The Escape
By Kimberly
Nikita carefully looked around, looking for someway to slip out of the club, without being seen. The main entrance was on the far side of Michael and Alexandra. Darren swore softly, "Nikita, we gotta move now, we're about to have company."
Nikita looked over at Michael, who was walking in their direction.
"We go through the Kitchen, now," Nikita told him, "Put your arm around me, so we look together."
Darren put his arm around her shoulders, and they quickly started towards the kitchen. Just as they were about to reach the doors, a waiter came through the door, knocking into them, knocking Nikita and Darren down, and drawing a lot of attention to them. "Madre de dios!" Darren swore, leaping up. Nikita was already springing to her feet. She turned and bolted with Darren.
The entire kitchen picked that moment to go insane. Someone screamed as they burst through the doors. Everyone stopped, as it to make their escape harder. Darren started to shove people to the side as they wove through surprised and shocked kitchen staff. Right before they reached the exit, a waiter dropped two pies, splattering cherry filling everywhere. Darren slipped, falling to his knee's, Nikita turned to yank him up, and caught sight of Michael just making it into the kitchen. He stared at her in mute shock.
Nikita didn't wait though. She dove through the door, still holding onto Darren's arm.
She and Darren sprinted for the van.
"Are we all here?" Nikita gasped, sprawling on the floor of the van.
"Yeah - what's going on?" one of the operatives from the agency asked.
"GO!" Nikita ordered - and watch the intersections. By now, Michael's giving the order to box us in. He's going to think we've - they've been breached."
"Nikita, what the hell are you doing?" Larry's voice came through her comm link, "George is -"
"Cut radio transmission," Nikita ordered, looking at Sue.
Sue hesitated.
"DO IT!" Nikita snapped.
Sue's fingers flew over the key board, "OK! OK! We're silent!"
Nikita groaned, and twisted around, looking out the back window.
"What's going on?" Ming asked.
Darren sighed, "Michael and Alexandra - the two Section One operatives on sight knew Nikita and I . . . very well. They were told we died a few months ago."
"OH," Ming said, looking at Darren, then Nikita. Her eye's traveled to the other operatives that came from Section One.
"Alex looks good," Tony said off hand, looking at Darren, "Michael still looks like Michael."
"What did you expect them to look like?" Another ex-section one operative said, "We could be canceled for this."
Nikita sighed, "Not canceled - but I'm going to get an ass chewing, that's for sure."
They reached Section Three. Larry was waiting for them, livid angry.
"Who do you think you are! We're supposed to share leading this place!" Larry yelled at Nikita when she stepped off the van.
Everyone scattered quickly. This was just one of many fights that took place publicly. Larry always attacked publicly. Nikita waited until they were alone. Everyone knew it too.
"I do consult you on decisions! You're the one who gave up an assignment without talking to me, and then didn't pull it! Section Three was once a Valentine Op base," Nikita snapped at him, "Michael knows that. It was closed over three years ago. What do you think he's going to do when a Section that was closed is suddenly reported on site?"
"Michael can't know everything!" Larry told her.
"No, but he did think they'd been breached. He'd have taken us out! And those of us from Section One are under orders to not have contact with Section One. We could be canceled! Now I know cancel is a concept you can't comprehend, but for half of us here, it's a very real concept! No one here wants to die!" Nikita yelled back at him.
Larry laughed at her, "Nikita, you're fucking insane! No one is gonna kill you off for being exposed!"
"Yeah they will," Darren said quietly, the soft timber of his voice drawing everyone's attention, "Rico was canceled 5 months ago. Jason was canceled two months after I entered operative status. The rules where we come from are different."
Darren looked at Nikita, "Want me to try to hack Sections system?"
"No," Nikita said quietly, "Larry and I will call George, tell him what's happened."
"This is never going to work out," Nikita said, striding into her office, Larry hot on her heals, "You just don't understand how Section One works."
"This isn't Section One," Larry snapped at her, "Three, Section Three!"
Nikita glared up at him, punching in the number, "Half of us are trained one way, the other half is trained - I use the word loosely, in a totally different manner - What . . . George please . . . then patch me through a land line, I have an emergency . . . .Nikita from Section Three."
She looked back at Larry, "I'm on hold."
"You can't panic every time something doesn't go right," Larry told her, "You're falling apart."
Nikita shook her head, "I didn't panic - I was scrambling to cover our asses. If I was prone to panicking, I'd have panicked when we were almost blown up London two weeks ago. I'd have freaked out in Istanbul when were suddenly drastically outnumbered, I'd have lost it when we lost radio communication in Tehran - George!"
Nikita hit the speaker phone, "Larry and I are both on the line now George - We just ran across Michael and Alex from Section One with our targets, and he might have made me."
