Yes I Am
Yes I Am

By Absinthe

Disclaimers: My apologies to Melissa Etheridge, and my further apologies to Universal and Rennaissance for borrowing their characters. I'm sorry, I was only playing with them for a little while...
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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Email: absinthe@earthling.net