Disclaimer: I guess this is where I say that Nikita, Michael, and all the
other characters in the story belong to USA network. I don't really want
to, but because I have to, I just did. *G* No more chocolate for me today!
Author's Note: Okay, this is my first La Femme Nikita Story and my first story to publish on the web. I have already started 'Contamination- part II', and I expect it to be online within the next week. I'd also like to point out that a character's thoughts are contained in '~'s. Enjoy!
©1999 Tierney Epstein, All Rights Reserved. Must have author's permission for any use other than printing for personal use or downloading to a personal file.
Contamination- Part I
by Mara
The mission was going as planned. Nikita was at her second mark, waiting for Birkoff to let her know her path was clear. All at once her com unit came to life.
"Go ahead Nikita. The hallway is clear, but in about two minutes, a
group of Aguilar's goons will reach it, so get in and get out."
"Gotcha Birkoff." With deft, precise movements Nikita glided down the corridor, ever watchful, never letting down her guard. She carefully entered an access code Madeline had gotten from a former Section One prisoner and held her breath. ~Nine. Five. Two. Seven. Three. Five. One. Seven. Nine. Zero.~ The steel panel slid to her right and Nikita turned to her left, pressing her back to the right side of the door frame, looking for any extra security measures or traps in the room. Section's Intel was very thorough, but not always 100% accurate. Once in a while there were unexpected surprises.
Swiftly Nikita turned ninety degrees to her left and stepped fully into the room, listening to the hiss of the door closing behind her. Taking in her surroundings quickly, she noted that the ceiling stood nearly fifteen feet high and the walls were bare and white. Nikita guessed that the room was about thirteen feet long and eight feet wide. A single wooden table stood in the middle of the blue and white checked tile floor, accompanied only by a worn-looking office chair. On the table sat a computer, a scattered mass of shredded papers, and a tangle of wires and cords.
"Okay, Nikita. The disk should be straight ahead on that table. It'll probably be in the port already, but check anyway."
Nikita set down her gun, pressed a button on the out surface of the computer and a small gold disk popped out. Kicking the chair out of her way, she reinserted it into the computer and set her fingers on the computer keys, trying to keep them relaxed. "It's in here Birkoff. Now what?"
"Type in backslash, D, semicolon, slash, lightening. You have a minute twenty-three left."
"I can do it." ~Okay.~ She mentally repeated Birkoff's instructions as she followed them systematically. ~Backslash, D, semicolon, slash, lightening.~
"It's downloading all the files." Nikita paused as she heard Birkoff's voice. She couldn't do anything but wait now.
"Michael, there are seven large bodies moving in Nikita's direction. Get there and take them out, fast. Fifty seconds, Nikita." Michael jogged silently, first down one hallway, then another, turning where Birkoff told him to. Right, left, left, right, left, right, right. Nikita's palm's started to sweat and her pulse accelerated slightly at the thought of Michael coming to protect her. She knew it was under orders, but it hardly mattered.
"The files are almost done." Ten seconds passed in silence. With every passing moment Nikita's heart beat more intensely until it was thundering in her head. "They're finished. I have the disk."
"Good, Nikita. Michael is waiting for you just outside the door. The guards will intercept you in fifteen seconds unless you get out of there." Nikita walked back to the door she had come in through and was startled when she saw no way to get out.
"Birkoff, how do I get out of here?"
"There should be a red button under the table, under the corner closest to the door. Press it and a key pad should slide out. Enter the code you used to get in. That should open the door." Covering the distance to the table in two strides, Nikita felt under the smooth wood for a catch mechanism. Feeling the button, she pressed it and a keypad glided into her field of vision. Reentering her access code, Nikita prayed that it would work. ~Nine. Five. Two. Seven. Three. Five. One. Seven. Nine. Zero.~ The keypad replaced itself underneath the table and the metal door once again slid into the wall.
Stepping into the hallway, Nikita saw Michael to her left. Before she had a chance to do anything, Michael's left hand cupped itself around the back of her neck and pushed her down. By the time his right hand, wielding his gun, had fired four nearly invisible shots, Nikita had her weapon raised and was taking care of the remaining three. All seven threats were dead.
