Toxin
By Kimberly
Nikita followed Michael closely. She watched around them, in front, behind, the sides, above and below, just as he did. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. It was habit. A good habit. He didn't have eye's in the back of his head. That's what partners were for. He paused, and she did, even though she wasn't looking right at him. She just . . .sensed it, per se. They had that little connection. A glance spoke volumes. Body language transcended the spoken word, especially in situations like this.
She heard the tell tale clicking sound as he carefully turned the door knob. Then, he flung it open and they leapt into the room, moving to opposite sides, covering the entire room.
But there was no threat. Nothing in the way they were expecting at least.
Nikita lowered her gun, and frowned, taking in the sight before her. There were three bodies, one laid on the sofa, one slumped over a small table, the other was slumped in an easy chair.
There was no blood though. No stab wounds, no bullet holes, no obvious trauma wounds to indicate cause of death.
However, they were all very yellow, and very bloated.
"Yuk," Nikita said after a moment and peered closer at the one slumped over the table. He had some kind of yellow looking fluid draining out is ears and pooled into some thick gooey mass on the table, his head resting in it.
Michael found the same bizarre drainage on the other two bodies - ears, nose, in the bodies open mouths, their pants were wet and soaked with it. It seemed to seep out of any orifice.
" Michael, what is this stuff?" Nikita asked, walking around the body on the table, "Kinda smells like . . . tropical fruit."
"I don't know," Michael answered honestly, and turned to get a look at the other body in the chair. While he took in the details of the ooze, the coloring, Michael realized the fluid was still oozing, still draining.
"Get away from the body Nikita," Michael said standing up, and pulling his cell phone out of his coat, and closing the door.
Nikita did a she was told, and moved back over the closed door.
She listened as Michael called for a team to recover the bodies in biohazard suit, and told Section One that He and Nikita would need to be put in quarantine.
"Damn," Nikita swore quietly, after Michael hung up the phone.
Michael looked over at her, "What? Did you touch anything?"
"No!" she said defensively, "I had a hot date tonight!"
She could swear that she almost felt Michael bristle.
Your social life can wait," Michael told her, and was silent for a few minutes.
"With who?"
Nikita shrugged, "Alex is going to a rave tonight, I was going to follow her. I'm worried about her - and Darren is making his rounds of the clubs too. I worry about how hard they play."
Michael walked over to look out the window, "Better a legitimate club than a Rave. I only knew about the one - why does she keep going?"
Nikita sighed, "That's why I wanted to follow her, to find out what she does."
Michael didn't answer. Alexandra had come in to Section, late one night, or early one morning, from one of those parties. Reeking of cigarette smoke, and emitting a strong mint odor from what Michael was sure was half a canister of binaca.
She'd seemed a little unsteady on her feet, going down the stairs, but he hadn't had time to question it. She'd had three hours to sober up . . .
"Is this becoming a problem?" Michael asked after a minute.
"No," Nikita answered quickly, too quickly, then, "I hope not at least."
Darren watched as the biohazard suited up recovery operatives moved body bags, and Michael and Nikita, also suited up, into separate quarantine rooms. He'd waited around once he'd heard that they might have been exposed to something nasty - just to make sure they were OK. Not that he could do much for them, but he felt better knowing he'd at least be there.
"We should moon Michael while he's stuck in quarantine," someone behind Darren said.
Darren grinned, and turned to join in the conversation.
"Problem is, he'll get out, and he doesn't get mad, he gets even," Darren added, "But if you do, let me know, so I can get his expression on film."
They all chuckled a little bit.
"Hope that shit isn't contagious," Max, a tall, large built man said.
Darren looked over at the man who'd become a friend. Max had at least 10 years on him, his voice a rich deep sound, his accent betrayed his origins - the Caribbean most likely. He was by far the darkest skinned person Darren had ever met, but he was also one of the kindest, and as loyal as Nikita and Alex.
"Oh, Miss Red, you do not look like a happy woman today," Max said, his deep voice somehow managing to stay quiet.
Alexandra sighed, " I'm a little tired, does it show?"
"You're walking and moving slower than your normal," Darren told her, "You hear about Michael and Nikita?"
Alexandra's expression become serious, "No."
"They're in quarantine. Their targets were dead, some kind of yellow ooze coming out of them. No one knows what it is yet," Darren told her.
Alexandra blinked once or twice, "Did they eat in the cafeteria here maybe?"
Everyone around them laughed for a few moments, and Alexandra made a show of looking over her shoulder to make sure the kitchen staff wasn't within hearing distance.
Michael pretended not to notice the people watching him through the glass. He had a lap top, and reports to do. It wasn't that he didn't mind them, they bugged him really. But showing it would draw more of them. He felt like a lab rat or a freak on display at the carnival. It occurred to him that he almost was. He was well aware of his reputation, his status, at Section One. Seeing him sick, or hurt, affected quite a few people.
He wondered how Nikita was doing. She was probably making faces and gesturing to the people watching her, having a good time with it.
He heard a rapping on the glass, and ignored it. Whoever it was rapped again, and again, and again. Finally Michael looked up and saw four bare butts in a row along the window.
