Nikita: Killer Moves

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Nikita: Killer Moves

Postby GirlTalk on Sat Nov 20, 2010 5:28 pm

Nikita: Killer Moves

WGA: 1471204


Division is temporarily refocusing their energies away from eliminating Nikita to a joint Op with Mossad, the Israel intelligence agency. For a hefty price, Percy has committed to supplying Mossad with the names of those responsible for a recent car bombing in El-Halilli, Israel that cost the lives of 150 civilians and wounded over a thousand.

Percy is in a heated conversation over the phone when Michael walks into his office.

“I don’t care what you have to do. Get me those names,” Percy barks into the phone. “Let me put it another way. This is Division’s reputation and your life.” Percy slams down the phone and looks at Michael.

“Bad day?” Michael asks.

“Roan is in Hebron interrogating CIA informants,” Percy says as he leans back in his chair and takes a drink of Scotch. “It amazes me how many hunyucks come out of the woodwork when there’s payola involved.”

“What’s he come up with?” Michael asks.

“Ahmed Musof,” Percy offers. “Every heard of him?”

“No,” Michael comments. “That’s a new one on me.”

“There’s an extremist born every day, Michael,” Percy glibly offers.

“So tell me we have him?” Michael cavalierly asks.

“Oh yes,” Percy says. “That’s the easy part. Roan grabbed him last night. Now getting him to talk is another matter.”

“Roan’s better at the kill,” Michael offers. “You know that.”

“That’s why I’m sending you to Gaza,” Percy says. “I want you to motivate him to get the names.”

“Amanda’s our lead interrogator,” Michael reminds him.

“I can’t spare Amanda right now,” Percy shoots back.

“What’s your priority, Percy?” Michael snaps. “Mossad or Amanda’s obsession with Alex?”

“The girl is hiding something,” Percy snaps back. “Until we know what it is, she’s a threat. Either Amanda clears her or you eliminate her. I’m fine either way.”

Michael gives Percy a cold stare.

“I have complete confidence that you and Roan can resolve this situation,” Percy says. “If not, kill him.” Michael looks confused.

“Which one?” he asks. Percy just gives him a smile then looks down at some papers on his desk.

“You can leave now,” Percy dismisses Michael without looking up. “I’m sure you have packing to do.”

Michael stares at Percy for a moment and then leaves.


The phone rings and Nikita jumps.

“Hello,” she answers without checking the caller ID.

“Hope I didn’t wake you,” says the voice on the other end of the line. Nikita immediately sits up in bed.

“Owen. Where are you?” she asks.

“I’ve got one of the boxes,” Owen teases. “But you already know that don’t you?”

“What now?” she asks.

“I’ve got a lead on another box,” he says. “I can’t get it but I’ll bet you can.”


The US military base on the outskirts of El-Halilli has been deserted for over two years now. The sight of the C-17 landing at the facility is almost surreal. The plane taxis around and stops at the edge of the runway. Michael steps out of the plane.

He is uncharacteristically dressed in military fatigues and carrying a duffle bag. He climbs into an awaiting military jeep and heads northeast past El-Halilli. The drive is long and the desert is hot and dusty.

Michael catches himself thinking of Nikita. His anger toward her for preventing him from killing Kasim has passed. His epiphany came when he realized what it must’ve taken for her to find him when he was Kasim’s prisoner. He wonders what Beth would say about his suicide mission in Yemen. She would undoubtedly defend Nikita’s interference.

His false pledge of loyalty to Division after the Yemen trip seems to have appeased Percy; at least for now. He can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Division hadn’t tried to take Nikita during the sniper attack on Kasim.

Suddenly, Michael’s cell rings. He pulls the phone from his duffle bag and answers the call.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Percy asks.

“I prefer surf with my sand,” Michael answers.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there,” Percy says. “I need you in Washington on Friday.”

“What?” Michael says, frustration in his voice.

“Mossad has requested I come to Tel Aviv personally,” Percy states. “And I never say no when millions are at stake. That means you will need to represent Division at the Senate Appropriations Committee dinner.”

“So I’m here why?” Michael asks.

“I still want you to impress upon Roan the importance of this mission,” Percy insists. “I’ll be there tomorrow before my meeting with Mossad and I expect results.” Percy hangs up.

Michael looks frustrated as he closes his phone and shoves it back in his duffle bag.


Nikita hasn’t been able to go back to sleep since Owen’s call. It’s 5:54 a.m. She sits down at her computer and logs on. Just as her applications open, a message pops on the screen. It’s Alex.

Are you there?
Nikita replies
Yes.
Alex quickly responds.
Michael’s gone and I can’t find any information on where he is.
Hearing of Michael’s absence from Division gives Nikita a twinge of anxiety. She replies.
What about Percy?
Alex sends another IM.
Percy’s here but behind closed doors.
Nikita replies.
It’s definitely an Op. Probably something big. I’ll see what I can find out.
Alex responds.
What should I do?
Nikita answers her.
Just keep your eyes open. I have to go away for a few days. But I’ll be back soon.
Alex replies.
You okay?
Nikita responds.
I will be.
Nikita logs off her computer. She walks over to her cache of weapons, grabs her Glock 23 and clicks the cartridge release button. The cartridge drops into her hand. It’s fully loaded. She slams it back into the butt of the gun. The sound of the cartridge snapping into place echoes through the room. She slips the gun into a packed suitcase on the floor. She picks up her cell phone and types a text.

Miss me?

She clicks send then tucks the phone in her pocket. She grabs her suitcase and leaves the safe house.


Amanda is determined to find out exactly what Alex is hiding. Her new goal is to expose Alex as a security risk and a candidate for elimination. If Amanda finds evidence of deception, Michael will have no choice but to cancel Alex. Amanda gets pleasure from thoughts of hurting Michael and from eliminating Alex. Her jealousy for the girl runs as deep as her jealousy for Nikita.

“Alex,” Amanda calls out from the balcony overlooking the mess hall. Alex is sitting with Corey, a new recruit, and Jaden. She looks up when she hears her name.

“What could she want?” Jaden interjects.

“Maybe she wants to brush my hair,” Alex says sarcastically. She stands to leave.

“Hey, don’t trust anyone,” Corey calls to her
.
“I never do,” Alex says as she walks toward Amanda.


Night falls as a military jeep makes a fast stop outside an abandoned Israel military checkpoint on the outskirts of Gaza. Michael jumps out if the jeep and looks around the immediate area.

The old stucco building is dark and dusty. Michael pulls his Glock 27 from his waistband and releases the safety. He leans on the outside wall, opens the door, and peers around into the room. It’s empty. There’s a door in the back of the room. A light shines through the hinges. Michael quietly moves toward the door. He slowly turns the knob and rushes in this his gun drawn. He sees Roan sitting at a card table enjoying a dinner of C-rations.

“You’re late,” Roan complains. “And you missed dinner.”

“I’ve eaten,” Michael says as he tucks the gun in his waistband and looks around the room.

Michael sees Ahmed Musof sitting in the middle of the room. His head bobs back and forth on his shoulders. He is barely conscious. Ahmed’s hands are bound behind his back and his feet are tied to the legs of his wooden chair. His face is unrecognizable from the beating Roan has dispensed.

Roan is the consummate cold blooded killer. He is completely devoid of emotion. His work as a Cleaner for Division was exemplary. Percy was so impressed, he elevated Roan’s rank to Tactical Specialist.

“And actually, I didn’t come here for the food,” Michael comments. “I assume you have the information.” Roan stands up and tosses his trash in a box in the corner of the room.

“Close,” Roan sheepishly adds. “I’m thinking of bringing in his kid as motivation,” Roan whispers to Michael. Michael gives him a stern look.

“The body count continues to climb around you,” Michael growls at Roan. He is at odds with Roan’s methods. He hates that they are often partnered on these types of protocols.

“Part of the job,” Roan says cavalierly.

“Do what you want to him, but no kid,” Michael snaps.

Roan goes back to his prisoner. He grabs Ahmed’s hair and pulls his head up to look at Roan.

“Ahmed,” Roan barks at the man. “How old is that little boy of yours.”

Ahmed opens his eyes and looks at Roan. He musters the strength to spit in Roan’s face. Roan jerks back and draws his gun to fire. Michael lunges at Roan and they both fall to the ground. Michael smashes Roan’s hand to the hard cement floor. Instantly, the M9 Roan’s clutching falls from his hand. Michael quickly gets back on his feet pulling Roan up at the same time. He tightens his grip around Roan’s collar.

