seat before rumbling away again into the darkness. Micheal did not even look at her, but pointed to the bag at her feet and said,
"Put that on."
She did, and when she was done, she had to grin at herself and at the ingenuity of Micheal's plan. She checked her face in the mirror and found it to be perfect. The visage that returned her smile was a wonderful latex replica of Nikita's. The bone restructuring that Section had given her before planting her in Section One had toned down the high cheekbones of her natural face and strengthened her jawline, taking her facial structure very close to Nikita's only by chance. Their eye color was almost identical, and Maia's hair was easily covered by a blonde wig.
They pulled into the parking garage below Nikita's apartment building. She was a notorious night owl and it wasn't long before they saw her come down the stairs. Michael nodded to his accomplice.
"Just do what she would. Keep her bodyguards convinced that they're following her," he said, then was out the door. He had Nikita tranked and in the van as Maia smoothly took her place and continued the blonde's long strided walk. Madeline's two beefy guardians followed their charge at a discreet distance, and she led them along like dogs on invisible leashes. She played this game for a few hours then returned to Nikita's apartment, letting herself inside with a copied key that Michael had so kindly provided. She wandered the rooms, picking at the dead plants, and peering into the refrigerator. What was there only confirmed everything that they already knew. Even her dietary habits had changed wildly, and the dead plants simply spoke of her recent lack of regard and affection for life.
She waited a little while and then left via the fire escape, which she took three stories up, then broke into someone else's apartment. Once inside she stripped off the mask and shucked off her outer layer of clothes, leaving a pair of tight grey pants and darker grey sweat shirt. She left through the front door, hailed a taxi, and rode home.
The sky was just beginning to lighten as Maia walked through the door. Sarah was still fast asleep, and the dark woman stripped back down to her panties before slithering into bed next to her love. Three hours later, the phone rang. Maia was on her feet in a heartbeat, automatically picking up the handset before she was even fully awake. Sarah let out a squeaky protest to the coming of the day.
"I have to leave," Maia whispered. The sleepy blonde nodded vaguely without opening her eyes, then sat bolt upright.
"Leave?" She demanded, panic stricken, "Where are you going?"
"To work, my love," Maia planted a kiss on Sarah's forehead, but the blonde snaked her arms around the dark woman like vines around a tree.
"Wait. Please promise you're coming home!"
"I promise. Love, I will come home," Maia extricated herself gently, "Please believe me. It's OK."
Maia felt a wash of guilt, and Sarah could read it on her face as clearly as if it were written in black and white.
"I'm so glad you came back to me, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," the blonde smiled brilliantly, and Maia felt momentarily warmed by the glow of her bard's love. Bard?
"Love you," Maia replied, kissing her fingertips and touching them to Sarah's forehead before she backed out of the room.
Section One was in a tumult. Nikita was missing, and as Maia arrived, so did George. George was the one man in Oversight that Maia hoped might see what was going on in Section One; the often suspected but never proven duplicity of Operations. Escape was so close at hand that Maia hardly dared to breathe. She went about her duties as usual, but her review of a mission log was suddenly disrupted. Maia swallowed hysterical laughter. Michael had done it. George and Paul were walking past Birkhoff's position, and thirteen LCD flatscreens and seven CRT screens suddenly flashed Adrienne's face. She was speaking, but the volume was low, and it wasn't until everyone stopped talking to stare at the screens that Maia could make out the words.
She was telling George what had been done to her, more or less, but George was oblivious. Maia saw Operations reach for his shoulder holster, and she instinctively grabbed for a pen. Before she knew what she was going to do, the heavy silver pen was embedded in the wall across from Operations, and his glock was spinning on the floor.
"George!" Maia shouted, turning the screen in front of her to face the two men who held the power of life and death over her. George stared openmouthed, and in the moment of shock, Operations called for agents to detain him. Maia was on her feet in a heartbeat, placing her body between George and Operations. There was a moment of decision as Operations glanced around him, shouting orders that no one seemed in a hurry to follow. This was it.