He blinked, surprised, but his mask slipped into place again, and he went back to his typing, and ignored all the hoots and howls in the hallway out side.
Nikita heard all the hoots and howling and wondered what on gods green earth they were doing to Michael next door to warrant so much reaction in the hall.
She'd been writing notes and holding them up the glass, talking with Alexandra for the last hour, so she asked what was happening.
Alexandra wrote back that four of the guys had just mooned Michael, and Darren was getting a picture of Michael's expression with Birkhoff's help.
Nikita laughed and wrote back that Madelaine and Operations must have been in a meeting somewhere.
Alexandra nodded back, and then nodded to someone behind Nikita.
Nikita had heard the biosuited tech enter the room, but she was tired of this already, so she wanted avoid the tech as long as possible. They'd want more blood and more cell scrapings.
Nikita wrote that she'd be back in minute, she had to go feed her vampire.
"How's she doing?" Darren asked Alexandra walking over.
Alexandra shrugged, "She's fine, she's bored though."
"Maybe they should moon her too," Darren said, motioning to the guys to come over, and get ready.
Alexandra stood back out of their way to watch, and Darren disappeared back to Birkhoffs station.
Nikita looked up to see the row of butts, and grabbed her pad of paper, and wrote a big 0 on it, giving them a negative rating.
Alexandra burst out laughing.
Then Nikita wrote that she liked men, not boys, and held that up for them.
That elicited more howls and hoots, and someone called down the hall that Madeline was on her way down.
Everyone's pants were yanked up quickly.
After three days, Michael and Nikita were released, and summoned to Madelaines office immediately.
Nikita was still running a comb through her hair when she stepped through the door, and took a seat next to Michael, across from Madelaines desk.
"So what caused the deaths?" Nikita asked, as she sat down.
"A still unknown toxin. We've isolated it, but it's nothing that we've seen before. The bodies you found were dead for approximately 3 hours, estimated from body temperature. Our scientists believe that the toxin was given to them in something they ate. It doesn't appear to infect airborne, but on something ingested. Death occurs in two hours. With injection, the results are a bit faster - half an hour.
"Do we have an antidote yet?" Michael asked.
"Not yet," Madelaine answered, "But the potential threat here is something we can't ignore. We need to find out who poisoned them, why, and what they're going to do with that poison next. If that toxin were to make it into the water supply . . .
"This could be a biological weapon then," Nikita answered.
Madelaine nodded, "It could be used that way, yes."
Darren couldn't believe what he was seeing. That had to be Alexandra, but she wasn't acting like Alexandra.
The Alexandra he knew was sedate, all business. Always on top of her game, and never out of control.
When she'd been going to these clubs, acting this way before, it had all been part of a plan, a mission that she and Darren had designed and implemented on their own.
But here she was, again.
The redhead Darren was watching on the dance floor was way out of control. He'd watched as she downed a shot of tequila, and moved out onto the dance floor with the tall Hispanic man. She danced as hard as she drank too. Bump and grind, showed off her long legs, her flexibility . . . it was damn near soft porn, Darren thought.
She had on a snug crop top and short tight skirt, all a satiny blue, and high heels that were all thin straps and heel. Her hair was down, the mass of curls shining in the club lights.
At one point in the evening, he was close enough where he could see a small ring in her naval. That was a new thing, he thought to himself. That, or she'd kept it well hidden. He was about to walk over and say hello, but something told him not to. He didn't think she was on an assignment . . . but she wasn't acting like the Alex he knew. The Alex who had no last name, the Alex that worked so damn hard to be the perfect Section One operative. The same woman who didn't feel she had a right to a normal life.
That Alex wasn't sharing this part of her life with Section One. Darren couldn't see his way clear to intrude.
But he hung back in the shadows, watching mesmerized. He was supposed to be meeting Caterina and her group of friends here tonight. He spent some time with them, and when the decided to go to another club, he made some excuse to go home, then slipped back inside to wait - and watch
Then it happened. She stopped and reached for her pager, it had obviously gone off. Darren felt his own pager vibrate a moment later. He didn't have to look to know that it was Section One calling. Their Cell phones were off so it automatically forwarded to their pagers.
She said something to the two guys she'd spent her evening with and turned and walked for the door of the club.
There was no way she'd not see him now so he decided to play if off like he'd not seen her at all that night.
He walked out the door, and saw her looking for a cab.
"Alex?!" Darren called, "Is that . . . It is you!" he said, walking up to her.
She was visibly deflated. She sighed, "Yeah, did you get a page?"
He nodded, "yeah, I've got my car here - do you want a ride?"
She nodded and followed him over to his car and got in. She reached into her purse for a canister of some minty breath freshener stuff.
She gave herself a few squirts and put it back in her purse.
"You OK?" he asked her after a moment.
She nodded, "Yep - I didn't see you in the club." Out with Caterina again I see . . . she though jealously
"I didn't see you either," he said, "not that you're easy to miss. I like your outfit. You look good."
But not as good as Caterina . . .
She looked over at him and smiled a little, turning her gaze back out the window, "I was hoping this wouldn't happen tonight."
Darren turned his car into the garage, and parked it.
"Darren," she said, "Can you smell any alcohol on me?"