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No matter how many missions she went on, it never seemed to get less painful, just more instinctive. It sickened Nikita that she could have conformed so quickly to the ways of these animals who had stolen her life from her. She hated to kill anyone. It didn't matter why. The only way she could justify the carnage to herself was by remembering that what Section did was stop terrorists.
Nikita was the last one off the transport. She walked through the circular doorway back to Section, pulling the black ski cap from her head, letting her long blonde hair fall to her back. She ran her fingers through it once and glared at Michael as she approached him. As she passed, his hand darted out and grabbed her upper arm in an iron grip. He turned his head so that their cheeks nearly touched and she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear. Michael's voice was low and sensual, barely loud enough for even Nikita to hear.
"I want to see you in my office after we debrief."
"Fine," was her chilled reply. Nikita's icy blue eyes bore into his brown ones, searching the depths of his soul for answers. Instead, she found only emptiness.
-------------------------------------------
Thirty minutes later, Nikita closed the metal door to Michael's office and turned to face him, her body still leaning against it. Michael secured the room from listening devices and closed the blinds. He just stood there for a moment, staring unseeingly at the metallic gray shutters, before he turned to look Nikita in the eye.
"You wanted to see me?" ~Two can play at this game. I can be just as impersonal as he can.~
"I know you were afraid today, when you thought you couldn't get out of that room in Constantinople."
"Is this why you wanted to see me? Of course I was afraid." Under her breath Nikita added something she didn't think Michael heard. "I'M human."
"Operations will think you're going soft again."
"To hell with Operations. And what do you care?"
Michael paused, looking back at the the blinds, away from Nikita. "I care," he said simply.
"Why?" Her gaze remained fixed on him, though his eyes would not meet hers. Her voice betrayed no emotion, yet her stomach twisted in anxious anticipation of he would say. Casually she crossed her ankles and let her head rest against the door, her lengthy tresses falling over her right cheek. Raising her right hand, Nikita twirled her hair loosely around her index finger, watching Michael with interest.
Michael knew very well that he couldn't tell Nikita that he loved her, though that would have been the correct answer to her question. It astounded as well as annoyed Michael that she didn't see it. He had used and tortured her emotional without mercy, all for Section. Surely she must know that he hated every minute of pain he caused her. He was ordered to find out things about her, personally, by pretending to be in love with her, but no one saw that he wasn't pretending. When he held her, when he kissed her, he felt a warmth deep inside that he never thought he'd feel again after Simone died. When Michael was with Nikita, the things he felt weren't ordered by Operations; those were things that no one could ever order him to feel. After much thought, Michael avoided the question by giving Nikita an answer that didn't really answer anything. "You're a good operative." He finally turned back to look at her. What he saw in her eyes nearly ripped him in half. What Michael saw in Nikita's eyes was contempt.
"Should I feel special?" Nikita's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why am I really here Michael?"
"I wanted to see you."
"Why?" This game was becoming more and more frequent of late. He'd stop to talk to her about something of no importance. It was beginning to irk her a great deal.
"I was wondering how you're doing."
"You mean about Jergen?" At the dead man's name Michael stiffened. This was beginning to make sense. Nikita smiled a little at his discomfort and rubbed a finger back and forth against her black leather pants. ~So that's why we wants to see me. He feels guilty. Maybe he's not completely inhuman after all.~ The movement caught Michael's eye and he stared at her hand moving against her leg as he thought of what to say next.
"Yes, and other things."
"I'm fine. Can I go now?" Michael's face changed visibly. He was almost hurt that she wanted to get away from him so badly.
"Yes." Michael turned to his desk and unsecured the room before returning to the chair behind his desk. Nikita put her hand on the door as if to leave but changed her mind and looked back to Michael instead. He was looking down at some papers on his desk.
"Thanks."
He answered her without even looking up. "Sure." His voice was so calculated and...cold. Nikita shivered a little at the thought.