"I see," George said, "What's your status now."
"I aborted our mission," Nikita told him, "I'm under orders, no contact - correct."
"Operations orders . . . yes, I guess that would apply still . . . I'll do damage control on this end, I'm in Section One now."
"Great," Nikita said, "Tell Madeline and Operations I said hello, and tell them I have additional Intel on the target."
"Nikita, hold on for a moment," George said, "I'm going to hand the phone to Madeline now."
Nikita winced.
"Nikita," Madelines voice said, "How have you been?"
Larry groaned, "Let me know when you ladies are done gossiping." He walked out of her office. Nikita snatched up the phone.
"Sorry about that Madeline, my counterpart here doesn't see things the way I do," Nikita told him, "He could use a few weeks in your ettiquette classes."
"Perhaps we can arrange for a few people to have lessons again," Madeline told her, "I just heard about half an hour ago that you were still with us, in a manner of speaking."
Nikita laughed, "You have no Idea how 'with you' I am Madeline. Did George tell you how this place runs?"
"Briefly," Madeline said, "I'm alone, the line is secure, we can talk freely."
Nikita rolled her eye's, "I never thought I'd say this. I actually miss Operations. I miss how Section One ran things. I still don't like the sacrifices, but I never appreciated the necessity until now."
"George said that you and Larry were having methodology problems," Madeline told her.
Nikita groaned, "Huge methodology problems. He won't take risks. The half that came here from the agency is lazy. They're infecting my - I mean the operatives from Section One. James Bond wannabe's. I hate it here."
"I imagine you do."
"How . . . how is Michael?" Nikita asked softly, "I think he saw me."
Madeline took a deep breath, "His performance is satisfactory, just. I think that emotionally he's shut down. He and Alexandra butt heads often. She's rebellious. On missions her performance OK. But she challenges his authority at every opportunity. Both of them are having trouble with their tempers - and not just with each other."
Nikita sighed, "Darren's very cold. He's great on missions, but he's shut the world out. He socializes minimally. He hasn't unpacked . . . and I have to say that I'm seeing the same things when I look in the mirror."
"Big changes like these are hard to weather," Madeline told her.
Nikita managed a short bitter sounding laugh, "You know when you sent me on that suicide mission, and the Freedom league had me for six months . . . I'm just as miserable now, but I don't want to die. I just go day to day, I never plan farther ahead that the missions . . . and I shouldn't be telling you any of this I know . . . but in a way, I think this is almost worse."
"I don't have the authority to make any judgments or decisions about you Nikita," Madeline told her, "I'd like to think there are times when we can step out of our old roles."
Nikita felt her lips pull up in a little bit of a smile, "Thank you. I'd love to wallow in self pity, but I have a mess to clean up. I'll transmit our data to you. The target that Michael is bringing in is selling anthrax spores to someone. Is that why Section One was after him?"
"No," Madeline told her, "He's our link to a terrorist group out of Ireland."
"I need to know who he's buying the spores from and for," Nikita told her
"Are you equipped to handle that kind of a mission, staffing wise?" Madeline asked her.
"Half of us are," Nikita replied.
Nikita heard Madeline chuckle, "I'll find out who and where Nikita. I'll call you when I know."
* * *
Michael was quiet, but that wasn't unusual, Alexandra thought to herself. But she knew something was wrong - and it didn't involve the scumbag that was trussed up in handcuff's in the back of the plane.
"Tell me about Section Three," Alexandra prodded him, wishing there was someone else to talk to.
"It was the Valentine Op corps several years ago. They were incorporated into Section One," Michael told her.
Alexandra looked over at him, "Then who was out there tonight?"
"I don't know," Michael replied, and closed his eye's.
Alexandra sighed, and tried to make herself comfortable. A nap was the only way she was going to survive the trip back. She wanted a cigarette badly, and she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in months. Besides the fact that they were incredibly busy, when she did sleep, her dreams were haunted. A night didn't go by when she didn't dream about exploding vans, or the last time she saw Darren alive and well. He'd been pulling on his coat, smiling at her. He'd leaned down, and kissed her, and said he'd come right back when he was done. It was the memory of his smile, his eye's full of love and acceptance that haunted her. So perfect . . . she'd thought to herself that if she died that day, she'd have died a happy woman. But she wasn't the one who died.
* * *
Darren was sitting on the bed in his quarters inside section three, his back to the wall, a PDA in his lap. He heard the knock on his door, and looked up. Nikita stood there, leaning up against the door frame, "We should be leaving within the next two hours."
Darren nodded, "Please tell me we don't have any agency 'fuck-ups' on this one."
Nikita frowned, "Some of them are good, you're not giving them a chance."