Darren gagged when she blew her breath in his face, "Holy shit Alex! Death by mint! How many squirts did you give yourself!"
She smiled little, "Just enough . . . do you need any of this?"
He shook his head. He'd only had one drink.
"Don't breath on anybody," Darren told her, "How much did you have to drink?"
She shrugged, "I'm fine. I will be by the time we get anyplace at least."
She pulled her heels off, so it would be easier to walk. She swayed a little bit, and took a deep steadying breath, and fought herself to walk straight and steady, into section one.
Darren watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was growing paler by the minute.
"Alex?" he said softly, watching her hand move to her stomach.
The elevator door opened, and she bolted out on unsteady legs, racing for the bathroom.
She almost dove through the door, passing Michael in the hallway. then continued towards Darren.
"Is she OK?" He asked Darren.
Darren drew in a deep breath.Answer and say it quick buddy . . .
"She was crossing her legs hopping up and down in the elevator, I think she really had to go," Darren lied. That was lame . . .
Michael knew he'd just been lied to. Darren suspected that Michael knew he'd just been lied to.
He could forgive this lie, this time. He was protecting someone, another operative, a friend and even if Michael couldn't condone it by Section One's standards, he could understand it by . . . he hesitated to name those standards as his.
They both turned and headed for the briefing room.
Nikita met Alexandra in the hallway. Nikita had been woken up from a deep sleep. Alexandra had obviously not been sleeping. She had her heels in one hand, a small purse slung over her shoulder, and she was spraying more mint spray in her mouth.
"Late night," Nikita said as the redhead met her, and they turned for the briefing room.
Alexandra nodded. She didn't want to open her mouth to much, "Yep."
Nikita watched her trainee's step. It was a little off, but not bad. Nikita knew instinctively that Alexandra had been drinking, and probably a lot. She'd seen Alexandra shake off the effects not sleeping, pain and hunger with ease.
Nikita grabbed her arm before they opened the door.
"How drunk are you?" Nikita asked her, right out.
Alexandra took a deep breath, and exhaled it away from Nikita's face, "I'll be ok, really. It will be at least two hours before we get anyplace anyhow."
Nikita winced. A strong mint smell on her breath, to cover the alcohol, "Stop at 10 squirts next time Alex."
Alexandra nodded, "I just gotta avoid opening my mouth, or sitting next to Madelaine."
The briefing room was full. Alexandra and Nikita stood in the back and Alex took very controlled shallow breaths.
"As many of you know, we discovered an unknown toxin last week," Operations began, "That toxin could be used as an instrument for mass murder. Mr. Birkhoff."
Birkhoff hit something on a remote and typed in something on his keyboard and a picture popped up, "This is Lawrence Blackball. He's had a lot of contact with the three men Nikita and Michael found dead, a result of our mystery toxin. He's been manufacturing synthetic drugs which the three dead bodies had been distributing. He worked out of this lab with this man, Joey Correnti."
Another picture came up.
"We think they're manufacturing the toxin in this lab. We don't know if it was an accident or not," Birhoff told them, "The lab is closed at night. The alarm is small time, we can deactivate it remotely from the van. Once inside . . ."
A schematic came up, "the lab can be reached by entering here. All the SIMS tell us that this is the best entry way. The only other possible exit is here - too cumbersome, but you might want to know it's there. There shouldn't be any alarms on the actual lab."
"You need to get in, take samples of everything they are working on and get out. Don't leave any trace that you were there. We don't want them to know we were there," Madeline finished.
A back up team would be waiting just in case, spread out around the building, to watch, enter if necessary.
They were changed into their gear, and in the van in 10 minutes. The lab was an hour away.
Nikita caught up with Michael before he got to van.
"Put Alex in the surrounding pattern," She told him quietly.
Michael locked eye's with Nikita for a moment, and they both stepped into the waiting van.
"Nikita, Darren, Max and Rico, you'll enter the building. The rest of you will take up surveillance positions surrounding the building," Michael told them, "I'll monitor from the van."
Alexandra looked up. Surveillance? She was never put on surveillance when Nikita was in play, unless Nikita was doing a role. Nikita was still training Alexandra afterall, and this would be a perfect scenario for that too.
Alexandra looked over at Darren, who was probably thinking about the same thing, and then up at Michael, who looked back at her briefly.
I'm going to be flayed alive for this . . .
Nikita didn't look at her at all. She was looking at the computer screen.
Alexandra spent two hours in a bush, sobering up and very nauseated. The whole mission went off without a hitch. They got the samples, got copies of all the notes and were out, leaving behind nothing to suggest they'd been there, except a deactivated alarm for an hour. Birkhoff would fix that though.
The next night . . .
Michael opted to keep his jacket when he stepped through the door. Giving up his jacket meant giving up his gun, which, even here, he was not willing to do.
He paid his entrance fee at the door and moved to the end of the landing, surveying the crowd. He wasn't trying to hide so it didn't matter that he stood out, well in view. He turned down a beer as he passed the bar and spotted her in the middle of the throng of bodies on the dance floor.