~He's back to being Section's good little soldier boy. At least once in a while, when we're alone, the part of Michael that he keeps frozen inside melts and he seems human.~
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Back in her apartment, Nikita collapsed upon the couch. She was exhausted from the mission, as well as her meeting with Michael. ~Why does he always have to be so impossible?! Why do I let him get to me?!~ Nikita gave up searching for answers, frustrated that she couldn't come up with any. There was just no logical explanation for it. Maybe a hot shower would relax her and take her mind off the day's irritations.
Nikita walked into her bathroom, pushed the clear plastic door aside, and turned on the water. She held her right hand under the running water until she was satisfied with the temperature. Turning around, Nikita quickly pulled off all her clothes and her boots, set them on a chair, put her gun on the counter top, stepped into the shower, and slid the door shut behind her. Letting the warm water soothe away all her worries, Nikita's thoughts turned to Jergen. He had died over two months ago, and Michael was to blame. Michael was the one who had killed Jergen. He said that he had to do it to protect Section, but Nikita had her doubts. Michael had obviously hated Jergen. He had told her many things about Jergen that Jergen said were not true, and she wondered why. After all these months, she was no closer to the truth- about either of them.
When Nikita was through, she turned off the water, opened the shower door and blindly grabbed for a towel. She dried herself off, wrapped the towel around her body, and walked into her bedroom. Nikita's room was nice. Her bed was soft and comfortable, with white sheets, white pillows, and a white down comforter. On the wall to the left of the bed was the door to her bathroom and the door to her living room, on the wall to the right of the bed was a window that spanned across most of the wall. Also on the right side of the bed was a nightstand made of the same wood as the dresser, holding up a small metal lamp with a white shade. Past the foot of the bed, against the wall, was a waist-high dresser made of cherry wood with a vanity mirror. After putting on clean underwear, a thin, white, cotton camisole, and blue plaid, body-hugging pajama pants she removed from the dresser, Nikita stood in front of the mirror looking at herself thoughtfully as she rubbed her hair with the towel. ~I wonder what Michael's doing right now.~ Surprised at her own thought, Nikita quickly banished it from her mind.
Going into her bathroom, she hung the towel on the hook by the shower and quietly returned to her bedroom, carrying her gun. Nikita pulled back her sheets, lay down, pulled them up over her, and switched out the light on her bedside table. Glancing over at the cellular phone she had placed there when she finished her shower, Nikita hoped that tonight she could sleep without interruptions from Section.
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It was early afternoon when the phone rang. Nikita had spent her morning shopping before she stopped at a small cafe, where she ate a Caesar salad- alone. She knew that it was dangerous to have friends outside of Section, more for them than for her, but she still hated being alone all the time. It got lonely. On her way back to her apartment, only a few minutes after leaving the cafe, she received a call on her cell phone. Reaching into her 50's style black leather purse, Nikita withdrew the ringing object and flipped the top up, putting it to her ear as she kept walking towards home.
"Hello?"
"Josephine?"
"Yes?" Her voice was tight. Michael was the voice on the other end of the line.
"Briefing in twenty minutes."
"Okay. I'll be there." Adding a note of cheer to her voice as though she were talking to an old friend, Nikita hoped not to look suspicious to any passersby.
Nikita stopped by her apartment to drop off her packages and headed for Section.
-------------------------------------------
The briefing was routine. Seven operatives sat around a long, shiny black table while Operations told them where they were going, what they were going to do, and why they were going to do it.
"As you can see by this model, the Al Ghar Agricultural Facility in Iraq is circular and has one above ground floor. Our Intel tells us that there are two underground levels to this facility. It is a medical research instillation which we believe is producing biological weapons." Operations continued to pace the length of the table on the side opposite the operatives while he gave instructions and explanations. "Your orders are to get in, get samples of materials from the Level 4 Hot Zone, sterilize all four levels of biological activity, and destroy the lab."