“We’re not done here,” Michael threatens. “Get more creative. You’ve got less than twenty four hours so I recommend you come up with some names.” Roan regains his composure and Michael lets him go.

“I’m due back in the States” Michael tells him.

“Short trip,” Roan says smugly. “Now why exactly did you come?”

“Obviously, Percy is questioning your ability to complete this mission,” Michael says. Roan’s face turns red with anger.

“Interesting,” Roan snaps. “Is he also questioning your loyalty for a certain rogue agent?”

Michael runs at Roan smashing him into the wall of the interrogation room. Michael’s gun is drawn and pointed at Roan’s head.

“Careful, Roan,” Michael threatens. “You’re as good as dead if you don’t complete this mission. It would be easy for me to tell Percy I found you in this bunker with a bullet in your head.”

Roan takes a deep breath but says nothing. Michael lets him go.

“Percy’s meeting with Mossad tomorrow,” Michael continues. “I recommend you don’t screw this up.”

Michael looks over at Ahmed one last time and leaves.


The island of Maui is unbelievably beautiful. The white sand beaches look pure and untouched. The light breezes that blow through the palm trees carry the scent of orchid and salt water. Nikita stands in front of the open sliding glass door of her cabana breathing in the island air. She grabs her hat, sunglasses, cell phone, and a romance novel and heads to the hotel pool.


It’s almost midnight when Michael boards the C-17 heading to Cairo. There are several other men on the cargo plane all heading for parts unknown. Michael stretches out on the floor of the plane, his head resting on his duffel bag. His curiosity gets the best of him. He sits up, unzips the bag, and rummages around for Nikita’s phone. He’s not sure what motivated him to bring it. He was right. She has texted him.

Miss me?

Michael smiles. He types a reply.

I plead the 5th.

Several minutes go by without a response. He throws the phone back in his bag and lays back down for a nap.


“Have a seat,” Amanda suggests to Alex.

Alex suspiciously looks around Amanda’s studio. Finally, she sits on a cushioned bench in the middle of the room. Amanda sits opposite her in a wing back chair.

“Alex, I’m glad we could get some time together,” Amanda begins.

“That makes one of us,” Alex snaps. Amanda considers how to respond.

“That hurts my feelings, Alex,” Amanda says coldly.

“I doubt it,” Alex shoots back.

“Alex, I know this is not the ideal life for you,” Amanda continues. “You would’ve much rather been able to be a child with a family; a more conventional life. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. You need to make the best of your current situation. It is, after all, better than your life in the sex trade.”

“Not by much” Alex says.

“I believe it would be helpful to visit some of your memories from the past,” Amanda begins.

“Why?” Alex impatiently asks.

“Something in your past is preventing you from making this life successful,” Amanda says. “And there are no alternatives to failure. If you’re not with us, then …” Amanda trails off.

“I’m fish food, right?” Alex interrupts her.

“I promise you’ll be safe,” Amanda says. Alex is suspicious.

“You’re right,” Alex offers. “I’m sure buried deep inside I have some dark secret. But it’s not bothering me so why’s it bothering you?”

“I’d like you to submit to hypnosis,” Amanda recommends ignoring her question. Alex suddenly becomes anxious. She jumps up from the bench.

“You’re nuts,” Alex says as she heads toward the door.

“Fine,” Amanda says as she slowly stands and walks back to her desk. “I’m going to recommend to Percy we administer sodium pentothal in a controlled environment. That should assist in collecting any undisclosed information that’s causing you pain.”

Alex realizes she needs to backpedal. Otherwise, she’ll be vulnerable. If Percy finds out about her relationship with Nikita, he’ll kill her himself.

“I’d like some time to think about it,” Alex softens. She wishes she could talk to Nikita.

“Of course,” Amanda replies. “Come see me tomorrow afternoon and let me know what you decide.”


“Thank you,” Nikita says to the waiter as he hands her a drink.

She takes the Piña Colada, retrieves the straw from the mound of frozen liquid and takes a sip. She lays back on the chaise lounge and feels the warm sun on her skin. The pool at the Grand Wailea Resort is crowded with tourists. Nikita picks up her book and flips to find the last page she read. She is startled by the sound of her cell phone vibrating to signal the receipt of a text. She checks her phone. Two messages. She opens the first from Alex.

Now Percy’s gone. Just thought you should know

The second message is a response from Michael to her “Miss me?” text.

I plead the 5th

Nikita replies back.

Thank you

Michael, now in a black business suit, shirt, and tie, is walking to his gate at the Cairo airport. It’s 2 a.m. in Cairo and the airport is virtually empty. He hears Nikita’s phone ping to signal a text message. He arrives at the gate and settles into a seat. He opens her message. Then, he types a response.

For?

Nikita takes another sip of her drink and her phone rings with the arrival of another text. She reads the text from Michael and types a reply.

Forgiveness.

Michael smiles and responds.

Anyone trying to kill you today?

Nikita replies.

That depends. Where are you?

Michael answers.

Time to hide. I’m heading home

She likes knowing he’s safe. She replies.

Good luck finding me

Michael smiles. His plane is now boarding. He turns off the phone and tucks it in his coat pocket.


Nikita stares at her phone.

“How’s this for a pick up line?” a voice says from the chaise lounge next to Nikita. “You remind me of my mother,” he says.

Nikita looks up from her texting to see the person speaking. The man, in his early thirties, is tall, medium build with dark tan skin. His black wavy hair falls in no particular order around his head.

“I’d say it sucks.” Nikita offers. The man smiles at her.

“But my mother’s beautiful,” he says with a twisted smile.

“Do you really meet women this way?” Nikita asks.

“Or at gun point,” he offers. “My name’s David.” He holds out his hand to shake hers but she doesn’t move.

“Mine’s not,” she says with a smile and returns to reading her book.

“You’re going to make me really work for this aren’t you?” he asks. Nikita just ignores him.

“Fine,” he continues. “But just so you know I’m not claiming defeat yet.” Nikita looks up at him with another smile but says nothing. David walks around to the other side of the pool and disappears into the crowd.


Roan, now alone with Ahmed in the abandoned bunker, is tasked with securing the information from his prisoner. Ahmed is covered in cuts and bruises. His eyes are swollen shut, his jaw is broken, and there is blood oozing from his ears.

“We’ve been at this for three days,” Roan says. “And still all you can do is mumble about Islam.” Ahmed laughs at Roan.

“You are wasting your time and mine,” Ahmed offers. “I know you will kill me. I just have to wait.”

With that, Roan pulls his gun and shoots Ahmed in the head.

“No more waiting,” Roan says to the dead man.

The limited information Roan has gathered will hardly fulfill the contract with Mossad. Roan is desperate. He frantically tears through a stack of papers on top of the makeshift desk in the bunker. He vaguely remembers some CIA intel about two suspected terrorists - Mehran Omid and Raahal Ehliin. He finds the printout he received yesterday from the CIA. He reads that the men are suspected of passing information but they have not been identified as being involved in the El-Halilli bombings.

Roan makes a decision to indict these men even though he knows they are innocent. He will tell Percy Michael obtained the names from Ahmed. This will be his insurance in case the decision to lie about the information backfires.


Alex enters Amanda’s studio. Amanda looks up from her desk.

“Hello, Alex,” she greets her. “How are you today?” Alex hates Amanda’s fake sincerity.

“Great. Another day is paradise,” Alex snaps.

“Have you had a chance to consider my proposal?” Amanda asks.

“Let’s go with the hypnosis,” Alex offers. Amanda is suspicious. She knows the girl is thinking she’ll beat the system. Amanda will make sure she doesn’t.

“Wonderful,” Amanda says. “Shall we start right now?” Alex is hesitant.

“I’m late for Applications training,” Alex says. “How about tomorrow?”

“Fine. 9 o’clock then,” Amanda replies. Alex backs out of the room watching Amanda. Just before she reaches the door, she turns and leaves.


The afternoon sun is warm on Maui. Nikita drops her surfboard on the sand as she pulls her hair into a ponytail. Then, she grabs the board and runs out into the surf. She climbs on the board and begins to paddle out among the waves. She positions herself facing the beach and waits along with the other surfers for the perfect wave.

Before she can catch any action, she hears a faint voice crying for help. She looks around on the beach and sees nothing. She then looks behind her. Out beyond the reef, she sees someone calling out and bobbing in the under current. Quickly, Nikita jumps off her board and swims as fast as she can to the person calling for help.