She was wearing a black outfit tonight. Thigh high boots, short black tight skirt, skin tight crop top. She had the body for it, and Michael somehow suspected Nikita might have been involved in that outfit. Her red hair was down, a mass of bouncing curls. She wore a lot of makeup, but it didn't look to trashy. Madeline had taught her well.
Michael thought back to the first time he'd seen Nikita after her little makeover . . .
Nikita was doing surveillance tonight, supervising what was essentially a training exercise for the men. Madeline was concerned that the men of Section One weren't keeping their softer skills up. Nikita had been asked to help supervise, so she'd asked Michael to tail Alexandra.
As Michael watched, Alexandra downed three more beers, and grabbed two more, and headed over in his direction. Michael had known he'd be spotted eventually, but he expected to know it when she saw him. He hadn't.
Without saying a word, she slipped an arm through his, handed him the beer and leaned in close, "What the hell are you doing here?!"
She was yelling in his ear so he could hear her. Michael could barely make out the words.
The music on the dance floor changed to a slower song and Alexandra dragged him out, looping on arm loosely around his neck. Michael moved gracefully and by unspoken tacit agreement they kept several inches between their bodies.
"Nikita sent you, didn't she," Alexandra said, and gulped down the last of her beer.
Michael didn't answer her for a moment, "Is there a reason she'd do that?"
Alexandra laughed and slipped away from him, "They don't own me all the time!"
She'd called out her last statement, putting the crowd between them. She slung her arm around the neck of a man Michael had seen her with earlier. She said something in his ear and he got up. He lead her to the door and outside.
Michael stepped out behind them after several seconds inhaling fresh air. He watched the redhead getting into the other man's car.
Going home with a stranger . . .
Michael memorized the license plate number, and walked back towards his own car.
Two nights later . . .
It was five am when they arrived back at Section One. They went through debrief, and just as Alexandra though she'd get to go home and go to bed, Michael was walking up behind her, and passing her, "My office, Now."
Alexandra sighed. At least there wasn't anyone around to witness this. She'd been put on surveillance again. They'd sprung another mission at the last minute.
Nikita stood with her back to the wall, behind where Michael's chair was. Michael had closed the blinds, and turned off the lights. Nikita didn't question him. But she knew what was coming. Alexandra was about to learn another lesson - the hard way.
The redhead knocked once, and pushed the door open. Stepping through. Michael's hand shot out, grabbed her upper arm and yanked, his foot lashed out, sweeping her legs.
Her body swung around and she gasped, flailing in the dark She was not able to see. But instead of dumping her on the floor, Michael held onto her arm, stopping her fall inches from the floor.
He turned, and flipped on the light.
"You should have been prepared," he said.
She sat up, and shook her head, and watched as he kicked the garbage can at her, "If you have to puke, do it in there."
She groaned, and lay back on the floor.
"I would have rather had you up there tonight," Nikita told her, "You're no good to anyone if you're too drunk to perform. You put your life in danger if let yourself become intoxicated."
Nikita watched a the redhead gazed at the ceiling.
"What makes you think I give a shit if my life is in danger?" Alexandra asked quietly. Nikita saw Michael's lip twitch.
"Get up," he said calmly, his back to her. She sighed audibly, and sat up. But she didn't move fast enough. Michael turned, yanked her up off the floor and put her up against the wall, feet dangling.
"You do not have the option of not caring!" He yelled, " It's the lives of the other operatives, the lives of the innocents we protect!"
"Then fucking cancel me!" She yelled back at him.
He lowered her to the floor, and shoved her towards the door, "No, you don't get the easy way out. Go change. You have ten minutes to meet me in the gym."
Nikita drew in a deep breath after Alexandra had staggered out of the room.
"You're going overboard," Nikita told him, "What purpose does abusing her now serve?"
"To make an impression," Michael told her, "I was just as hard on you."
"I was never afraid that you were going to hurt me though," Nikita told him.
Michael paused before he walked out of his office, "She isn't afraid of me Nikita."
Alexandra knew shed been forgiven when Michael pulled her up off the floor, and held onto her while she steadied herself on her feet, even when she tried to jerk her arm around of his grasp.
She passed Darren in the hallway, he was heading back towards the gym.
"Jesus, you're back early, when did you get up?" he asked her.
She shook her head, "I haven't been to bed yet."
Darren looked at her, "Alex, what are you doing?"
She sighed, " Getting my ass kicked all over the gym by Michael. He was a little pissed at me."
Darren managed a smile, "do you need a ride home?"
She shook her head, "I'm gonna crash in my quarters here. I think we'll be moving on these guys as soon as we have something from research."
Nikita was occupying her chair in Michael's office, when he returned.
"Haven't been to bed yet I see, " Nikita said quietly, typing on her laptop, which she setup back to back with his.
"No," he said, and typed in a few commands on his keyboard, "Research doesn't have anything on those samples yet, other than synthetic drugs."
"How is she?" Nikita asked him, without looking up from her screen.
"Angry and resentful," Michael told her, " What else is going on with her 'Kita?"
Nikita sighed, and leaned back in the chair she sat in, balancing it on two legs. In her head, she heard the distant voice of an old teacher, telling her to sit normal, but she ignored it.