Operatives rarely questioned Operations, but when someone did, it was usually Nikita. "How are we supposed to get inside?" ~And what the hell is going to keep us from those diseases?~
"Nikita, you will pose as a secretary and clear the path of all obstacles so the rest of the team can enter. The six of you will enter the Hot Zone while Birkoff manages things from a nearby transport. Once you are all inside, each of you will put on special suits and enter the core. Before leaving the Hot Zone, you will all be hosed down with bleach, so as not to contaminate anything outside the lab. the first level is a level 2 decontamination vestibule, the second is a level 4 biohazard lab. Any OTHER questions?" His tone of voice and the look he gave Nikita said he really just wanted her to keep her mouth shut.
"What happens after we have sterilized the compound?"
"You will simply return to the transport and return to Section One to debrief. All right, if that's all, the transport leaves in one hour." Each member of the team stood and left the room- everyone except Nikita. Once everyone else was gone, she uncrossed her legs and slowly got out of her chair. ~There's more to this than Operations is letting on. I wonder why we're really going. It just doesn't seem that simple.~
Walter looked up as Nikita approached his work area. She seemed bored and distracted. He smiled at her and gave his usual greeting. "Hey Sugar." He didn't seem surprised to see her.
"Hey Walter. I need a pair of glasses with a com unit and a camera." That said, he immediately turned around and opened a cabinet. One hand reached for a pair of glasses with thin, black, wire frames while the other continued to adjust a broken com unit.
"Sure. This for the Hot Zone mission?"
"Yep." Nikita took the glasses. Her smile was small and forced, but Walter didn't seem to notice. He went right back to what he was working on before she came. "Thanks."
"No problem, Sugar."
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The transport was stationed six blocks away from the main building, hidden behind an abandoned building since, in the desert, there was nothing else to use for cover. The air was dry as Carrie Beckman finished cutting a section of the wire fence surrounding Al Ghar. Beckman peeled back the metal barrier and the rest of the team snuck through the crevice with Michael bringing up the rear.
"Nikita, walk around to the side of the building and go through the doors. The rest of the team will wait outside until you've cleared the path. There isn't anyone in the immediate area of the door, so no one should see you enter." Birkoff knew Nikita knew what to do, but he still had to tell her again. Operations was pretty strict about these types of missions. Michael handed Nikita an electronic "key" and she unlocked the door. Pulling it open, she slipped inside quickly.
"I'm in Birkoff."
"Just outside the door in front of you is a long hallway. Leave the room and turn right. There's one obstacle in your path. From the infrared sensors it looks like a scientist. Take him out and continue to the core."
"Right." Even as she said this, Nikita saw the young man coming towards her. He didn't even notice her until he heard the click of her boots on the tile floor. ~God, he's so young. He can't be more than twenty-six. How could someone so young get mixed up in something like this? What am I saying, look at where I am.~ The scientist was wearing a white lab coat and when he saw Nikita, he started to panic.
"Who are you? You're not supposed to be he-" His sentence was cut short by a bullet from Nikita's gun silently tearing into his heart. Nikita hurried over to him and searched his pockets until she found what she was looking for- an access card.
"Birkoff, I found a card on him. It's a key."
"Keep it. You might need it later. Everyone to second mark." Michael opened the side door of Al Ghar and held it open until his team had gone inside.
"We're in." Michael's voice was steady and confident.
"Follow Nikita. Turn right in the hall. Nikita, keep going straight until you come to a white door with a zigzag line on it. Go in and go down the stairs. The rest of the team is following close behind. Keep going down until you come to a door with a man on it. Go inside and put on a blue biohazard suit, then rubber boots, double rubber gloves, and a racal hood. Wait for the others to catch up." Nikita followed his instructions after placing her gun on the inside of her left boot.
About this time, the rest of the Section team was entering the Level 2 decontamination vestibule and putting on their own biohazard suits and gear. Between the six of them, it shouldn't take more than ten minutes to get what they need and get back to the transport.
"All right, is everyone ready?"
As team leader, it was Michael's role to speak for the group. "We're all ready."