Finally, she gets within arm’s reach and grabs the man. She places him in a rescue hold and swims back to shore. Once on the beach, she calls for help. The resort lifeguards come running once they see someone in need of assistance. Nikita backs away as the lifeguards provide aid. A crowd forms around the man. After about five minutes the man is helped to his feet. He appears to be fine. Nikita can’t believe her eyes. It’s David. He comes over to where she’s standing.

“Surprised to see me?” he asks Nikita with a smile. She is furious. She turns and walks out on the beach to retrieve her surfboard.

“Okay, call me a dick,” he says following her. “But I should get points for creativity.”

“You should be arrested for stupidity,” Nikita yells over her shoulder.

She grabs her board and runs back into the surf. She again swims out to await the perfect wave. Several times Nikita catches waves back to the beach. Then she returns to the surf for more.

After a few hours she comes back to shore and sees David lying on one of the hotel lounge chairs. She walks out of the water, drops her board on the sand, and grabs her towel to dry off. She avoids looking at David. He’s not giving up. He walks over to where she’s standing.

“I know you’re ticked,” he offers.

“I don’t get ticked, I get even,” Nikita says still not looking at him. “And you don’t want to be around when that happens.”

“You sound wicked. I think I love you,” he says with a big smile.

Nikita gathers her things and starts to walk up the beach. He follows her.

“Just so you know, I do have some redeeming qualities,” he says.

“I can’t think of one,” Nikita shoots back.

“Well, I don’t wear socks with sandals. I know how to use a napkin. And, I’m a Secret Service agent,” he says. Nikita stops and studies the man.

“Should you be telling me that?” she asks naively. “Isn’t there some kind of spy code or something that prevents you from sharing that information?”

“Yes so in order to protect my secret, you need to have dinner with me,” he commands. Nikita sighs.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re persistence is annoying?” she says. He just smiles.

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

“Yes,” she responds.


Alex lies down on the couch in Amanda’s studio. She can hear some kind of New Age music playing very low in the background. It’s dark but there are candles placed in several different locations around the room.

“I want you to close your eyes,” Amanda suggests to Alex. Alex complies.

Amanda walks up behind her.

“Now just relax,” she says.

Alex tries to appear comfortable. Amanda pulls a syringe from her coat pocket. She clicks her finger against the syringe to check the level of the liquid and then without warning, plunges it into Alex’s arm. Alex jumps up but Amanda has already pushed the plunger, emptying the liquid into Alex’s vein.

“What the hell are you …? Alex trails off as the serum takes effect. Amanda lays her back on the couch.

“Just something to help you relax, Alex,” Amanda continues as she tosses the needle on her desk. Amanda slowly walks around the room.

“Can you hear me Alex?” she asks.

“Yes,” Alex whispers.

“Tell me, Alex,” Amanda continues. “What’s the last thing you remember before coming to Division?”


Nikita is beautiful. Her black princess cut dress fits perfectly. Her hair is in a soft braid and her skin is sun kissed from her day of surfing. She walks into the restaurant and the Maître d’ greets her.

“May I help you?” he asks.

“I’m meeting David Inouye,” she says.

“Yes, right this way,” the Maître d’ says as he takes her to David’s table.

David stands when Nikita arrives and helps her with her chair.

“You clean up nice,” David tells her. Nikita smiles and she sits.

“Thank you,” she offers. The waiter brings her a glass of wine.

“So does being in the Secret Service help you pick up girls?” she coyly says.

“Definitely,” he answers. “My father talked me into it.”

“So you could pick up girls?” she asks as she sips her wine.

“No. My father is Daniel Inouye, the Senator from Hawaii,” he proudly shares. “He thought it would be a good government career for someone with no interest in politics.”

“Isn’t he the head of the Senate Appropriations committee,” she asks.

“How could you possibly know that?” he asks.

“CNN,” Nikita says with a smile.


Percy’s private jet arrives at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. He deplanes and slips into a black limousine. Roan is waiting for him in the car.

“Did you get what I asked for?” Percy asks. Roan smiles.

“Yes, everything you asked for,” Roan replies.

“Good,” Percy says. “This is going to be a very productive trip.” The car speeds off into the night.


“I remember a bridge,” Alex whispers as she lies back on the couch in Amanda’s studio. “And burning barrels. Smells like rotting food and sweat.”

“Where do you think you are?” Amanda asks.

“I don’t know,” Alex cries out. “It’s cold and dark.”

“What else do you remember about that time?” Amanda questions.

“I was at a crack house and someone helped me,” she says.

”Who?” Amanda pushes.

“I can see her face,” Alex continues. “She looks like an angel.”

“Did she help you rob the bank, Alex?” Amanda asks.

“The bank?” Alex questions.

“Do you remember killing someone at the bank?” Amanda continues.

“No,” Alex begins to cry.

“Alex, who helped you at the bank?” Amanda snaps.

“My friend,” Alex offers.

“And who was your friend?” Amanda continues getting visibly agitated. “I need a name, Alex.”

“Aaron,” Alex whispers. “It was Aaron.”

“Aaron Engel?” Amanda presses. “Your dealer?”

“Yes,” Alex finishes. Amanda walks to her desk and picks up the phone.

“Talk to me.” Birkhoff quips on the other end of the line.

“I need you to do some detective work for me,” Amanda seductively says into the phone.

“Anything,” Birkhoff says.

“I want you to look into Aaron Engel,” she says. “Find out what he’s up to now. Also, find everything you can on Alex’s bank robbery trial. I want to know why she didn’t take Aaron down with her.”

“I’m on it,” Birkhoff offers and hangs up the phone. Amanda looks over at Alex. She’s fallen asleep.


Nikita quickly passes through airport security. She gathers her things and heads to her gate. On the way, she stops at a bookstore in the terminal and searches for a new romance novel.

“I know it’s the age of technology but a text goodbye was kind of Tiger Woodish don’t you think?” a voice calls to her. She turns to see David standing before her.

“I thought this was a vacation with no complications,” she tells him.

“I thought so too. Then, I got your text and decided to make it messy,” David says. Nikita gives him a slight smile.

“Do you want a kidney or something?” she asks.

“Go with me to Washington.” he says.

“Why would I do that?” she questions.

“Feel like a party?” he continues.

“David, I’ve got to go,” she says and she slips out of the shop and toward her gate. He rushes after her.

“Wait,” he says. “I know this is insanity but I’m going to the White House for some Senate dinner. I’d love for you to be my guest.”
“My flight for New York is leaving in forty five minutes,” she says as she continues walking. “There’s no time.” He takes her arm and pulls her to a stop.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he pushes. “Just say yes.” Nikita appears to struggle with the decision and then gives in.

“Fine,” she warns. “But no strings, understand?” David smiles and nods yes.


The drive to CIA headquarters is painful in the D.C. traffic. Michael has a twinge of guilt over what he’s about to do but he can’t help himself. Finally, he pulls up to the front of the building and parks. He quickly passes through Security, walks to the bank of elevators in the building lobby and heads to the fourth floor. Once on the floor, he turns left and heads down a long corridor. At the end of the corridor, he enters a door that reads ‘Surveillance Operations’.

The room is dark and cluttered with an array of mainframe computers, desktops, laptops, servers and enough cabling to circle the globe at least once.

“Hello,” Michael calls out.

A man wearing a headset and eating from a bag of Cheetos steps from behind a tower of machines. He is heavy set with a scruffy beard and wire frame glasses. He is wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt that reads “Goodlooking Revolutionaries Wanted”.

“Hey, Michael,” the man calls out with a smile. “Long time no see.”

He walks over to Michael and holds out a Cheeto stained orange hand for Michael to shake. Michael looks at the man’s hand for a moment and then grabs hold.

“Sludge,” Michael says. “You’re looking paler than usual. Maybe if you got some sun you could get a girl.” Sledge laughs.

“I’m sure you’re not here to give me dating advice,” he says. “What’s up?”

“You’re very perceptive,” Michael says with a smile. “I need a favor.”

“Lay it on me,” Sludge says.

“I need to know the location in New York City where calls are being placed that come into this phone,” Michael says as he hands Sludge the phone Nikita gave him. Sludge takes the phone and turns it from front to back.

“And you don’t want Jerkhoff to know about it?” Sludge asks. Michael smiles. He’d forgotten about Birkhoff’s nickname in the tech community.

“Correct,” Michael offers. “This is between you and me. And I need the phone in tack when it’s returned.”

“Not a problem,” Sludge says. “I’ve got a little homemade program that should be able to narrow it down to the city block.”

“Perfect,” Michael says. “When?”

“Close of business tomorrow,” Sludge offers.

“You’re the greatest,” Michael says as he turns to leave.