"She's feeling restrained and controlled so she's rebelling. She's been denied the normal life of a young woman just going out into the world - and I'm sure she doesn't care if she lives or dies. She's like you. Unable to forgive herself for the sins of the past," Nikita told him, "No matter how many live you save now."
Michael didn't respond for a moment.
"We can't allow her to be willing to forfeit her life. She's becoming a good operative - but she'll find her self in abeyance quickly if Madeline or Operations see this weakness."
Nikita watched his face, "What convinced you?"
He had turned his gaze down to the computer screen, he didn't look up at her when he answered, "Madeline gave me a reason to live - I was responsible for keeping someone else alive - someone who deserved much better than they got." She made me responsible for you Nikita . . .
"It's common knowledge here that we save the lives of the innocent," Nikita reminded him.
"Use Darren," Michael answered, "He's good, but he's not as good as she is. Make her responsible for keeping him alive and going. He's very openly emotionally susceptible."
Manipulate her, the way you did me so many times . . . but it kept me alive, and kept you going, didn't it Michael . . . .
Nikita hated what she was about to do. She always promised herself that she'd never use another person's feelings or emotions the way Michael had hers. Now she had to break that promise. She knew it was effecting a greater good, but it still grated against her - she was doing just what she'd hated and resented for so long.
She also knew that Alexandra was equipped to handle the task she'd have to do today. It was easy for Alexandra to justify the death of someone who was responsible for the deaths of others. Darren was still having a hard time pulling the trigger, unless provoked. Nikita had been like that. She still was, but she could do it now.
Nikita watched and counted operatives piled into the van. In a few hours they'd be in New York. Once they were there they'd all take their assigned locations and wait. They'd all look like just regular people dressed in street cloths. Everyone thought the target would pass by through the front entrance first. They'd fall out, follow him and grab him and bring him in.
In reality it was a hit. He wouldn't walk in through the front of the hotel. He's come in through the back, by the service entrance.
Nikita had already told everyone where they were going to be waiting and watching. They all knew what to look for.
"Alex," Nikita said quietly, once she'd gotten the redhead aside for a moment, "I'm sticking you with Darren because I'm worried about him. He's still having trouble pulling the trigger - and if something happens, I don't want him to end up in abeyance."
The redhead nodded a little, "He's getting better."
"Not fast enough to suit Madeline and Operations," Nikita told her, "I was where he is for a long time. I know he'll get there, but I had someone watching out for me - just keep your eye's open, just in case. We can't let this guy get away."
Alexandra gave a little nod. Nikita got up and moved to the front of the plane.
New York . . .
"So what happened to you that morning?" Darren asked her, as they waited in the back alley, just in case their target ran that way.
Alexandra rolled her eye's, "I got bitched out, and he worked my ass out until I dropped."
Darren shrugged, " I think one or two drinks is probably ok."
She nodded, and looked over at him, "I had a bit more than one or two drinks though."
I know you did, I was watching . . .
"What was the lab like?" Alexandra asked him.
Darren shrugged, "It was a lab. We found twelve different compounds. All being white and powdery. Lots of journals, but nothing about our mystery toxin."
"That whole thing is shaping up to be an accident," Alexandra said to him, "The yellow skin coloring tells me the toxin wasn't kidney friendly, the ooze could be contaminated plasma, but . . . who knows? Plasma doesn't ooze out your ears so readily either."
"Change of plans." Michael's voice was suddenly heard, "Our target is moving down to the back door. Darren, cancel him."
Alexandra and Darren exchanged looks.
"We don't want to bring him in?" Darren asked, through the transmitter.
"No, cancel him. A clean up crew is already on the way," Michael said.
Alexandra and Darren moved to opposite ends of the alley, to take cover and be in a position to fire.
Even though it was Darrens hit, Alexandra had her gun out. Darren could miss, there were always things that could go wrong.
The back door opened, and their target strolled out flipping a disk in the air and catching it.
Alexandra saw Darren, aim, and hesitate . . .
The target was going to make it out of the alley.
Alexandra stepped out and fired twice, two silent cough's from her silenced gun.
The man fell, the disk falling with him.
Alexandra jumped out, scooped up the disk and put it in her pocket.
"Why did you do that?!" Darren demanded, "I almost had him!"
Alexandra shook her head, "You hesitated and he was almost out of here, help me."
They dragged the body back behind the dumpster.
Alexandra ejected her magazine, "Give me 2 bullets."
"What?" Darren asked.
"You took the guy out, you're missing two bullets," Alexandra told him.
"No," Darren said, "I couldn't do it, you shouldn't have to cover for me."
Alexandra grabbed his gun out of his hand and ejected the magazine. She took two bullets.
"You are being watched as closely as I am. You're going to end up in abeyance if you can't do the job Darren - and we both know your too good at everything else to be there," Alexandra told him, and handed him back his gun, "You shot him twice in the chest, you were standing where I was, I was where you were. That's our story."
"Alex, I'm not going to let you-"
She grabbed his arm, "Yes you are, because I'm a step out of abeyance right now, and if you blow up my lie, I'm dead."
She turned, and jogged out of the alley.
"Shit," he kicked at a rock, and shoved his gun back into the waist back of his jeans.