"Good. Michael, in the black bag you're carrying, there should be twelve swabs. They look like oversized Q-tips. Give everyone two swabs and two glass sample tubes. Take the packaging off the swabs, open the door marked four, and go down the stairs, into the lab. There shouldn't be anyone there. You should have enough time to plant the charge and get out before anyone realizes what's happening." Michael opened the door and Nikita entered, descending the eight steps to the lab, followed by Beckman, Johnson, Arriet, Howard, and finally Michael himself.
Looking around the lab, something caught Nikita's eye that was a little alarming. "Birkoff, there are five bioreactors in here." She didn't know what was in them, but she thought it was important that there were five of them. Each one seemed to be making something different.
"Five? That's more than we expected. Take samples from each and then sterilize them. Okay, everyone rub your swabs against something in a petri dish, a bioreactor, or anything you can find. Put it in the sample tube and seal the tube."
A minute later, there were twelve new samples for the Section laboratory to analyze. Nikita didn't actually know if Section One HAD a laboratory, or where it might be, but it seemed logical enough.
"We have the samples."
"Good. Take them back up to the deconn vestibule and put them in the metal box. The box should be in the black bag. Then take the hoses, turn them on, and bring them into the lab. Hose down EVERYTHING." Michael went back up to the deconn unit, brought back the black box, and opened it. Inside, the top was hollow and the bottom had a large piece of dark gray foam with twelve holes in it, just big enough for the sample tubes to fit in. Each operative put in their two samples and Michael closed the box. He went back up the stairs, but when he came back, instead of bringing the box, he brought twelve hoses. Handing one to each person, he told Arriet to go up and turn them on. Seconds later the hoses started to spew bleach, which had an overwhelming odor.
Within seven minutes, the entire lab had been worked over with bleach and was now sterilized. Michael planted a charge. The team now had another seven minutes to get out of the compound before Birkoff would set it off.
"Michael, get everyone back up to deconn, sterilize your suits and the walls and anything else in that room. Then get out as fast as you can." Running up the steps Michael opened the door and everyone rushed in, bringing the bleach hoses with them. Nikita was the last one in. She closed the door behind her and started to spray herself with bleach. The others followed her example.
"Okay, get out of there. The charge goes off in two minutes. There isn't anyone on the stairs but there's someone in the room you came in through. Shoot him and get out of there." Nikita opened the door to the stairs and ascended them as fast as she could, once again followed by the rest of the team. Heading for their exit door, Nikita was the first one to reach the room. Just before entering, she pulled her gun from her boot. She pushed open the door and got a clear shot at a middle-aged man getting some petri dishes. To the man, the shot came from no where. As he died, the glass he was carrying fell on the ground and shattered. The Section team just opened the door and slipped out as quietly as they had slipped in.
The six operatives ran to the fence, darted back under it, and ran for the transport. As they opened the transport door, the charge went off and the biowarfare lab exploded. Michael was the last one in the transport as he closed the door behind him, he heard a string of obscenities come from Andrew Howard. Nikita and everyone else was sitting down, resting. Birkoff and Michael turned to see what the problem was.
"What's wrong?" Birkoff sounded concerned and irritated.
"I'm wearing two t-shirts under a sweater. My sweater is soaked in bleach."
Birkoff's eyes got wide and his mouth felt dry. "Oh, God. He's contaminated. We all are."
Author's Note: Okay, this is my first La Femme Nikita Story and my first story to publish on the web. I have already started 'Contamination- part II', and I expect it to be online within the next week. I'd also like to point out that a character's thoughts are contained in '~'s. Enjoy!
©1999 Tierney Epstein, All Rights Reserved. Must have author's permission for any use other than printing for personal use or downloading to a personal file.
Contamination- Part I
by Mara
The mission was going as planned. Nikita was at her second mark, waiting for Birkoff to let her know her path was clear. All at once her com unit came to life.
"Go ahead Nikita. The hallway is clear, but in about two minutes, a
group of Aguilar's goons will reach it, so get in and get out."