“Tell that to Jerkhoff,” Sludge calls after. “I hacked his precious Shadow Net. He’s pretty ticked at me.” Michael laughs.

“I love it,” Michael says.


“What did you find out?” Amanda asks Birkhoff. Birkhoff, his feet propped up on his desk in Operations, sits up when he sees Amanda walk in.

“Oh, right, well,” he stutters as he gathers his composure and pulls up the information on the screen in front of him.

“She didn’t say anything about Engel being at the bank,” Birkhoff says. “Witnesses did say she had an accomplice but the description was tall, thin build. Engel is six and a half feet about 220.”

“That’s odd,” Amanda says. “Did the police ever question Engel?

“No,” Birkhoff continues. “They had no reason to. She never named him as being at the bank. Engel was picked up on a drug trafficking charge several months after the bank robbery. He’s a three striker. Been at Riker’s for the past 18 months.”

“Thank you,” Amanda says and she leaves Operations.


Nikita pushes the shower door open and grabs a towel hanging from a wall hook. She bends over and wraps the towel around her wet hair. The dimly lit hotel bathroom glows in gold candescent light. Drops of water collect on Nikita’s skin like small diamonds. She reaches for another towel hanging on the railing of the shower door. She wraps it around her body. From inside the bathroom, she hears the hotel phone ring. She rushes out to catch it by the third ring.

“How close to being ready are you?” David asks.

“You don’t want to know,” she teases as she digs in her suit case and pulls out a small bottle of a white powdery substance.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby bar,” she tells him.

“I’ll send a search party if you’re not here within the hour,” he jokes.

“I’ll be there,” she says. She hangs up the phone and slips the bottle in her purse.


In his suite at the Fairmount, Michael reluctantly dresses in his black tux for the Senate Appropriations Committee soiree that night. He’s dreading it. He hates the back slapping and glad handing of the political world. He grabs his Glock and tucks it in the back of his waist band. After one more glance in the mirror to check is tie, he heads off to the White House.


Amanda pulls her car into a visitor space at the main gate of Riker’s Island. She walks in the front door. The lobby is stark and cold. She approaches the guard behind the Security desk.

“I’m here to see Warden Mitchell,” she tells the guard who only looks up after she’s delivered her request.

“And you are?” the guard asks. Amanda hands him her Division credentials. He studies them for a moment and then picks up the phone.

“Someone to see Warden Mitchell,” the guard says into the receiver. He pauses to listen for a moment.

“Government,” he continues.

The guard listens for another moment and then hangs up the phone. Just then, the security door behind him clicks open. Amanda confidently walks through. On the other side is another guard. Obviously, in an administrative role, this guard is filing papers in a large file cabinet behind her desk.

“Second door on the left,” she says to Amanda who continues walking.

“Thank you,” Amanda says.


A black Lincoln Continental pulls up to the front of the White House. A team of Secret Service Agents gather by the entrance. One of the agents opens the door to the Lincoln and Michael climbs out. As he ascends the stairs to the White House, he buttons his jacket and adjusts his tie.

The White House reception hall is alive with music and beautiful people dressed in formal attire. Michael walks through the doorway and looks around the room. Hundreds of politicians, wives, political groupies, and media types mull around the large room. Michael needs some liquid attitude adjustment. He walks straight for the bar.

“Double Scotch,” he barks at the bartender. The bartender quickly passes the glass to Michael. In one single motion, Michael takes a large swallow from the glass.

In the middle of the room is an orchestra playing music from assorted Broadway productions. People crowd the black and white checkered marble floor and dance around the orchestra members.

Michael takes another drink from his glass. He closes his eyes for a moment and enjoys the hot liquid streaming down his throat and warming his body. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. Luckily for him, the liquor is beginning to take effect.

He circles the other side of the room still watching the crowd. A well dressed gentleman walks past Michael, his hand out.

“Michael, good to see you,” he says as he shakes Michael’s hand.

“Warren,” Michael says in acknowledgement and both continue walking. Michael tips up his glass one more time to finish his drink.

Suddenly, he stops. There in the middle of the dance floor is Nikita. She’s stunning in a red form fitting cocktail dress. Her hair is set in soft curls gently pinned about her head. Several strands fall and frame her face.

Nikita doesn’t see him. She is dancing with someone Michael doesn’t recognize. He goes back to the bar and orders another drink. He continues watching Nikita. In one swallow he downs his second drink. He walks over behind Nikita on the dance floor.

“May I cut in,” Michael says to David. Nikita sees Michael for the first time and stops dead in her tracks. David resists letting her go and Michael takes notice of this.

“David, could you get me a glass of wine?” she says rather awkwardly. “I’ll meet you at the bar." She gives David a reassuring look. David reluctantly leaves and Nikita turns to Michael.

“I found you,” Michael says with a smile.

“I’m not armed,” she says cautiously.

Michael looks down at her dress. She doesn’t move. Michael slowly slips his hand around her waist to the small of her back and gently pulls her close. Then, he lifts his other hand and waits for her to place her hand in his. She cooperates and he begins to move her around the floor. They have never danced, but Nikita easily follows his lead.

“You’re not armed in the traditional sense,” Michael finally says.

“It’s the dress,” she says. Michael looks down again at her dress.

“Yes it is. And how about that guy?” Michael asks. Nikita smiles.

“What would you like to know, Michael?” she tests him.

“Friend or foe?” Michael asks.

“Business or pleasure?” Nikita returns the question with a smile. “What about you?” she asks. He pulls her closer.

“I think this might be defined as pleasure,” he whispers in her ear. Nikita blushes.

“So where’s Percy?” she challenges him knowing he would never be this intimate if Percy were there.

“The Middle East,” Michael says.

“Wow, you’re giving away Division secrets,” Nikita adds.

“Do you miss him?” Michael says with a smile continuing to twirl her around the dance floor.

“About as much as you do,” she says. The song ends. Michael stops his movement but doesn’t release her.

“I should get back.” Nikita looks over at David.

“Thank you for the dance,” Michael says as he finally lets her go.

“My pleasure,” she responds and gently touches his arm before walking to the bar where David is waiting.


“Should I be jealous?” David asks. “What am I saying? I am jealous.”

“Forgive me for not introducing you,” she says apologetically. He’s a former employer.”

“He was crazy to let you go,” he says.

“That’s right,” Nikita says as she looks over to see Michael in a crowd of people. She takes David’s arm to glide him on the dance floor.

“I’ve never been to the White House before,” she says as he takes her in his arms.

“They do guided tours you know,” David adds as he begins to dance her around the floor.

“Do you?” she asks with a huge smile.


Amanda is sitting at a table in an interrogation room at Riker’s. The door opens and Aaron Engel walks in accompanied by a fully armed prison guard. Aaron is dressed in an orange prison jump suit and prison slippers. He studies Amanda. He’s suspicious of her motives.

“Do I know you?” he asks before he walks fully into the room.

“No,” Amanda offers and says nothing more. Aaron remains cautious.

“If you’re here to tell me I’m going to Hell, you’re late,” Aaron says with a slight smile.

“I’m here to talk about Stacy Michaels,” Amanda continues. Aaron now knows why she’s there. He pulls out a chair opposite Amanda and sits down.

“She’s dead,” he says in a soft voice looking down at the table.

“Did you love her?” Amanda questions. Aaron is shocked by the question and jerks his head up to look at Amanda. After a moment of studying her face, he answers.

“Yes,” he says his voice cracking. Again he looks down at the table. Memories flood his mind. Then, he looks back at Amanda.

“I can’t imagine why this information is important after this long but yes, I was in love with Stacy,” he continues.

“Did you do the bank job with her?” Amanda asks. Aaron looks uncomfortable.

“Maybe I need a lawyer,” he says.

“I’m a lawyer,” Amanda lies. “I’m not asking you to incriminate yourself. The bank case is closed. You’re already serving a life sentence. At this point, you’ll just be helping Stacy find peace.”

Aaron’s eyes fill with tears.

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t there. She had split. I hadn’t seen her for a few months when I heard she was dead. I don’t know who she hooked up with. No one I knew.”

Amanda believes the boy. She presses for more.

“Was there a woman that Alex knew?” she asks. “Someone that would’ve helped her get clean?” Aaron wipes away a fallen tear.

“No,” he continues. “It was just Stacy and me.”


The bar at the Fairmount is nearly empty when Michael walks in at 11:20 p.m. He sits on a stool and orders a drink.