Darren looked up at her, "We've had very few missions where something didn't go wrong Nikita."
"Is it the mistakes, or that when you look up, you still expect to see red hair and blue eye's," Nikita asked him.
"Do you still look up and expect to see reddish brown hair and green eye's?" Darren asked her.
"Daily," Nikita answered, "I gotta go argue with Larry on the best way to do this . . ."
Darren rolled his eye's, "I want to go home Nikita."
* * *
"Michael," Madeline said as soon as he stepped off the van, "I want to talk to you in my office about Section Three."
Jonathan stood a few feet behind Madeline, waiting to interrogate the target. Alexandra prayed she didn't have to debrief with Jonathan.
"OK," Michael said, and matched Madeline's stride as they went to her office. She let them in, and took her seat behind her desk. Michael didn't sit down.
"I thought Section Three was defunct," Michael said quietly.
"So did I, until about 12 hours ago. So how did Nikita look?" Madeline asked him.
"Good," Michael replied, "I almost didn't see her. They pulled out quickly."
Madeline nodded, "I spoke with her about 12 hours ago. George was here, and was just telling me how things were going there. He didn't realize I did not know they were transferred, and not killed in an accident."
She stood up, and walked over to her wall of plants, and picked up a pair of scissors, then put them back down, "She's weary, maybe a little depressed, but from what I heard in her voice, I'm guessing she's managing."
"Did you have any doubt?" Michael asked her, watching Madeline sit back down.
"I really didn't know it was a transfer Michael," Madeline told him, "She would not have been my first choice. It's not that she can't do the job, but it's a little early for her, and we needed her here. She's the youngest level 5 in terms of actual age, and years in Section One. Her counterpart is ineffective. They're failing, despite Nikita's efforts."
"What will happen?" Michael asked calmly.
"George rarely orders cancellations. I'm going to ask that she and a few others be transferred back here. We're very short on cold ops now, and I suspect that they're proving . . . too aggressive, for the parameters of Section Three," Madeline told him, "At any rate, I'll know more after the conference."
The next evening. . .
"Nice boots honey," Walter said patting her boot covered thigh. She sat in a chair with her feet up on his table.
Alexandra had on a pair of dark sunglasses. Dark red lipstick. Big hoop earrings, thick heavy long chains around her neck, as well as the disk pendant that Darren had given her. They hung almost to the hem of her black crop top. The waist band of her leggings came in just below her belly button, leaving the piercing exposed.
"I think so," Alexandra said.
Walter couldn't help but remember a time when he'd placed a tracker in one of Nikita's boots.
"Well, you're either here to seduce me, or you had a date on the outside," Walter said, "I'm much more fun."
Alexandra grinned, "I'm sure you are Walter. I'm giving up on men. I'm gonna take Madelines advice - use 'em for sex, and leave 'em. It's easier that way. But I don't have a date tonight, I was just gonna go out and go dancing till the wee hours, and then go home alone."
Walter eyed the navel piercing, "Get anything else pierced lately?"
Alexandra grinned, "I don't know what you could possibly mean Walter! Hey - my shoulders hurt, why don't you make yourself useful and give me a shoulder massage."
She leaned forward and shrugged her coat off her shoulders, "Here ya go."
"This was not how I envisioned getting my hands on you," Walter told her, walking behind her, "Beggars can't be choosers I guess."
Birkhoff walked in, picked up the electronic camera, and took a picture.
"Now see if you can switch Walter's head with Operations," Birkhoff told her.
"Ewe! Yuk! Why would a I want a picture with Operations rubbing my shoulders?" Alexandra asked.
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire echoing in the hallway jarred them out of their banter.
"Shit!" Walter hissed.
Birkhoff bolted for his comm station, yelling for Gayle to initiate the lockdown codes.
"Birkhoff wait!" Alexandra yelled, grabbing the machine gun off the table, and the two clips that went with it. He was going to expose himself, and find himself without any cover. She charged after him, racking in a clip. The bullet proof glass shields started to drop, then halted.
"We're jammed!" Gayle yelled, "The codes don't work now!"
Birkhoff started to pound away on a keyboard. Alexandra pulled out her 45 from her boot and handed it to Gayle.
"If you don't know them, drop them," Alexandra told her.
Alexandra started to shove chairs into one area, and dropped to the floor. It would be hard to see her there, it would give her the element of surprise for a few moments.
"Birkhoff, get on the floor," Alexandra ordered. Gayle turned and yanked Birkhoff down to the floor, and he pulled the keyboard with him.
"I can't break back in, we're off line," Birkhoff said in shock, looking up at Operations, who was looking at him through the glass, barking at his microphone. Birkhoff gestured to his ear, hoping Operations would know couldn't hear him.
