A/N: Short story based on a request. AU. Pre-season 1 starting with a slightly different version of Operation Pale Fire. Enjoy. :)
Updates are also coming for Ascension.
"My pain, my pride, these scars are mine." ~ Otep
Nikita stared down the length of her weapon toward the body on the floor with a detached interest. A voice came through her comm interrupting her brief moment of contemplation. She still had work to do. Moving swiftly and as lightly as a shadow through a hall, the young assassin found herself standing in front of another person. Another target... Had to be another target. Nikita could not afford to think otherwise. This girl, this young teen had to stay just a target or... The future didn't bear thinking about. Nikita's finger tightened as the girl looked her in the face. Girl... This was a girl not a human shape on a piece of paper, not a Division mission, not a mark. Her future didn't bear thinking about either way. The only thing worth that second look was her soul.
She couldn't take care of the girl. She could save her life, but anything beyond that would turn the girl an albatross around her neck. Nikita would make sure someone the family trusted got the girl.
She's just a young girl, Nikita again reminded herself. She had to keep her own ass alive if she was going to figure it all out. Nikita mentally said goodbye to the young woman she had freed and killed all on the same night.
Nikita's life changed in an instant, much like the teen girl in the estate. She fell in love despite everything Division had taught her. It changed everything that she had ever felt in terms of loyalty toward Percy and Division. She took suicide missions. She took on assassinations that made her feel filthy inside. All she wanted was a small piece of the world for herself. All she wanted was for it to be okay to love someone. Unfortunately, Division was a jealous and vengeful god.
When Daniel died, it was made to look like it had nothing to do with Division. Everything in Nikita screamed it had everything to do with Division. In time, Percy and Amanda would both admit it to her face. She was at a loss until she remembered one thing. Everything they had taught her, it had a second use. It could make her free, keep her free if she was careful. All she had to do was take her chance when it was offered and it would come.
The young assassin relished her life on the run. At first it was cold and wet and lonely, but then it got better. Oh, she still lived like a wolf in the trees curled in the heavy roots through long nights, but she was free. The cold metal weapon at her back became her protection, not her curse. Soon she was able to upgrade to walls and a roof of her own. This, this was all the heaven a messed up kid grown up into an assassin could dare dream of.
Nikita grew angry. She was free and happy in that freedom, but her soul began nagging again. How many other kids would be lost to Division to become assassins or worse. Worse... there was that thought. Nikita warmed up her laptop and began looking up Alexandra Udinov. The girl she had saved so long ago was thought to be dead on the surface of things. Nikita looked deeper, then deeper still. Apparently, no one that the Udinov family trusted was worthy of trust. The girl had been sold.
It took a few weeks to find Alexandra Udinov. Nikita frowned into her wine glass as she stared toward the VIP section of the busy strip club. The girl had become a woman, a very attractive young woman. She was selling herself for the Russian sex traffickers that had bought her from the family friend. Now and again, Nikita saw flashes of spirit, but the flashes were dimmed by little bags of powder given her by her master, her owner. One of the few controls not exercised by Division. Drugs to numb and control also made subjects less able to function independently and effectively. Nikita's frown deepened as she put her glass down on the coaster in front of her. These drugs were slowly killing a magnificent young woman.
"You a cop?" a gravelly Russian tinged voice queried in her ear.
She smiled and swiveled on the bar stool to face the man speaking. He was enforcer material for a lower level thug. All muscle, all intimidating. Not even vaguely threatening to someone who could read fighters. He moved like a boxer. All about landing a perfect punch. Useless for a more involved fight. "I am about as much cop as you are big guy," she responded lightly.
His chin jerked at the table where Alexandra Udinov was just appearing to feel the full frostiness of the last packet of drugs she had been given. "What is your interest in that table?"
Nikita tilted her head as if contemplating the whole vip tableau in a new light. "Beautiful women over there."
"You wish to be over there..." he prompted before smiling, reading her face, he amended his guess. "You wish to play with one of the beautiful women."
Nikita's plan had been to find out where the women were kept and then slowly work out the best way to take Alexandra Udinov out of the mob's hands, but she had not become Division's best agent by ignoring opportunity. "The one on the left. I want to play with the one on the left." She smiled seductively toward the table.
The meaty man frowned as he registered who she was indicating. "She is...not so good. Discipline issues."
Nikita offered him a mischievous smile and a raised brow. "Maybe I like discipline issues...and handcuffs."
He snorted. "And maybe you pay extra, double if you damage the merchandise."
Nikita looked more boldly at the table and at Alexandra Udinov. She picked up her drink and sipped slowly and thoughtfully. "When?"
The large man chuckled. "When can the lady produce sufficient cash? I will ask the boss the current price."
She pulled a rubber band bound roll of cash from her pocket and flashed it at him. "I think you will find me paid up and covered for any... accidents."
He smiled darkly and plucked the roll from her fingers. "Done." The bodyguard twirled a finger at Alex. She looked over at the pimp and received a nod. Standing, the young woman was soon making her way over.
Nikita stood from her stool. The bodyguard touched her shoulder. "We have rooms upstairs."
"Not a chance," she purred. She had been tempted to take his finger and use it to twist him painfully, but she wanted to walk out of here clean and easy. She already had Division looking for her. If the Russian mob started searching her out too, she wanted to give herself a good head start. The dark haired woman nodded toward the wad of cash. "You have my security deposit."
Nodding, he jerked a thumb directing Alex to move closer. "This woman is your companion for the night. Follow her." Turning he looked at Nikita. "She will need her... medication before long. You would return her then anyway. She is a bitch when she is not properly dosed."
Nikita grabbed Alexandra's hand and dragged her to her side. "I told you, I like discipline issues."
Alex wrapped her other arm around Nikita and looked up at her with heavy lidded blue eyes. She rubbed her body against the other woman. "I'm Sasha." Alex purred.
Unwrapping herself, Nikita pulled the other woman out of the strip club after her. As soon as she was clear of the camera on the front entrance, Nikita started striding faster. Alex began an awkward trot in the heels that her enslaver had chosen for her. "Where are we going?" the young Russian asked.
Nikita smiled. "My car is on the other side of the block." She stopped and turned.
Alexandra aka Sasha slowed to a saunter and slid her hands up Nikita's arms. "There's an alley right over there." Her chin jerked lightly toward the gap between the buildings.
The dark haired woman smiled slightly. "I've done this before. I won't put you in danger."
A puzzled look slid over the Russian's features. "What?"
Nikita swiftly used her foot to force Alex off balance. Stepping in behind the struggling woman, the assassin pressed at the carotid soon rendering the young sex slave unconscious. Nikita began moving the brunette on to the car. It would be a haul, but safer than if the drug addled young woman figured out something was wrong and started screaming. Nikita slid her in the back seat, binding her swiftly.
"Sorry," she said quietly, gently stroking the unconscious woman's cheek. She shook her head. Where did that come from?