“Scotch,” he says to the bartender. Then, he looks around at the people in the bar. Two men are sitting on barstools watching a replay of Sports Center on the bar’s TV’s. There’s a couple cuddling in a dark booth in the corner and another couple in a heated discussion about the woman’s misuse of the family credit card. Tonight, Michael decided, he was going to get really drunk.


David walks Nikita over to a crowd of dignitaries that include his father.

“Nikita, this is my father, Senator Inouye,” he says.

“Very nice to meet you,” Nikita says. She holds out her hand.

“Very nice to meet you my dear,” Senator Inouye says as they shake hands.

“David, I’m just going to get another drink,” she says. “Can I get you something, Senator?”

“I’m fine,” Senator Inouye says.

“Then I’ll only be a moment,” Nikita offers and she heads off to the bar.


“Two shots of vodka, please,” Nikita tells the bartender.

A moment later the bartender hands her the drinks. She backs away from the bar and out of sight behind one of the many marble columns in the room. She rests the drinks on a tall table and pours the white powdery substance into one of the shot glasses. She lets the powder dissolve and then walks back to David and his father.

“Here you go,” Nikita says to David as she hands him one of the shots.

“So we’ve graduated to shots?” he asks. Senator Inouye smiles at them.

“Enjoy,” the Senator says.

“It’s a night for shots don’t you think,” she says. Together, she and David down their drinks.


The bartender returns with another drink for Michael. He loosens his tie and takes a sip from the glass. He’s close to being drunk and he never gets drunk. In his line of work, that’s never a good idea. But tonight is different. His chance meeting with Nikita and her date is bothering him. Plus, his thoughts of her in that dress make him even more anxious. He will have a few more drinks. Then he will fall fast asleep and he won’t think of her again until he wakes the next day.


David and Nikita slip quietly down the restricted corridors of the White House. David is a bit tipsy and Nikita’s using that to her advantage.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” David says.

“Just a quick peek. I promise,” Nikita begs. David looks in both directions of the hallway.

“Come on,” he motions for her to follow him. He continues down the hallway and stops in front of the door to the Oval Office. He puts his ear to the door. No sound.

“Only a minute and then we’re out of here,” he says. He opens the door and they slip in. Nikita looks around in pretend astonishment.

“Oh my god,” she says. “This is incredible. I can’t believe I’m here. Look at the rug,” she says and she looks down at the Presidential seal. Suddenly, David feels ill. He doubles over.

“Something’s not right,” he says in obvious pain. Nikita rushes to his side.

“What is it?” Nikita says in a panic.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Stay here and don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back,” David replies. He rushes out a side door.

Quickly, Nikita removes one of her diamond earrings and gently tosses it on the eagle woven into the carpet. She slips the earring back into her purse and kneels down in front of the President’s desk. She runs her hands under the front underside of the wooden desk. She doesn’t find what she’s looking for so she crawls underneath to get a better view at the bottom of the desk. There are two open slats on either side. She slips her hand into the first slat but nothing. She feels into the next open space and pulls out a black box. She looks at it for a moment. Suddenly, the side door opens. She slips the black box in her purse and feels around on the carpet.

“What are you doing?” David asks when he sees her on the floor.

“I dropped one of my earrings,” she says in a panic. David runs over, gets on his knees and joins her in feeling around the carpet for the earring.

“Are you sure it’s here and not at the party?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “I touched it and it must’ve been loose because it fell right off.”

“We have to find it,” David says. They continue to feel on the carpet surface. Suddenly, they hear the sound of a doorknob turning. Quickly, Nikita grabs the earring.

“I’ve got it,” she says as she stands.

“Come on,” she says to David and she grabs him and pulls him out the double patio doors behind the President’s desk.


Michael downs the last of his Scotch and throws several bills on the bar. It’s now 1:16 a.m. He walks out into the lobby. He heads toward the bank of elevators and pushes the ‘up’ button. When the elevator arrives, he steps in and pushes ‘10’ on the key pad. His head is spinning. The elevator dings again signaling its arrival on the floor. A bellhop is waiting to enter when the doors open. Michael slips around the man and into the hallway.

At first he doesn’t notice the numbers on the doors. He is following what he thinks is the path to his room. He rounds the corner and sees Nikita standing in front of one of the rooms. David is with her, his back to Michael. Michael makes eye contact with Nikita then quickly turns and hurries down the hall.

“Night, David. Hope you feel better,” Nikita says as she opens her door and slips into her room. Before she closes the door, she looks down the hallway after Michael.

“Goodnight,” David says still feeling quite ill. He walks down to the end of the hallway and leaves through the nearby stairwell.

Michael rounds the corner by the elevators and sees a sign on the wall pointing to rooms 600 through 683. He’s on the wrong floor. He pushes the elevator button again. Just get me to my room he thinks. The elevator bell dings and the doors open. Michael rushes into the safety of the elevator and pushes the button for the 10th floor.

Michael walks into his dark hotel room and tears off his jacket. He tosses it on a chair and then peels off his tie and cummerbund and lets them land on the floor. Then, he pulls at the small tux buttons on the top of his shirt and reveals his chest. He falls onto the couch and looks out the window at the view of Washington D.C.

A moment later, he decides he’s not drunk enough. He gets up from the couch, walks to the wet bar, and pulls out a bottle of Scotch. He pours a generous amount into a glass, takes a sip and thinks about Nikita.
His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his door. For a moment, he wonders if it could be her. He goes to the door and looks through the peep hole. There’s no one there. He knows Nikita wouldn’t stand in front of the peep hole. Michael’s curiosity is peaked. He opens the door.

Suddenly a fist slams into Michael’s stomach and a knee kicks him in the face. He swings at the bellhop attacking him but he misses. Moments later, a second man runs into Michael’s room. Michael’s attempts to fight off the attack are hampered by the amount of Scotch running through his blood stream. The first man grabs Michael’s arms while the second man punches him repeatedly in the face. Blood drips out of Michael’s mouth, down his cheek, and onto his tux shirt.

The second man pulls out a gun and aims to fire. Before he can pull the trigger, the sound of two bullets passing through the barrel of a silencer whisk through the air. Both men fall to the ground in quick succession taking Michael with them.

Nikita stands in the hallway still aiming at the two men. She quickly shuts the door behind her and rushes over to Michael. It takes Michael a few seconds to gather his wits.

“I’m okay,” he tells her as he gets to his feet. Nikita turns her attention to one of the assailants. She rummages through the man’s pockets.

“You should leave a generous tip for housekeeping,” Nikita says as she pulls out an ID.

“Mohammed Al-Farar,” she reads from his hotel ID. “What do you want to bet he’s not here legally?” Michael bends down and finds the second man’s ID.

“Omar Al-Farar,” he reads. Michael looks at the man’s face.

”I saw him earlier. He was getting on the elevator from your floor,” Michael says.

Nikita looks at Michael and for the first time she sees how badly beaten he is.

“Wonder if Homeland knows about these guys?” she asks.

She goes over to the wet bar and gently places her gun on the counter. Michael walks over to the couch, falls into the soft cushions, and closes his eyes.

“Doubtful,” he says with a sigh.

Nikita takes a towel from the bar and fills it with ice cubes. She walks over to where Michael is sitting.

“Here,” she says. Michael opens his eyes and sees her standing over him offering the towel.

“Thanks,” Michael says as he puts the ice on his visibly swollen mouth.

“Are you drunk?” she asks still standing over him.

“I was,” Michael offers.

“Confucius say ‘man who drink to excess get ass kicked’,” she says with a smile. Michael returns her smile.

“What does Nikita say?” he asks. She falls onto the couch next to him.

“Nikita say ‘man who get ass kicked need new line of work’,” she says as she turns her head to look at him. After a moment, she continues.

“Michael, Percy believed your Yemen story, right?” she asks. “He wouldn’t place a ‘kill order’ on you, would he?” she gingerly asks. Michael just stares at her for a moment.

“That’s an excellent question. One for which I don’t have an answer,” Michael replies.

“We need to find out who these guys are,” she says. Michael hesitates for a moment.

“I wonder if it has anything to do with the El-Halilli bombings?” he asks without providing her with any other information. Now, she knows where he’s been for the last few days.

“Be careful, Michael,” she warns him as she stands to leave. “There aren’t a lot of people you can trust.”

Michael watches her for a moment and then stands as well.

“It’s just a simple identity reconnaissance,” he insists.

“Nothing’s simple,” she says as she walks over to the bar to retrieve her gun. “You know that.”

She walks to the door. Michael follows her.

“Nikita,” he whispers. She turns and he is standing right behind her.

“Why did you come up here?” he asks. Nikita looks into his eyes.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “Premonition maybe.”