"Give me the gun, we're being downloaded!" Birkhoff yelled.
Gayle handed him the forty five. Alexandra turned and pointed her machine gun at the first terminal, and let off a dozen rounds, then the next, then the next.
Michael came running in from one hall, as did a few other cold ops. Alexandra looked over, and saw the first members of the assault team already on the 2 level walkway.
"Michael, above you!" Alexandra yelled, and turned her rifle on the people advancing on Operations.
They'd started to fire on them and towards Operations office. Michael dove and rolled, firing as he came up. One of them managed to throw something down onto the main floor.
Alexandra dove back down behind the chairs, pulling at Gayle to try and protect her too, "Birkhoff stay down!"
Whoomph! The whole room shook. Alexandra leapt up, just as the shaking started to fall off, looking for something to target. Someone moved on the 2 walkway and she fired, but they fired back. Her left arm was yanked back, and she staggered back. Fighting to stay on her feet.
But it was over.
She saw something move off to the side of her and whirled, but saw Walter slithering out from behind something, two guns in hand. Michael picked himself up off the floor. Alexandra felt something wet on her upper lip and her neck. She reached up and wiped. Her nose an ears were bleeding from the concussion. Walter had blood oozing from his ears and nose as well.
"Operations!" Alexandra gasped, but she could hardly hear herself, her ears were still ringing. She staggered for the stairs. Michael beat her to it, and was racing up the stairs, a few steps in front of her. They found operations on the floor, his hand pressed to his stomach, his gun in his other hand. He was alive, at the moment.
Alexandra turned back and ran for Med lab.
When she came back with the two remaining live member of Med lab, Michael had his cell phone out, and waved it at them. He couldn't hear well enough to talk to whomever was on the phone. He had a disk in hand, and was loading it up. After a few minutes, the Med lab staff yelled to Michael that there was an army chopper on the way now for operations and anyone else who was desperate for medical treatment. Michael barely understood him. Alexandra mouthed that she'd start to search the compound. She grabbed Walter and two other cold ops and began the search.
It was late in the evening, most of Section One was out, the assault team had been counting on that. They found a few more badly wounded but live people, and helped them up to mission loading. Alexandra pulled a few more uninjured cold ups into the lift with her, just in case it wasn't an army helicopter waiting for them. When the bay doors opened, the chopper was just landing. Alexandra and the other cold ups fanned out, guns trained. The medical team hesitated for a moment, but the Med lab staffers yelled something to them, then gestured for Alexandra and the other cold ops to lower their weapons. The injured that they'd gathered up were loaded up into the chopper. Three medics wanted to stay behind, but Alexandra wouldn't let them in. She pressed her forty five into the hands of the Med lab staffer, and told him to not let Operations out of his site.
When he got back to the rubble that was the main floor, the remnants of Section had gathered. 14 of them. Michael waited until they were all there. He yelled, knowing they could barely hear him. He'd sent out a cell distress code to all the Section One cold ops, an automated message that would play on their cell telling them that they'd been breached, and where to report. Various substations would come pick them up at various points. Those that were here would be reporting to Seattle. He wanted everyone to split up into small groups. They had five days to make it to various points in Seattle. Section Three would pick them up. Walter was doling out arms and ammunition like candy. Gayle and Birkhoff stared in horror at the mess around them. Michael handed Birkhoff the laptop, and told him it was now his problem.
Michael gestured to Alexandra's wounded arm, and motioned for her to do something about it. Gayle pulled at her good arm. She'd help Alex wrap it.
Just as Walter, Birkhoff and Michael rounded the corner to stop at Med Lab, Gayle was pulling out the bullet from Alexandra's arm, tears streaming down Gayles face just as much as Alexandra's. Michael squeezed out some antibiotic ointment onto the dressing, and shoved bandages, antibiotics, and pain killers into a sack. He quickly bound up her arm.
"How are we going?" Alexandra asked as they started down the hall.
"Van," Michael mouthed to her. He punched in a code and the side bay doors opened. They walked into the parking garage, and over to an older chevy van, painted sky blue with a couple dents in it. Michael yanked open the back, and switched off the license plates. Alexandra, Birkhoff and Gayle climbed in back, and While Michael drove them through the streets back and forth to loose what ever tails they might have, Walter took wet nap and started to clean up Alexandra's face. Everyone else had started to clean up while Gayle bandaged Alexandra's arm.
"You should have gone with the army chopper," Walter said gently. Alexandra shook her head, "I can stand, I can fight."
"Try to get some rest back there," Michael called back, "We'll be driving in shifts, straight through as much as we can."