"Gotcha Birkoff." With deft, precise movements Nikita glided down the corridor, ever watchful, never letting down her guard. She carefully entered an access code Madeline had gotten from a former Section One prisoner and held her breath. ~Nine. Five. Two. Seven. Three. Five. One. Seven. Nine. Zero.~ The steel panel slid to her right and Nikita turned to her left, pressing her back to the right side of the door frame, looking for any extra security measures or traps in the room. Section's Intel was very thorough, but not always 100% accurate. Once in a while there were unexpected surprises.
Swiftly Nikita turned ninety degrees to her left and stepped fully into the room, listening to the hiss of the door closing behind her. Taking in her surroundings quickly, she noted that the ceiling stood nearly fifteen feet high and the walls were bare and white. Nikita guessed that the room was about thirteen feet long and eight feet wide. A single wooden table stood in the middle of the blue and white checked tile floor, accompanied only by a worn-looking office chair. On the table sat a computer, a scattered mass of shredded papers, and a tangle of wires and cords.
"Okay, Nikita. The disk should be straight ahead on that table. It'll probably be in the port already, but check anyway."
Nikita set down her gun, pressed a button on the out surface of the computer and a small gold disk popped out. Kicking the chair out of her way, she reinserted it into the computer and set her fingers on the computer keys, trying to keep them relaxed. "It's in here Birkoff. Now what?"
"Type in backslash, D, semicolon, slash, lightening. You have a minute twenty-three left."
"I can do it." ~Okay.~ She mentally repeated Birkoff's instructions as she followed them systematically. ~Backslash, D, semicolon, slash, lightening.~
"It's downloading all the files." Nikita paused as she heard Birkoff's voice. She couldn't do anything but wait now.
"Michael, there are seven large bodies moving in Nikita's direction. Get there and take them out, fast. Fifty seconds, Nikita." Michael jogged silently, first down one hallway, then another, turning where Birkoff told him to. Right, left, left, right, left, right, right. Nikita's palm's started to sweat and her pulse accelerated slightly at the thought of Michael coming to protect her. She knew it was under orders, but it hardly mattered.
"The files are almost done." Ten seconds passed in silence. With every passing moment Nikita's heart beat more intensely until it was thundering in her head. "They're finished. I have the disk."
"Good, Nikita. Michael is waiting for you just outside the door. The guards will intercept you in fifteen seconds unless you get out of there." Nikita walked back to the door she had come in through and was startled when she saw no way to get out.
"Birkoff, how do I get out of here?"
"There should be a red button under the table, under the corner closest to the door. Press it and a key pad should slide out. Enter the code you used to get in. That should open the door." Covering the distance to the table in two strides, Nikita felt under the smooth wood for a catch mechanism. Feeling the button, she pressed it and a keypad glided into her field of vision. Reentering her access code, Nikita prayed that it would work. ~Nine. Five. Two. Seven. Three. Five. One. Seven. Nine. Zero.~ The keypad replaced itself underneath the table and the metal door once again slid into the wall.
Stepping into the hallway, Nikita saw Michael to her left. Before she had a chance to do anything, Michael's left hand cupped itself around the back of her neck and pushed her down. By the time his right hand, wielding his gun, had fired four nearly invisible shots, Nikita had her weapon raised and was taking care of the remaining three. All seven threats were dead.
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No matter how many missions she went on, it never seemed to get less painful, just more instinctive. It sickened Nikita that she could have conformed so quickly to the ways of these animals who had stolen her life from her. She hated to kill anyone. It didn't matter why. The only way she could justify the carnage to herself was by remembering that what Section did was stop terrorists.
Nikita was the last one off the transport. She walked through the circular doorway back to Section, pulling the black ski cap from her head, letting her long blonde hair fall to her back. She ran her fingers through it once and glared at Michael as she approached him. As she passed, his hand darted out and grabbed her upper arm in an iron grip. He turned his head so that their cheeks nearly touched and she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear. Michael's voice was low and sensual, barely loud enough for even Nikita to hear.
"I want to see you in my office after we debrief."
"Fine," was her chilled reply. Nikita's icy blue eyes bore into his brown ones, searching the depths of his soul for answers. Instead, she found only emptiness.