After a few seconds, she turns her back to him and opens the door. Michael leans around her and gently closes it. She turns back to face him, her back now pressed to the wall. He moves closer.

“I trust you,” he whispers.

Nikita looks at him for a moment. He’s like a controlled burn. Something is always just under the surface ready to explode.

She takes a step closer and wraps her arms around his neck. Michael doesn’t move at first. Nikita continues to hold him. Then, Michael moves his arms up to embrace her. He closes his eyes and buries his head in her neck. They hold each other for a few moments. Then, they slowly part. Nikita looks at him. She puts her hand on his shoulder and leans in to kiss his cheek.

“If you need me, I’m here,” she whispers.
He bows his head for a moment and then meets her eyes again. He pushes down on the door handle and opens the door for her. Nikita takes one last look at Michael and slips into the hallway.


The sun has been up for hours but Michael is still sleeping in his suite at the Fairmount. He slowly wakes and opens one swollen eye to look at the clock. 11:30 a.m. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair. He hears his cell phone ping with a new text message. Michael picks up his cell phone from the night stand. He opens the text. It’s from Sludge.

I’ve got your info. I’m in. Stop by.


Michael pulls into the parking lot at the CIA and again breezes past Security. He gets off the elevator on the fourth floor and heads to Sludge’s lab.

“Sludge,” he calls as he walks in.

“Here,” Sludge says from behind a stack of computer towers. Michael walks over to see Sludge playing a hacked copy of the yet to be released Call of Duty Eminence Front.

“You know that’s illegal,” Michael teases him.

“Only if you get caught,” Sludge says trying to concentrate on his game. Seconds later, he tosses the joy stick on the table.

“Damn it, Michael,” he says in frustration. “This game requires my full attention or I get the snot kicked out of me.” Sludge turns to look at Michael for the first time.

“Jesus, what happen to you?” Sludge asks when he sees Michael’s battle scars.

“I slipped in the shower,” Michael says sarcastically.

“That’s why I never bathe,” Sludge jokes.

“I need my phone, Sludge,” Michael says.

Sludge hops up from his chair. He unlocks the top drawer of a file cabinet and retrieves Michael’s phone and a computer printout of a map of New York City.

“Here’s what I found,” Sludge says as he hands Michael the phone and shows him the print out.

“Here’s your city block.” Sludge points to a section on the map outlined in red.

“Lower Manhattan, warehouse district,” Michael says. Michael studies the map for a moment and then looks up at Sludge.

“Thank you,” Michael says. “What’s the payment?” Sludge shrugs his shoulders.

“Just tell me everything Jerkhoff does,” Sludge says. “Even if he writes a program for flushing the toilets at Division, I want to know about it. Deal?”
Michael smiles and holds out his hand. Sludge offers him an orange-free hand today.

“Deal,” Michael says as they shake.

“Oh, by the way,” Sludge says. “You got a text into that phone this morning.” Michael looks at him sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Michael says.

“Bat Girl wants to know how you’re feeling,” Sludge shares.

“Thanks,” Michael says and he leaves.


Once in the hallway, Michael replies to Nikita.

I’m alive.

Nikita quickly replies back.

You’ve just made my day

Michael replies to her.

Want to help me find out about the Olsen twins?

Nikita replies.

They just flew in two days ago from Gaza

Michael looks at her message for a moment and then replies.

You’re good. Any connection to Al Qaeda or any other terrorist groups?

She replies.

Negative

Michael asks her another question.

Can you check their financials?

Nikita replies.

On it


After her last message to Michael, Nikita tosses her phone on her desk. She’s back at her safe house. She told David some lame story about needing to be in New York by Sunday and she left D.C. David understood but she is feeling guilty about using him. He’s a nice guy. Her mind drifts back to Michael and she forgets about her guilt toward David. She sits down at her desk and starts her research into the Al-Farar financials.


Later that day, Michael returns to New York. He arrives at Division at 4 p.m. He heads directly into Operations. Birkhoff is busy keying away and studying his many LCD screens when Michael walks in.

“Is Percy in?” Michael asks Birkhoff. Birkhoff is talking to someone through his headset.

“No, I would have seen it by now,” Birkhoff says ignoring Michael. “Maybe they’re waiting for some kind of confirmation. Yeah. Sorry but no deposits have come through in the last twenty four hours. Yes, I’ll let you know.”

Birkhoff rips off the headset and tosses it on the desk. He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. He focuses on Michael now.

“Michael, you look like someone took a baseball bat to your face,” he says.

“Cut myself shaving,” Michael says. “What’s going on?”

“Percy’s rattled,” Birkhoff adds. “Mossad is stalling on making the payment and you know how skittish Percy gets when things don’t go as planned.”

“What’s the reason for the delay?” Michael asks.

“Well, I think they didn’t like the information they got, but that’s just me,” Birkhoff guesses.

“Is Roan with him?” Michael asks.

“I’m not sure,” Birkhoff says.

“You’re a wealth of information,” Michael says sarcastically. “How about when Percy will be back?”

“Tomorrow night,” Birkhoff offers. Michael walks toward the door. “See, I’m good for something,” Birkhoff calls after him.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Michael says as he walks out the door.


The lights of the City fill the dark night by the time Michael leaves Division. It’s 9 p.m. Walking down Central Park West toward his apartment on 59th, Michael takes out Nikita’s phone. No messages. He sends Nikita a text.

Any luck with the financials?

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, Michael puts the phone back in his pocket. He continues down 52nd Street toward Grand. The sidewalks are packed with the dinner crowds. Michael doesn’t notice the black sedan following about a block behind him.

He, along with a crowd of people, stops at the crosswalk at 60th and 59th and wait for the light to change. As the light turns green, the crowd steps off the curb and onto the crosswalk. Michael waits. He looks down at the oncoming traffic to his left. He sees a sedan with a blackened front windshield. Odd, he thinks. He pulls his gun from his waistband but keeps it hidden in his jacket.

Suddenly, the sound of gun fire fills the air. The windshield of the black sedan shatters and automatic gunfire explodes from within the car. Bystanders scream and run for cover. It’s total chaos at the intersection. Several people are hit and fall as the gunfire continues. Michael instinctively hits the ground in search of cover. He crawls around to a cluster of garbage bins. The shooters see his position.

The sedan begins to weave around stopped cars to get closer to Michael’s hiding place. He slowly peeks around the garbage bins. Michael sees the car coming up behind an abandoned taxi on the right side of the street. He’s a sitting duck. Michael crawls around the bins and over to the curb using the taxi as cover. He opens the right passenger door of the abandoned cab and crawls in. He stays low and waits. The sedan pulls up on the left. The shooters haven’t seen Michael. He thinks their plan is to pull in front of the taxi and come around to gun him down by the garbage bins. Michael watches as the car passes.

With the windshield blown out he can see there are two men in the vehicle. After the car passes, Michael jumps out of the left side of the taxi and runs up behind the sedan. He shoots at the passenger first and then the driver killing both. Sirens fill the air and red flashing lights bounce off the buildings. Michael conceals his gun and runs down the street. He’s able to disappear into the crowd of onlookers.


Nikita is meeting with, Carlos, one of her black market arms dealers. His shop on East 40th is small and cramped. He sells street legal weapons in the front of the store but in the back, he deals in mostly unconventional merchandise. From time to time, Carlos is able to secure high tech toys for Nikita.

“I think this is what you’re looking for,” Carlos says as he hands her a small vial. Nikita takes the vial and holds it up to the light.

“So this carries a signal from anywhere in the world?” she asks.

“Yes,” Carlos reassures her.

“And if it’s placed on the skin it will remain for how long?” she asks.

“Seven to ten days,” Carlos confirms. “And then you will have to replace it. Or you could let me sell you a more permanent version inserted under the skin.”

“This is perfect,” Nikita says as she continues to stare at the incredibly small black dot in the vial.

“Put it on my bill,” she says with a smile and she puts the vial in her coat pocket.


The elevator doors on the floor of Michael’s apartment open. Michael walks down the hallway toward his apartment. As he approaches, he sees the door to his apartment is ajar. Quickly, he pulls his Glock. He quietly draws closer listening for any sound. He hears voices but he can’t make out what they are saying. He slowly backs away from the door. He turns the corner on the other side of the bank of elevators and slips down the stairwell.


Nikita returns to her safe house. It’s dark just as she left it. She slips the key in the lock and opens the door. She walks into the dark entry hall. As she turns to shut the door, she is grabbed from behind. Her arms are restricted and her screams are muffled by a hand covering her mouth. She tries to break free but the hold is too tight.