It was early in the morning when they had to stop for gas at a minimart. They converged on the snack aisle, and Michael let Walter take the wheel, and Michael checked Alexandra's arm, and gave her another antibiotic shot, and a few more pills to swallow. He tried to gently clean the wound out a little more, and Alexandra muffled her cries in the sleeve on her good arm as best she could, until Michael was done steri-stripping it closed. Gayle looked like she was ready to pass out herself after witnessing it all. Michael assured Alexandra it was as clean as it could get now, and she nodded, gasping still at the pain. Michael offered her some morphine, but she declined it. She needed to be alert. She wanted a cigarette, she and Michael argued. The next time they stopped, she was out of the van, and smoking.
Five days later, they were waiting at the assigned point, but they were early. They'd been in communication silence for 5 days, and it had been nerve wracking. They'd cleaned up as best they could in rest stops and mini marts in the wee hours. But money had started to run short, using a credit card or ATM card would tell anyone tracking them where they were. They'd had to resort to theft for the last three days worth of gas. As they all huddled together in Pioneer square, Alexandra made the comment that they looked a lot like the street people around them. A couple college age kids driving by asked her how much for an hour. She flipped her middle finger up at them, and lit herself a cigarette.
"The people who are going to bring us in will bring us in like targets," Michael warned them, "Don't fight them. Alex, put out the cigarette."
Alexandra ignored him.
"I'm so hungry, I don't think I could fight anyone right now," Gayle complained.
They'd done a lot of gas drive off's. There was minimal exposure that way.
"I'm so hungry, I should have taken those guys up on their offer," Alexandra said, and shrugged when Birkhoff looked at her shocked, "Hey, I'm a paid whore now for our employers. Why not?"
"Alex," Michael said softly.
Alexandra groaned, "It's a joke Michael."
"The cigarette," Michael said sternly.
Alexandra ignored him, and took a long drag on her cigarette.
"Alex," Michael warned her.
"What is your problem with a cigarette? Who am I putting at risk?" Alexandra demanded, "My health? We all obviously have such a great chance of making 65, don't we - Sorry Walter."
"It's a matter of discipline," Michael told her, "Put it out."
"No," Alexandra told him, "I think you need to find something not so disciplined for yourself Michael."
A van came around the corner.
"It's starting," Michael said softly, watching a van pull up.
The side doors yanked open, and five people they didn't recognize poured out. They all looked a bit nervous.
"Who's Michael?" one of them asked them. None of them drew guns on them, but they all had their hands inside jacket pockets. They all knew the guns were hidden inside the pockets.
"I am," Michael said calmly, "What's the security code."
"Jabba the hut eats worms," the guy said, "Help yourselves into the van if you please, leave the bags on the bench, we'll pick them up."
Alexandra shrugged off her nap sack, and ground out her cigarette. Birkhoff laid his lap top down. Walter and Michael each had a bag as well, and set that down too. They climbed into the van, and watched their stuff be quickly sorted through, then thrown into a locked container in the back of the van. Hoods were placed over their heads. Their hands were bound. The others climbed in, and they were off.
When they came to a stop and the van was turned off, someone helped them out of the van, leaving the hoods in place. They were marched through several halls, and then herded into a room. Someone untied them, and removed the hoods.
"You can let them out, it's them," a voice said.
They all looked at each other, it was Nikita's voice.
The door opened, and they all filed out into the hall. Nikita stood there, dressed in black slacks, a white T-shirt under a blazer.
Alexandra glanced over at Michael, then back at Nikita.
"Alex," A voice said behind her. Alexandra whirled around, and staggered. It was Darren's voice. He caught her, and she cried out when hand grasped her arm.
"Don't! My arm . . .!"She gasped.
"Alex needs to be treated in Med lab," Michael said calmly, "She has an open wound, in her fore arm."
"Darren," Nikita said, "Escort Alex - We have some rooms for the rest of you to clean up in, the cafeteria is open - Michael I need to know what happened."
"So do I," Michael said calmly.
"Sugar," Walter said, walking up to her, "Honey, you have more lives than a cat - I'd hug you, but I smell."
Nikita laughed, "Joe - show them the rooms. I'll show Michael his."
Nikita started down the hall, expecting Michael to follow her. She heard his light footsteps, so she knew he was there. She opened a room, letting them in.
"I'll have -"
Michael suddenly whirled around, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms. His mouth covered hers, kissing her hungrily. Both of them thought of that night on the barge. Did they dare? Here?
The Kiss broke.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael asked her, his voice husky, his fingers sliding into her hair at her temples, grazing her cheeks.
"Because I couldn't, Operations . . ."
Michael nodded. He understood. He hated it, but he understood. He stepped back, and started to strip off his cloths.