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Thirty minutes later, Nikita closed the metal door to Michael's office and turned to face him, her body still leaning against it. Michael secured the room from listening devices and closed the blinds. He just stood there for a moment, staring unseeingly at the metallic gray shutters, before he turned to look Nikita in the eye.
"You wanted to see me?" ~Two can play at this game. I can be just as impersonal as he can.~
"I know you were afraid today, when you thought you couldn't get out of that room in Constantinople."
"Is this why you wanted to see me? Of course I was afraid." Under her breath Nikita added something she didn't think Michael heard. "I'M human."
"Operations will think you're going soft again."
"To hell with Operations. And what do you care?"
Michael paused, looking back at the the blinds, away from Nikita. "I care," he said simply.
"Why?" Her gaze remained fixed on him, though his eyes would not meet hers. Her voice betrayed no emotion, yet her stomach twisted in anxious anticipation of he would say. Casually she crossed her ankles and let her head rest against the door, her lengthy tresses falling over her right cheek. Raising her right hand, Nikita twirled her hair loosely around her index finger, watching Michael with interest.
Michael knew very well that he couldn't tell Nikita that he loved her, though that would have been the correct answer to her question. It astounded as well as annoyed Michael that she didn't see it. He had used and tortured her emotional without mercy, all for Section. Surely she must know that he hated every minute of pain he caused her. He was ordered to find out things about her, personally, by pretending to be in love with her, but no one saw that he wasn't pretending. When he held her, when he kissed her, he felt a warmth deep inside that he never thought he'd feel again after Simone died. When Michael was with Nikita, the things he felt weren't ordered by Operations; those were things that no one could ever order him to feel. After much thought, Michael avoided the question by giving Nikita an answer that didn't really answer anything. "You're a good operative." He finally turned back to look at her. What he saw in her eyes nearly ripped him in half. What Michael saw in Nikita's eyes was contempt.
"Should I feel special?" Nikita's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why am I really here Michael?"
"I wanted to see you."
"Why?" This game was becoming more and more frequent of late. He'd stop to talk to her about something of no importance. It was beginning to irk her a great deal.
"I was wondering how you're doing."
"You mean about Jergen?" At the dead man's name Michael stiffened. This was beginning to make sense. Nikita smiled a little at his discomfort and rubbed a finger back and forth against her black leather pants. ~So that's why we wants to see me. He feels guilty. Maybe he's not completely inhuman after all.~ The movement caught Michael's eye and he stared at her hand moving against her leg as he thought of what to say next.
"Yes, and other things."
"I'm fine. Can I go now?" Michael's face changed visibly. He was almost hurt that she wanted to get away from him so badly.
"Yes." Michael turned to his desk and unsecured the room before returning to the chair behind his desk. Nikita put her hand on the door as if to leave but changed her mind and looked back to Michael instead. He was looking down at some papers on his desk.
"Thanks."
He answered her without even looking up. "Sure." His voice was so calculated and...cold. Nikita shivered a little at the thought.
~He's back to being Section's good little soldier boy. At least once in a while, when we're alone, the part of Michael that he keeps frozen inside melts and he seems human.~
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Back in her apartment, Nikita collapsed upon the couch. She was exhausted from the mission, as well as her meeting with Michael. ~Why does he always have to be so impossible?! Why do I let him get to me?!~ Nikita gave up searching for answers, frustrated that she couldn't come up with any. There was just no logical explanation for it. Maybe a hot shower would relax her and take her mind off the day's irritations.
Nikita walked into her bathroom, pushed the clear plastic door aside, and turned on the water. She held her right hand under the running water until she was satisfied with the temperature. Turning around, Nikita quickly pulled off all her clothes and her boots, set them on a chair, put her gun on the counter top, stepped into the shower, and slid the door shut behind her. Letting the warm water soothe away all her worries, Nikita's thoughts turned to Jergen. He had died over two months ago, and Michael was to blame. Michael was the one who had killed Jergen. He said that he had to do it to protect Section, but Nikita had her doubts. Michael had obviously hated Jergen. He had told her many things about Jergen that Jergen said were not true, and she wondered why. After all these months, she was no closer to the truth- about either of them.