“It’s me,” Michael whispers in her ear. He can feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. She stops resisting.

“I just didn’t want you to kill me before I could explain why I’m here,” he continues. “You okay?”

Nikita nods yes. Michael slowly lets his hand fall from her mouth. She quickly turns to face him.

“How did you find me?” she asks, in a panic.

“Let’s just say I owe the CIA big,” he says calmly.

She backs up and leans against the hallway wall for support. The city lights shining through the single hallway window illuminate only one side of her face. Michael sees fear in her eyes. He moves a step closer to her.

“Do you know I could never hurt you?” he asks. Nikita thinks for a moment.

“No, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she replies. He takes another step closer.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” he says.

“So this isn’t a social call?” she asks.

“Someone tried to kill me tonight,” he says. “And, my apartment is currently the site of a party where I suspect I was the guest of honor,”

“I was worried this wasn’t over,” she asks with genuine concern.

“It’s never that easy,” he says.

“It could be Kasim,” she guesses. “How much do you think he wants you dead?”

“Not as much as I want him,” Michael answers. “But, maybe he’s tiring of our cat and mouse game. Maybe our recent trip to Yemen has him fired up.”

“Actually, I think he likes the sport,” Nikita says.

“Soon the game will be over,” Michael adds.

“I’ve been doing some digging and so far there’s no formal contract on you,” Nikita offers.

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says.

Nikita turns and takes a few steps down into her main room.

“Feel like a shot of Tequila?” she asks.

“Always,” Michael says as he follows her into the large empty space.

Nikita continues beyond the great room and into a small kitchen at the back of the apartment.
She takes a bottle from her pantry and two shot glasses from the cabinet. Michael watches as she fills both glasses. Then, she hands a shot to Michael.

“Thanks,” he says as together they down their drinks.

“I don’t know about you but I’m really getting ****,” she says as she sets the shot glass on the counter. Michael smiles.

“Maybe it’s time we take a prisoner,” Michael says. “Feel like a little interrogation?”

She gets a big smile on her face and pours two more shots.


Four Middle Eastern men sit in a car parked close to Times Square. They casually look around at the crowds of people. The driver of the car is talking on a cell phone.

“What do you mean he’s still alive?” a voice says on the other end of the phone. “How long is this going to take?”

“Tomorrow,” the driver says. “We will have him tomorrow.”

“I don’t care how to you do it, I don’t care if there are witnesses, and I don’t care if you’re arrested,” the voice says in a angry tone. “Make sure it’s tomorrow or you and your band of brothers won’t live to see the sun rise,” Then, the line goes dead


Nikita turns on a light in the upstairs bedroom. Michael follows her into the room.

“Not exactly the Fairmount,” Nikita says as she looks at Michael’s reaction to the bare room with only a king size mattress on the floor.

“I once hid in a latrine for two nights,” he says. “It’s a step up from that.”

“At least your safe here,” she says. Her words carry a certain intimacy that isn’t lost on either of them.

Michael takes off his coat and shirt and lays them on the floor next to the bed.

“Tomorrow, I’ll confront Percy,” Michael nonchalantly adds. “I need to see if he’s involved.”

Dressed in just a black t-shirt and his pants, Michael gently falls on top of the mattress and slips under the comforter.

“Wow, we just went from zero to sixty and I didn’t even get to fasten my seatbelt,” she says. “Do you really think confronting Percy at Division is a good idea?”

Nikita pulls off her coat and the long sleeve Hanley she’s wearing and tosses them on the floor. All that remains is her black yoga bra.

“I need to start eliminating possible suspects,” Michael reminds her. “Percy is a logical next step.”

Nikita removes her jeans revealing her black bikini panties. Michael thinks she’s beautiful. She turns out the light and falls onto the mattress. She curls into a fetal position under the comforter and turns away from Michael. He lies on his back looking at the dark ceiling.

“Division is a black hole,” she finally says. “If he is involved, you’ll never leave that place alive and no one will know,”

Michael can hear the sadness in her voice. He rolls over next to her, wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her close. He leans in and kisses her ear.

“You’ll know,” he whispers.

She gently rolls over to face him.

“You need to stay alive,” she says as her voice catches and her eyes well with tears.

“I will,” he says to comfort her.

“I won’t make it if anything happens to you,” she says as tears begin to fall from her eyes. “And you know it.”

Michael studies her. He’s never seen her so vulnerable. Her pain reminds him of the pain he felt over his wife and daughter’s deaths.

“You never told me it was going to feel like this,” she continues.

“What?” he asks as he reaches over and wipes the tears from her cheek.

“Fear,” she answers.

“When have you ever been afraid?” he asks.

She bows her head down and lets out a gentle sob. He reaches around her and pulls her down onto the other side of the bed. He’s above her now. In the reflected light from the single window he can see the tracks left by her tears. He bends closer and kisses both her eyelids as if to take her pain away. When he leans back to look at her, she reaches her hand up to caress his cheek. He slowly bends down toward her mouth. She parts her lips in anticipation of his touch. He also parts his lips and lets his tongue gently slide to the edge of his lips. He slowly moves to the point where his tongue can feel her lower lip. He runs his tongue along the tips of both her lips and then presses his mouth to hers. Michael takes a deep breath and the sound excites them. Nikita wraps her arms around him and their passion intensifies.


The darkness gives way to sunlight in Nikita’s bedroom. She and Michael lay sleeping. Michael is tucked behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist and his lips close enough to kiss her through the night.

Nikita slowly opens her eyes and feels his hold on her. She can’t remember ever feeling this way before; even with Daniel. She is content and safe. She pulls Michael’s hand to her mouth for a kiss. Michael wakes and pulls her close.

“Michael?” she says.

“Umm,” he says still too sleepy to speak.

“I found one of Percy’s black boxes,” she says.

“What?” he asks as his eyes open and his voice gets louder.

“It was in the Oval Office,” she says. Michael leans up on one elbow to look down at her.

“Unbelievable,” he says getting more agitated. “Now how did you figure that out?”

“What’s important is we have two of the five boxes now,” she says as she pushes the comforter aside and stands.

“How in the hell did you get into the Oval Office?” Michael presses. He is visibly angry now and sitting up in bed. She pulls on her jeans and coat.

“David is Secret Service,” she says as she turns to leave the room and descend the stairs.

“That explains everything,” Michael says to himself.

Downstairs now, Nikita quickly takes the vial from her coat pocket. Still upstairs, Michael grabs his shirt off the floor and slips it on. Nikita pulls the top off the vial and drops the black dot in the palm of her hand. Michael buttons his shirt, slips on his coat, and runs after Nikita. She presses the dot onto the tip of her finger just as Michael reaches the main room.

“Nikita,” he shouts. She turns to face him.

“Your obsession with bringing down Division is almost psychotic,” he continues.

“What do you want me to do, Michael?” she asks. “Just let Percy keep his army of assassin slaves. I can’t do that.”

“I’ve told you before you can’t win this one,” he softens his tone. “You need to think about the battles you can win.” He steps closer to her and takes hold of the arms.

“And how I can help you,” he adds.

Nikita breaks free and turns her back to him so he can’t see the tears fall from her eyes. She reaches up and quickly wipes them away. Michael turns her around to face him again.

“I’m trying my best to keep the recruits safe,” he says. “Give me some time. Maybe I can make a difference from inside Division.”

“Fine, but I won’t wait forever,” she tells him as she turns back to face him.

He takes the few steps necessary to reach her, leans in, and kisses her forehead. Then, he bends down to press his lips to hers. She wraps her arms around him and presses the microchip to the back of his neck just below his hairline.


Amanda walks into Percy’s office and shuts the door.

“Welcome back,” she says.

Percy is typing on a laptop and ignores her. After several seconds of making her wait, he looks at her.

“Where’s Michael?” he asks and then continues to type on the laptop.

She hates when Percy minimizes her existence. She knows it’s his modus operandi for manipulating his subordinates and keeping them in a state of perpetual insecurity. She lets him think it works on her but she’s a master at using people.

“I have news on Alex,” she continues ignoring his question. Percy stops typing.

“Is she a risk?” he asks. Amanda walks over to the chair in front of Percy’s desk and sits.

“I’m still not sure,” Amanda offers. “I gave her a dose of sodium pentothal and she was still able to lie.”

“Interesting,” Percy replies. “That’s a valuable skill to possess. Perhaps we should have you continue your efforts to uncover the truth. Depending on the lies, perhaps she’s a greater asset than we think.” Amanda gives him an approving look.