"I've missed you so much," Michael said, turning on the shower, and tossing the last of his clothing onto the floor, and climbing in the shower, "I almost went after you that night in Amsterdam . . ."
"I was surprised we got away, not everyone here is as well trained as Section One operatives," Nikita told him, "What happened to Section One Michael. The report we got was that you were breached. Operations is stable, finally. They think it might be red cell or Legion."
"We were infiltrated. I don't know how. They hacked our system, I don't know if it was from the inside or not. They time it for late in the evening, when Operations would be there, but the number of operatives would be down. Alexandra protected the system, and when Birkhoff realized he was being hacked, she helped him destroy the mainframe. If she and Walter hadn't been watching all entry points . . ."
Nikita nodded, "Well, we know about that and nothing else. Two teams have swept the compound, and turned up nothing we can track. They knew the security system, so they probably had help. Someone said Max and Regi ran, they're suspect for giving us up right now."
Michael called out, "They ran because they both tested positive for HIV. They didn't want to spend the rest of their time in the abeyance pool. I can't see them betraying Section One. They were both very fond of Alexandra, they had other friends there. They'd choose to die before they gave up Section."
"That's what I thought," Nikita told him, "I understand Alex's performance is good, but she's been a little rebellious."
"She's smoking," Michael told Nikita, "Drinking lightly, it hasn't been a problem. The smoking is an act of defiance. I tell her to put her cigarette out, she ignores me, we argue until she'd done with it."
"In Amsterdam, I saw you take the whole pack and crush it," Nikita told him, and said hesitantly, "Looked like you and I a few years ago."
The shower turned off, and Michael stepped out, grabbing a towel, "No Nikita, not even close. No one replaced you while I thought you were dead."
"I didn't think . . . not really . . ." Nikita stammered.
She leapt up from her seat on the bed, and tossed a pair of sweats, T-shirt and socks at him. Michael got dressed quickly, and sat down next to Nikita to pull his boots back on.
"Tell me about the Security here," Michael asked her.
"It's a smaller version of Section one," Nikita told him, "If the room exists, there's a camera. The surveillance is all monitored electronically, and erases after a month unless I choose to not have it erased, or I cancel surveillance. Three checkpoints to enter. We have a small in house security force, the same bullet proof and airtight glass shields that Section had."
"And your counterpart?" Michael asked her.
"Larry, he's a pain in the ass and a coward," Nikita told him, standing up, "We argue about it daily. He hasn't left the facility for a mission in months."
"Operations doesn't go on missions," Michael pointed out to her.
"Larry is a level 5, just like me. We document everything, and George monitors us a lot. Larry goes form expecting to much from the Section On operatives, to too little from Agency Operatives. This station is run in cooperation's by whatever level 5 Operatives are present. I don't know how much you found out about us, but we're supposed to be a more humane version of Section One. Our Numbers aren't what I'd like them to be. We can't fight the battles we're given if we play like the FBI," Nikita told him as they walked, "Operations would just love to hear me say that. I have some ex CIA here, a lot of Agency staffers, 20 Section One ops, a tech support team from the Agency, and a few people here under duress from George. One of them is working for George in exchange for her family not being deported back to China. I don't know how he thinks we're ever going to succeed when he expects us to run it this way."
"What happened to your arm?" Darren asked as he walked her into Med lab.
She shrugged out of her coat carefully, "I got hit in the fire fight five days ago."
Darren hissed, when the blood soaked bandage was revealed under the coat. The Med lab staffer grimaced, and started to cut away the bandage.
"Michael and Walter took turns cleaning it, it hasn't gotten infected, but it's not healing either," Alexandra told him, slipping her fingers into his.
"Because they're cleaning inside the wound," the Med lab staffer told her, "In the field, they're doing the right thing. It keeps draining, it's staying clean. I'll close this up now, but you're not gonna be able to do a lot with that arm for a few days."
Alexandra hissed when the anesthetic shot went in, and turned her head away as he stitched the flesh, letting go of Darren's hand just in time. She distracted herself by examining his face, letting her eye's travel down his body.
"I can't believe you're here, and alive," she said quietly, reaching up with her good hand, and brushing her fingers on his face, rubbing her thumb across his goatee.
"The infamous boots, did you have plans for the evening when Section was attacked?" Darren asked her.
"Yeah," Alexandra told him, her hand trailing down his arm, "I go dancing, I drink lightly or not at all, I go home solo. Sometimes Gayle and Birkhoff go with me. Walter's volunteered to be my chaperone a few times. Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"
Darren sighed, "I almost did . . . I almost emailed you one night . . . but I didn't want to risk Operation's temper - I thought - what if he really does cancel one of us . . ."
"I need to get you an antibiotic shot," the Med lab staffer told her, and disappeared through one of the back hallway doors.