Nikita waited and watched for Darren to come out of debriefing. He and Alexandra should be done any minute now and Nikita had to put phase 2 of her plan together. She had Alexandra thinking about keeping Darren out of trouble. While Nikita had been agonizing over the fact that she was manipulating Alexandra, it occurred to her that Darren would probably figure out something was up. She'd have to tell him.
The door opened and Alexandra walked out, then Darren, a few behind her.
"Hi Darren," Nikita said, falling into step with him, "How'd it go in there?"
Darren shrugged, and grinned, pulling his hair out of the pony tail, "Ah . . . it went. It was a debrief. They picked at our reports, we explained it over and over, and now we're done . . . for now."
Nikita nodded, "I always hated debriefs, I still do I think."
Darren had slowed their pace so they were now stopped at the juncture of hallways.
"Is Alex in serious trouble?" Darren asked.
Nikita looked over at him. She'd been facing the direction of the connecting hall.
"What makes you think she'd in trouble?" Nikita asked him.
Darren sighed . . . tread lightly buddy . . . "Something she said . . . and I know Michael worked her hard after yesterday's mission."
Nikita nodded, "She's . . . not in trouble with Operations."
Darren sighed, " 'Kita, that doesn't say much. Sometimes I think Michael's the worst one to cross."
Nikita kicked at an imaginary rock on the smooth concrete floor, "Michael's not angry at her, I'm not . . . but I am worried."
Darren crossed his arms over his chest, "About what?"
Nikita looked up at him, and around. It wouldn't do to have someone wall up on them.
"Her state of mind," Nikita said, "She's taking unnecessary risks . . . I don't think her life means that much to her."
Darren shook his head, "It doesn't . . . and I can't convince her otherwise."
Nikita sighed, "But she does care about what happens to you . . . even if she shouldn't."
Darren looked at Nikita suddenly, "You told her to cover for me!"
Nikita nodded, and put a finger to her lips, "I needed to give her a reason to not let herself be killed. You make a very good reason. You trained together, you're good friends."
Darren laughed a little, shaking his head, "So what do I do, purposely screw up often when she's there? She'd not stupid Nikita."
"No, just lean on her a bit."
Darren was quiet for a moment, " You would be so pissed if Michael played this kinda headgame with you."
Nikita sighed, " I was pissed, but I appreciate the fact that he did it, to save my butt. If you can't do this, let me know now, and I'll find some other guy and push her into some kind of relationship . . ."
"No!" Darren said, " That is the last thing in the world she'd go for right now, trust me! I'll do it, just . . . don't narc me off, Ok?"
Madeline found Nikita sitting in her office, on one of the sofas, her knees were drawn up and her head rested on her arms, face down, as if she might be napping. It was rare that Nikita sought her out, so Madeline knew something was really bothering her.
Madeline sat down in the chair across from her and said softly, " Nikita? What's wrong?"
Nikita looked up. It struck Madeline that she looked tired, worn out
"I did it, I hate myself for it, but I did it," Nikita told her, her voice muffled a little.
"What did you do?" Madeline asked her asked her, getting up and pouring two cups of tea.
"I've manipulated both Darrens and Alexandra's feelings to get an end result out of them," Nikita told her accepting the cup of tea, "And I feel so guilty."
Madelaine sat back into the overstuffed chair, " Because you resented it when it was done to you."
"Yes," Nikita responded.
"What emotions are you playing off of?" Madeline asked her, "Manipulation is a dangerous game. It can backfire on you. It did on us when we had Michael doing it to you, on more than one occasion."
Nikita smiled a little, "It backfired only because I was pissed off when I found out."
Madeline nodded slowly, and sipped her tea, "But it only worked because the emotions of the two players were real."
Nikita rolled her eye's for effect, "I don't want to go there Madeline."
The older woman smiled, "Ok, back to Darren and Alexandra then. What have you done specifically?"
Nikita sighed, "Darren hesitates, like I did. Alexandra is watching out for him, so she has a need to get through this funk she's in. I have Darren worried about this funk she's in, so he'll push himself that much harder."
Madeline nodded, "But you haven't asked them to withdraw these . . . things, at any particular time."
Nikita shook her head, "No - I haven't. I'll wait, until things have changed."
Madeline set down her cup of tea, "Or you could just let it be. I don't see this as a manipulation - not in the terms you're placing it. Leave it alone, they could become a very good team."
Nikita nodded, "I know that - but it could also backfire on me. If they discuss it, they'll be pretty pissed. Both of them have pretty hot tempers."
Madeline refilled her cup, and added more to Nikitas, "As I'm sure you know, we gave them to you with Michael to assist you to train you to become a mentor here. Alexandra is a lot like Michael, but she doesn't have the rigid control over her emotions. She may never develop it. Darren is much like you were when you came to us, except . . . more resigned to his fate. At some point, if it hasn't happened already, both of them will rebel, and you'll have a hard time reigning them in. There will be times when they'll hate you for it."
Nikita sipped at her newly refilled cup, "How do you control rebellion, curb it, so it doesn't get them killed."