“We’ll have to find another way to source the information,” Amanda says. “I’m afraid I won’t get another chance to drug her,”

“I have confidence you’ll find another way,” Percy says. “You always do, Amanda. It’s why I keep you around. You’re a lot like me.”


It’s dusk when Michael exits a cab at 57th and Wall Street. He walks about a half a block past a seedy hotel and down an alley that separates the hotel from a pawn shop. About half way down the alley he stops and takes three steps down to an egress doorway. He pulls out a key card and slides it through the reader mounted next to the door. He hears the clicking sound of the lock releasing. He enters an outer chamber where there’s another secure door. He presses his palm on a screen positioned next to the door. Seconds later the door slides open.

He enters a long hallway. At the end of the hallway is an elevator. On the wall next to the elevator is a key pad. Michael enters a code and the elevator opens. He enters another code into the elevator key pad and descends to a lower floor. After several seconds the elevator stops. Michael exits and passes down another hallway to another door with a retina scanner. Michael looks into the scanner allowing a laser to study his eye. Seconds later the door clicks open. Michael enters the familiar surroundings of Division. He walks through Operations and up to Percy’s office.

“Was your trip to Tel Aviv a success?” Michael asks. Percy looks up from his desk. He smiles at Michael.

“Very,” Percy says as he leans back in his chair.

“I’m assuming that means Roan had the names?” he asks.

“Thanks to you and Roan,” Percy adds. “They got what they wanted.”

“My role was minimal,” Michael says modestly.

“Take the credit, Michael,” Percy says. “It was a job well done.”

“Percy, I need to dramatically change the subject,” Michael says.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving Division,” Percy says.

“No,” Michael tells him. “Someone’s trying to kill me,” Michael says. Percy looks surprised.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Two Middle Eastern men tried to shoot me in D.C.,” Michael says. “And, last night, same thing only I was walking to my apartment.” Percy sits up in his chair.

“Kasim?” Percy questions.

“Maybe,” Michael admits. “I need to know it’s not Division.”

Percy stands and walks around to the front of his desk. He leans on the desktop.

“You know I’m not much for sentiment, Michael,” Percy says. “But I don’t think even I could bring myself to do that.” Michael believes him.

“Until we find out more,” Percy strategizes. “I don’t want you leaving Division without a strike force for protection.”

“Thank you,” Michael says. Percy stands and walks over to Michael. He puts his hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I know you think I’m a prick sometimes but our team is important to me,” Percy says sincerely.

Michael looks at Percy and holds out his hand and they shake.

Nikita knows Michael is seeing Percy tonight. She logs onto her computer and her multi-screen desktop comes to life. On one screen she is tracking Michael’s GPS and on another screen, the traffic cameras on the streets outside of Division headquarters. According to his GPS, Michael’s location shows he’s still at Division. She marks the time. The streets are quiet. Now, she waits.

The door from Division headquarters to the alley opens. Five men in full body armor and carrying military grade automatic weapons spill into the alley and assume tactical positions. Each gives an “all clear” hand signal to their commander. The commander calls to Michael on a Bluetooth.

“All clear,” the commander tells Michael.

Nikita sees Michael’s GPS is on the move. She watches the traffic cameras for any movement outside the entrance to Division.

The door from Division headquarters opens again and Michael slips into the alley behind the strike team. Out on the street, a black Escalade pulls up. Nikita watches her screen as the Escalade moves into position to escort Michael. She realizes Percy is not behind the attempts on Michael’s life.

Michael and the strike force covertly move toward the vehicle. Just before they reach for the Escalade’s doors, a black Hummer careens at about sixty five miles an hour and barrels right into the back of the Escalade. This causes a chain reaction accident that affects at least fifteen other cars on the street. Michael and the strike force scramble. Nikita watches in horror.

Suddenly, a bazooka blast flashes from the Hummer and explodes into the Escalade. At the same time, seven men in black SWAT gear rush out of the Hummer and begin firing at the strike force. The strike force falls one by one.

All but Michael. Someone hits Michael from behind with the butt of a rifle. Two other men grab Michael and toss him into the Hummer. Then, they speed away.

Nikita panics. She grabs her coat, her Glock, and her portable laptop and rushes out of the safe house.


Percy stares at the pictures Birkhoff has displayed on the large LCD screens on the front wall of Operations. Birkhoff is running magnified images of the ambush of the strike force and the kidnapping of Michael.

“Are you getting this?” Birkhoff asks. Percy just stares at the single image of the driver behind the wheel of the Hummer. His face is blackened but the image is clear.

Amanda walks up to Percy and turns her back to Birkhoff.

“Did you know about this?” she quietly asks Percy.

“No,” is all he says and he turns from her to walk toward his office. “Send the location of his tracking device to my Blackberry ASAP,” Percy barks at Birkhoff.

“On it,” Birkhoff says as he and Amanda make eye contact.


Michael comes to. He opens his eyes. They quickly adjust to the dark and he realizes he’s in the back of a panel van. His mouth is covered with duct tape, his arms are tied behind his back, and his legs are bound. His head is pounding and he closes his eyes again. He listens for any sound that might help him identify his location. Nothing at first. Then, he hears the sound of a jet engine revving for taking off.

He tries to loosen the restraints but he’s too tightly bound. He decides to try and pull his arms in front of him. He lies on his back and twists until his arms slip around to the crook of his knees. Then, he pulls in his legs and stretches his arms to slip around his feet. The action is painful but finally it works. His hands are now in front of him. He grabs an edge and pulls the duct tape off his mouth.

“Ahh,” he groans as the tape rips his skin.

He feels his way around the floor of the van to see if there’s any type of weapon or tool he can use. He touches a length of rope, a chain, several cinder blocks, a roll of duct tape, and a large flashlight. Michael pulls one of the cinder blocks between his legs. He saws the plastic restraints on his hands back and forth until he cuts through the plastic.

Now with his hands free, he begins to work on his legs. Holding up his legs to saw on the cinder block is hard on his muscles and takes longer but finally he’s able to break through the plastic. He’s free. But he is still locked in a van with only a flashlight as a weapon.

Suddenly he hears a car pull up and two car doors shutting. Michael steadies himself against one of the van doors, the flashlight held over his head. He hears the key in the van lock and the clicking sound as the doors open. Light floods into the van and it takes a moment for Michael’s eyes to adjust.

“Michael,” he hears Percy call. He quickly exits the van to see Percy holding Roan at gun point.

“Did you obtain the names of the terrorists from Musof?” Percy asks.

“No,” Michael says.

Percy takes only a second and then shoots Roan in the head. Roan falls backward and hits the ground hard. Percy looks over at Michael who has a shocked look on his face.

“He lied to me and he set you up,” Percy says still holding the gun on Roan. “That’s a death sentence in my world.”

Michael hears a car engine accelerating. He looks up to see a black SUV plowing toward them. Michael pushes Percy behind his car. They watch as the SUV flies by. It’s Nikita. She plows right into the back of the van at a high rate of speed. She continues pushing the van for several 100 feet. Then, she jumps from the SUV and rolls on the ground just as the van explodes into a horrific fire ball. Michael and Percy hit the ground behind the car.

Although Nikita was able to move the van a significant distance, shrapnel flies through the air and rains down in a half a mile radius. The blast reverberation blows out the windows of the car and glass shards fall on Michael and Percy. After the blast subsides, they stand to survey the damage.

Nikita is lying face down on the ground. She’s not moving. Michael starts to run to her but Percy grabs his arm to stop him. The sounds of sirens fill the air.

“Leave her,” Percy tells him. “We need to go now.” Michael resists but Percy drags him along and pushes him into the car. Percy drives away just as he emergency crews arrive.


Nikita unlocks her front door and looks around the hallway of her safe house. No unexpected visitors this time. She walks into her main room and tosses her jacket on a chair. Her face is full of cuts and bruises. The EMT’s that arrived at the scene of the explosion stitched her several cuts but she refused to go to the hospital.

She logs onto her computer. The map showing Michael’s GPS pops up. He’s at Division. Her phone rings. She digs in her coat pocket and retrieves the device.

“Tell me you’re okay?” Michael asks. Nikita smiles.

“Who is this?” she jokes.

“Smart ass,” Michael adds.

“Better question. How are you?” she asks.

“I need a shot of Tequila,” he says.

“I know a little hole-in-the-wall you might like,” she offers.

“On my way.”
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Re: Nikita: Killer Moves

Postby Lockes disciple on Sat Nov 20, 2010 8:52 pm

Superb. :thumbup:
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