Darren leaned towards her, and pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her hungrily for a few moments, then stepped back, glancing back at the door the medical tech had left through. He took her hand in his, "A day hasn't gone by where I haven't thought to you Alex. I'd even thought about running, and contacting you . . ."
She managed a half smile, "We wouldn't last as long as Nikita and Michael did - did you hear that Max and Regi ran?"
Darren nodded, "Yeah, they're suspect for giving up Section One right now too."
"Nope, no way," Alex told him, "They offered to take me with them. I didn't think I had the motivation to stay alive, to keep running as hard as they'll need too. Max found a few swollen glands, he tested positive for HIV. They'd been doing the nasty with Jonathan of all people - so you know who was in the hot seat when they ran. They left a detailed email message with Birkhoff - telling them about how they both tested positive, and how they'd been with Jonathan - I had to be tested because I treated Max a few months ago - but I came up clean."
They heard a the door latch clicking, and Darren stepped back a little, and watched the medical tech give Alexandra the shot, and a bottle of antibiotics to take for the next ten days.
"Nikita has a room for you here - with a shower," Darren told her as she hopped off the gurney, "or do you want to get something to eat first?"
"Out of deference to everyone else's nose, I'll take a shower first," Alexandra told him as they walked down the hall.
He turned down two more hallways, and finally pushed open a door, "Here ya go."
It looked just like her section quarters.
She yanked off her boots, tossed her jacket on the bed, pulled her leggings and panties off, the crop top followed, and she stepped into the shower, mindless of the Darren was still standing there watching.
"Are you gonna watch me or join me?" she asked him starting to rinse out her hair.
Darren didn't need anymore encouragement. He yanked off his clothing, and stepped into the shower with her.
Alexandra was working the shampoo into her hair, and she felt his fingers start to massage her scalp. She dropped her hands, closing her eye's, letting the sensations take her. He started in the front, slowly working his way back, to end massaging the back of her neck. He reached for the soap, and started to massage her back with the suds, kneading her tense muscles. But it was anything but relaxing. The ache disappeared from her back, to be replaced with another, different kind of ache, deep inside the core of her being. Slowly he worked down her back, seemingly not hearing her soft moans of pleasure as he went. He moved down her buttocks and legs, working around her legs as he came back up again. Gently he turned her, and started to work on her arms and shoulders. She gasped and moaned when his fingers found her sensitive nipples, his thumbs working circles around them, tormenting the hardened peaks. Then his hands moved down her stomach, toyed with her pierced navel for a moment, then farther down, sliding between her thighs. His fingers parted her labia, finding the sensitive bud and stroking it, until she had to cling to him to keep her balance.
"I want you inside me," She moaned into his neck, clinging to him. Darren had one arm around her waist, holding her up, and he lifted one knee, pinning it between his hip and she shower wall so he could have better access to touch her.
Darren grasped his now swollen shaft and rubbed the tip between her now parted labia against her hypersensitive clit, "Is this what you want?" He asked huskily.
"Yes, Please," she moaned, nipping at his neck.
"Do you know how many nights I lay awake, dreaming of doing this to you," He whispered in her ear, slowly easing the tip of his cock into her sheath.
She was slick and ready for him, her muscles grasping him tightly. Darren held himself back, only allowing an inch to penetrate her.
She moved her mouth to his chin, looking up at him, "What's . . .?"
He kissed her mouth, and pulled back out, and then eased in, only an inch, then did it again, "Is this what you want?"
"More," she gasped, grabbing his hips, trying to pull him in deeper.
"Easy Red," he told her, pulling her hands up to his chest.
He pushed himself a little farther into her, "How about this much?"
"More!" She demanded.
Darren chuckled, and slowly, with each measured penetration, sheathed himself deeper inside her. Finally, he lifted her up, pressing her back into the wall, lifting her knee's up so he could get as deep inside her as possible. Carefully he stroked, until her body shuddered around him. He felt his own climax about to come, and pulled out, letting himself spill onto the shower floor.
"What?" she gasped, watching him finish himself of with a few strokes of his own fingers, "You . . ."
"I don't want to come inside you," Darren said, kissing her mouth, "No condom."
"I get depo shots," she reminded him.
"And how many antibiotic shots over the last couple days?" Darren cupped her cheek, "I swear to god I'll get some condoms."
"God I want a cigarette," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.
"No more cigarettes," Darren told her, nuzzling her neck, "I don't like the way they taste."
Alexandra chuckled, "Oh, and you think you're gonna be tasting me so much?!"
"As often as I can querrida," Darren said in her ear.
They toweled off, and Alexandra got dressed in a sweat suit, and followed Darren down the hall to the cafeteria.