In that moment of frozen disobedience, Paul's fate was decided. Ostensibly, he was found guilty of unnecessary murder and inhumane treatment by a drumhead court, but the truth didn't matter. Not even the find toothed examination of his personal files revealed the real nature of the man. No one would ever know if he was a martyr or a villain. Adrienne had once believed the latter, but her mind was gone and with it the memories of the "Mother of Section", George's lover and long-time friend. Her attempts to bring Section One down had failed miserably, but in the end her own defeat was what caused Paul's downfall, and Maia knew that she would be pleased.
Maia found herself in the very place where her life with Section had begun. She was locked in a white, featureless cell. The stark walls muffled any sound she made, and the silent passage of the days ground like millstone at her thoughts. Years ago, she had clawed at the padding on the walls of a room exactly like this one until her fingers bled and her nails broke off at the quick. Maia shuddered. She hated being caged, but her time with Section and Section One had numbed her to the pain, to the memories of old love and old pain, and to her own inner voices. The darkness loomed inside her like a mouth.
The hardest lessons in her life were so simple. Never forget, because the past does return. Do not fear, because fear causes lack of focus. Love hard and long, because nothing else can make life worth living. Do not feet your own pain, because it will fester and cause ruination. Maia closed her eyes against the sight of the cell, and closed her ears against the silence. How did I wind up here? How long until I get it right? She silently berated herself. After the life times lived in peace, why did her soul continue to seek out the dark paths of war?
Maia at last slept.
At the trial, the Head of Operations of Section (THE section, the one that had planted Maia in Section One) revealed Maia as what she had been: a plant, not loyal to Paul at all. She was not sure if he'd done this to save her life or to protect himself. Accusations of treachery were notoriously contagious.
Nikita, missing until that point, resurfaced with Michael. He'd succeeded in reversing the alterations done to her mind, but only with Adrienne's help. It had been a harrowing week for them both. Of the operatives in Section one, only Maia, Michael and Nikita were spared. Section One was liquidated. All the operatives' loyalty was questionable -- they were damaged goods.
George himself came to speak to Maia after the dust settled. He gave her a hug and said one word.
"Go."
Maia nodded, and felt her eyes moisten a little at the thought. She was free. With a nod, and a firm squeeze of her ‘savior's' hand, she walked out the door of the little white cell she'd been kept in for the past two weeks as Paul's trial and the deconstruction of Section One progressed. What information she later garnered of the events of those weeks she got from a short whispered conversation with Nikita.
On shaking legs, Maia left for good, forever. On the sidewalk outside, she stopped to smell the warm spring air, and smiled as her tired eyes adjusted to the bright light of day. It had been many life times since she'd breathed free air, and it had never felt so good just to exhale. The only thing that could make this moment any sweeter would be the weight of Sarah's head on her shoulder.
Like all the victories in her life, however, this one was tinged with uncertainty. Birkhoff, Walter, Jenn, Madeline, Chris, Marija and countless others were being, at this very moment even, canceled. To what end? To perhaps remove a man from power that might have been creeping towards world domination? Had Adrienne's suspicions been mere paranoia?
Section One was gone, but in a few years, another version of the same system would be firmly established. More people would be forced into that world of death and deception, and more people would die to serve the ends of Section. Perhaps their ends were just, perhaps they were reducing terrorism and saving innocents, but the methods of Section left Maia wondering.
Pushing these thoughts harshly aside, the dark woman pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door to the apartment. The Indigo Girls were on the stereo, and the entryway smelled of incense. Maia called out.
"Sarah?"
The response was the sudden appearance of a very enthusiastic blonde. Sarah was distressed over Maia's rumpled and sun-starved appearance, but the good tidings that Maia bore erased the concern from her face.
"Are you serious? Are you sure? It's over?" The barrage of rhetorical questions ended with a serious one, "What are we going to do now?"
Maia smiled and shrugged. Leave it to Sarah to think of the one question Maia hadn't.
"Move to Thailand and become banana farmers?" the dark woman jokingly suggested, "I don't know. Anything, everything."
"Everything sounds like a place to begin. But first, you look starved. How about some dinner?"
The pair danced their way into the kitchen, reveling in their newfound lightness.
But Maia had to wonder: She had chosen one of the lesser degrees of evil, hadn't she?
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