Madeline smiled, "That's just it, you control it. Give them a little rope, let them burn off the steam, and reign them in. Let them win a little bit. Don't belittle or discount their feelings. The feelings are valid. Section One isn't fair. It isn't a nice life. But it wasn't mean to be either. It's the life sentence we all earned. But it doesn't have to be all bad either."
I didn't earn my way here . . .
Nikita nodded, "I need to go. Thankyou for the tea, and the ear."
Madeline nodded, and felt more satisfied than she had in years since she'd spent any time talking with Nikita.
Nikita stepped out of Madelines office and smiled to herself. Her bases were now covered. If Madeline were to find out about anything she'd told Darren or Alexandra, her bases were covered.Manipulate the Manipulator . . .
Michael was in play this time, while Nikita was in charge of the mission. Just one more aspect of Nikita's training. Some day she'd fill his position, whether it be due to his death or a promotion into another position for him. He looked forward to neither one. It was simply something that he knew would eventually happen.
They had received intel that Blackwell and Correnti were meeting someone in the park today. Section One was hoping that the someone was whomever was the financial backer in this synthetic drug enterprise.
"I see one of them," Darren said, "Correnti's sitting on a park bench, making out with some brunette woman."
Michael had to smile a little at that. Correnti wasn't real concerned about watching out for himself obviously, or he was just smart enough to let them think that.
"Try to get a good picture of the woman," Nikita said, "Birkhoff, are you receiving?"
"Yep, putting on quite a show too, I think he's reaching up her skirt!" Birkhoff said.
"Her face boys," Nikita reminded them, "Darren, can you walk by and get a closer look at her face?"
"Ok," Darren said, and started to move.
"Ryan, move over east to cover the spot Darren was in," Nikita said into the transmitter.
Darren strolled by, realizing that the woman and Correnti were not going to come up for air. He wasn't going to get a look at their faces by just walking by.
"God damn it!" He yelled at them, "Michelle! How could you?"
He reached out and grabbed the woman's shoulder, pulling her back from the embrace.
She looked right up at him, startled, and Correnti jumped to his feet, "Who the hell do you think you are!" Correnti demanded.
Darren groaned, "Oh shit! I'm sorry, I . . . I though you were someone else -" Darren looked at the woman, "My girlfriend - she just told me yesterday she's pregnant, and she's not sure if I'm the father - and hell, she looks like you, from the back that is."
Darren sighed, "I am really sorry, I . . ."
He shook his head, and backed away.
"Did you get that Birkhoff?" Darren asked, once he was out of ear shot.
Birkhoff was beside himself, laughing in the van. Nikita was grinning too.
"The whole show," Birkhoff answered, "lets clean this up and Id our mystery woman."
Nikita watched over Birkhoff's shoulder and felt her blood run cold. She'd seen that face before. In a pile of pictures Michael wasn't supposed to have.
Nikita switched off her transmitter, and Birkhoff's, "Don't clean that up, she isn't our cash flow."
Birkhoff looked up at her, "What?"
"She's Michael's sister Birkhoff," Nikita told him, "Section will eliminate everyone who had contact with this. Do you think Michael won't find out? The transmission was to fuzzy, you lost the image in a computer glitch."
Birkhoff hesitate, and typed in a few commands. He hoped Nikita was right about this. The image fogged up, and disappeared.
"We lost the transmission," Birkhoff said, into his transmitter.
Darren groaned, "Well, Hell, I can't go back now, I'll look like a bigger dork than I already do!"
"Three piece suit, walking their way now," Max said, his rich voice crystal clear - even with is accent, " Tall, white, probably European, black suit, looks expensive, isn't watching around himself . . . he has boys doing it for him, a few steps back and head it looks like."
"Darren get out of there," Nikita said, "You'll draw attention to yourself if you're watching. Max, can you get in for a good facial shot?"
"Hold on," he said and was silent for a few minutes, "Birkhoff."
"Got this one . . . I think," he said, looking up at Nikita for a moment.
She looked, and nodded, and mouthed, 'Thankyou.'
"Hold your positions," Nikita called to them.
"Got him," Birkhoff said, " Give me a few moments to get an ID."
Nikita, and everyone else in the park waited in anticipation. If they got a positive ID on him, they could trace where he was making his money, possible find the motivation behind the toxin, find a perspective target.
"Brent Calderwood," Birkhoff announced, "Stock Broker, big time investor, a lot of old family money."
"Want us to bring him in?" Max asked.
"No, lets tail and tag him if we can, and do the research first," Nikita told them, "Max, you and Alex get him for the first 8, everyone else, come in."
Birkhoff cut the transmission, his voice grave, serious, and a little worried, "How do you know that's Michael's sister Nikita?"
Nikita sighed, "I've seen her picture is all, just forget it. I don't know how I'm going to handle it yet."
The back door to the van opened, and Darren climbed in, "Are we going on rotating 8 hour shifts with this guy?"
Nikita nodded, "Probably - you and Regi will take the next 8."
Michael climbed in behind him and caught Nikita looking at him for a minute, thinking. Then, as if she realized what she was doing, she looked away. The rest of the operatives piled in and they were off, and headed back to Section one.
He didn't say anything to her then, but waited until they were alone in the hallway, outside of the bay doors.
"What were you thinking, back in the van," Michael asked her.