Walter, Gayle, Michael, Birkhoff and Nikita were still there, picking at the remains of their food. Alexandra filled up her plate with some kind of pasta with a meat sauce and a soda, ignoring the knowing looks she and Darren were getting. Both of them had wet hair. She sat down next to Nikita, and looked over at Michael, "Med lab is telling me I had a very clean wound Michael and Walter - thanks for the daily brillo scrub."
"I wasn't that rough," Walter complained.
Alexandra shot him a look that said, 'Wanna bet?'
"So when do we go after these guys?" Alexandra asked after a few minutes of wolfing her food down.
"Tomorrow morning we go to Paris, and pick up a few people we think might be involved with Legion," Nikita told her, "George has deprioritized just about everything. Larry is taking over the two missions that we can't put off himself."
Darren looked up at Nikita, "I hope they're easy ones."
Nikita shook her head, "Easy enough - and I need to get going and work on the profile for Paris."
"I'll help you," Michael told her.
"Hey - can I wander the streets? It's been a long time since I was here," Alexandra asked, watching them leave.
"Not today, we can't risk the chance that someone maybe looking for you, or anyone else from Section One," Nikita told her, "I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the station."
"Bummer, OK," Alexandra sighed, "I'm dying for a this fried chicken they used to have down in the Pike Place Market . . ."
Alexandra looked over at Walter, and the group of them watched Michael and Nikita leave, wondering at the thoughts in their heads.
"I think we have that covered," Nikita said, sighing and closing her eye's. She sat up after a moment and looked over at Michael, and found him watching her.
"Can you see any other options?" Nikita asked him.
Michael shook his head, "None."
Nikita looked back at the holo display, " 6 years ago, I could barely do basic math . . . now I play with lives . . ."
She clicked off the holo display, and punched in a code, and a door slid open. Her personal quarters in Section Three were off of her office. She slipped her fingers into Michael's, and pulled him towards the tiny room.
It was sparten to say the least. A bed, a metal dresser, a small bathroom off the bedroom. A small closet.
Nikita hit the button so the door closed behind them, and gently pushed Michael towards the bed. He sat down, and she stopped in front of him. She kicked off her pumps, and peeled the T-shirt up and off. Next came her slacks and panties. She moved towards him, and Michael's hands grasped her waist as she straddled his legs.
She brushed her lips across his, and they started to kiss. Slow, gentle, tasting, but only for a few moments. The kiss picked up pace, until it was hungry, needy, passionate. Nikita started to tug at his shirt, and Michael yanked it off, and turned her on her back.
"Tell me you're taking birth control still," Michael said huskily yanking his sweat pants off.
"Yes," Nikita told him, sitting up suddenly. She pushed Michael back, and ran her tongue down his stomach, and swiftly took his swollen shaft into her mouth.
Michael moaned, letting his head loll back. He'd learned a long time ago to let Nikita play when she wanted to play. He'd been taught by section to please his partner. He'd learned that pleasing someone gave him a lot of pleasure. It was the same for Nikita.
He felt her rub the tip of his cock along the roof of her mouth, as far back as she could comfortably take him, her teeth barely grazing him. As she pulled back, she sucked, increasing the pressure the farther out he went, then back in, her tongue stroking the base and the sensitive tip.
After a few minutes, he started to fight to hold himself back.
"Nikita," Michael said huskily, his accent harder to hide now that he was aroused.
She ignored him, continuing his slow torture.
Michael was really struggling now.
"Kita," he groaned, "Please stop
She paused, looking up at him, "So don't."
Her warm mouth took him in again, and she increased her strokes with her tongue. He pulled her hand up to his chest, and Nikita rubbed her thumb across his hardened nipple. A few moments later, his release came, and Michael cried out. He pulled her up, holding her body close to his as he body trembled. But only for a moment.
Nikita knew what he was intent on doing when he pushed her on her back. He kissed her mouth, and started to move down slowly, branding her flesh with his lips. He teased each hardened nipple with his lips and tongue. Nikita felt the heat pooling inside her rise with each stroke of his tongue, coiling inside her. He moved lower, pausing at her navel, flicking the ring that he'd once found irritating, now it was arousing, something wanton.
He reached the apex of her thighs, parting her moist folds of flesh with his tongue, Michael searched out and found her sensitive bud. He stroked with his tongue, suckled, even nipped gently, until her body was convulsing under him.
Nikita felt all the tension and heart ache fly from her body as Michael moved over her, still touching and caressing her gently as he sheathed himself within her. His arms slid under her back, his hands cupped the back of her head, and his mouth descended upon her. His kiss was hungry but not ravaging, and he whispered in her ear, "I missed you Mrs. Deveroux."
Continue on to From the Ashes . . .