Nikita sighed, " Honestly, I was wondering how you'd handle a situation."
Michael kept his eye's moving, to see who was or was not watching them "You handled it well."
She smiled a little and kick at an imaginary rock, letting her hair fall forward a bit.
She looked up at him through the thin blonde curtain after a moment, "Michael, if you recognized someone with a person you were doing surveillance one, and that someone was a friend or relative of someone who is in the Section, what would you do?"
He sighed, "It depends on the risk of exposure . . . this mission has to come first."
She frowned, her expression saying she didn't like his answer.
"If I could safely remove them, and keep it unknown, I probably would," Michael added, "Was there someone you recognized?"
"Only for a moment, it wasn't him though. Looked like him at first, but it wasn't, it just made me think is all," Nikita lied to him.
Michael watched her face for a moment, and nodded a bit, "We should report in."
"Yeah," she said, agreeing half heartedly. She turned away from him and started down the hall, leaving Michael to wonder if Nikita had just lied to him - afraid to analyze it.
When Nikita wasn't going over data about their targets, she was busy following Correnti, in hopes of spotting Michael's sister, Sarah. It was on the 2nd day, late at night, when she was back outside Correnti's apartment and Sarah walked out, at three in the morning and got into an older sedan. Nikita followed her to another apartment, where Sarah spent the rest of the night.
Nikita planted a very small charge just on the edge of the rim on the tire, between the tire and the wheel well and jimmied the trunk open. Ske slashed the spare tire, and planted a tracer.
Nikita would grab her sometime when she was out during the day, offering her a ride after her car broke down, drug her and hide her, just before they brought in Correnti. She'd release her after it was all said and done. Michael would be none the wiser, and Sarah would be safe.
"We have the Intel we need," Operations said, as he strode into the briefing room, " Calderwood has some very dangerous vices. The two men Nikita and Michael found infected with the toxin crossed Calderwood several weeks ago."
"So they were poisoned," Nikita said, glancing at Michael, "But we haven't found any more of the Toxin yet."
"Bring all three of them in, we'll question them here, and retrieve any stores they have after they've given us the location."
Nikita and Michael left the briefing room, and head for Birkhoff's station.
"We need a location on Correnti, Blackwell, and Calderwood," Michael told Birkhoff, watching Nikita sneak one of Birkhoffs oreo's.
Nikita winked and Michael, and stood behind Birkhoff, chewing as quietly as she could.
"Right now, they're all spread out, but we have Intel that a dinner party is taking place at Blackwells house tonight, Correnti will be there, Calderwood might too - we could get all three of them at once," Birkhoff said, turning to look up at both of them. He frowned when he saw Nikita suddenly stop chewing, and looked pointedly at his bag of oreo's.
"How did you ever pass your training . . ." he said under his breath, " I'll start a SIM . . ."
Nikita took a deep breath, after swallowing, "I have a real quick thing I need to do, I'll back in half an hour."
She turned, and headed down to med lab, to steal a sedative. Sarah would be at work right now. Nikita would have to stop her there.
The restaurant where Sarah worked wasn't that far from Section One, which surprised Nikita. Sarah had been there for about a year apparently. For one year, she'd been so close to her brother, and they'd never crossed paths. . . .
The hypodermic Nikita had stolen from medlab contained a sedative that would knock out a small adult for twelve hours. Nikita had it in her hand, hidden by the sleeve of her jacket, and she watched, and waited, looking for an opportunity. Several times, Sarah walked in and out of a supply closet by the bathrooms, pulling out stock for the rest rooms.
Nikita walked back, waited until no one was sitting or standing where she could be seen, and jammed her hand over Sarah's mouth, shoved the needle in her arm and pushed the plunger down. Sarah struggled for a moment, and then went limp.
Nikita stepped back, closed the closet door, and left the restaurant, and deactivated the tracer she'd placed on the car.
Hours later . . .
"I wonder what happened to the girlfriend?" Darren said out loud, watching as Correnti, Blackwell and Calderwood were lead, struggling down the hall for interrogation.
Nikita almost winced, " I think she was just some chick he picked up - we didn't see her any place else."
"She's a loose end," Michael said, coming up behind Nikita.
Nikita bit her lip, " We never did get a good look at her though - Darren, you wouldn't recognize her again, if you saw her . . . right?"
Nikita mouthed NO, so Darren could see it.
"I doubt it . . . it was just a brief glimpse . . . she wasn't that remarkable," Darren said, and yawned, "I hope this debrief doesn't take long."
He turned and started down the hall, leaving Michael and Nikita alone for a moment.
"Who was she Nikita," Michael asked her after a quiet moment.
Nikita shrugged, "I have no idea."
She started down the hall, leaving Michael behind.
Michael thought about the tracer Nikita had placed, and deactivated today. She was protecting someone . . .
He trusted her intentions, but he'd feel better if he knew for sure that whomever had been spared deserved to be spared. He followed her down the hall and decided that once they had the location of the remaining stores of the toxin, he would follow up on the locations the tracer had been. If she truly was an innocent, unaware of what had been going on, Michael would leave well enough alone. If not, Michael would take care of it . . . quietly.
Continue on to Rebellious Streak II