When Nikita was through, she turned off the water, opened the shower door and blindly grabbed for a towel. She dried herself off, wrapped the towel around her body, and walked into her bedroom. Nikita's room was nice. Her bed was soft and comfortable, with white sheets, white pillows, and a white down comforter. On the wall to the left of the bed was the door to her bathroom and the door to her living room, on the wall to the right of the bed was a window that spanned across most of the wall. Also on the right side of the bed was a nightstand made of the same wood as the dresser, holding up a small metal lamp with a white shade. Past the foot of the bed, against the wall, was a waist-high dresser made of cherry wood with a vanity mirror. After putting on clean underwear, a thin, white, cotton camisole, and blue plaid, body-hugging pajama pants she removed from the dresser, Nikita stood in front of the mirror looking at herself thoughtfully as she rubbed her hair with the towel. ~I wonder what Michael's doing right now.~ Surprised at her own thought, Nikita quickly banished it from her mind.
Going into her bathroom, she hung the towel on the hook by the shower and quietly returned to her bedroom, carrying her gun. Nikita pulled back her sheets, lay down, pulled them up over her, and switched out the light on her bedside table. Glancing over at the cellular phone she had placed there when she finished her shower, Nikita hoped that tonight she could sleep without interruptions from Section.
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It was early afternoon when the phone rang. Nikita had spent her morning shopping before she stopped at a small cafe, where she ate a Caesar salad- alone. She knew that it was dangerous to have friends outside of Section, more for them than for her, but she still hated being alone all the time. It got lonely. On her way back to her apartment, only a few minutes after leaving the cafe, she received a call on her cell phone. Reaching into her 50's style black leather purse, Nikita withdrew the ringing object and flipped the top up, putting it to her ear as she kept walking towards home.
"Hello?"
"Josephine?"
"Yes?" Her voice was tight. Michael was the voice on the other end of the line.
"Briefing in twenty minutes."
"Okay. I'll be there." Adding a note of cheer to her voice as though she were talking to an old friend, Nikita hoped not to look suspicious to any passersby.
Nikita stopped by her apartment to drop off her packages and headed for Section.
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The briefing was routine. Seven operatives sat around a long, shiny black table while Operations told them where they were going, what they were going to do, and why they were going to do it.
"As you can see by this model, the Al Ghar Agricultural Facility in Iraq is circular and has one above ground floor. Our Intel tells us that there are two underground levels to this facility. It is a medical research instillation which we believe is producing biological weapons." Operations continued to pace the length of the table on the side opposite the operatives while he gave instructions and explanations. "Your orders are to get in, get samples of materials from the Level 4 Hot Zone, sterilize all four levels of biological activity, and destroy the lab."
Operatives rarely questioned Operations, but when someone did, it was usually Nikita. "How are we supposed to get inside?" ~And what the hell is going to keep us from those diseases?~
"Nikita, you will pose as a secretary and clear the path of all obstacles so the rest of the team can enter. The six of you will enter the Hot Zone while Birkoff manages things from a nearby transport. Once you are all inside, each of you will put on special suits and enter the core. Before leaving the Hot Zone, you will all be hosed down with bleach, so as not to contaminate anything outside the lab. the first level is a level 2 decontamination vestibule, the second is a level 4 biohazard lab. Any OTHER questions?" His tone of voice and the look he gave Nikita said he really just wanted her to keep her mouth shut.
"What happens after we have sterilized the compound?"
"You will simply return to the transport and return to Section One to debrief. All right, if that's all, the transport leaves in one hour." Each member of the team stood and left the room- everyone except Nikita. Once everyone else was gone, she uncrossed her legs and slowly got out of her chair. ~There's more to this than Operations is letting on. I wonder why we're really going. It just doesn't seem that simple.~
Walter looked up as Nikita approached his work area. She seemed bored and distracted. He smiled at her and gave his usual greeting. "Hey Sugar." He didn't seem surprised to see her.
"Hey Walter. I need a pair of glasses with a com unit and a camera." That said, he immediately turned around and opened a cabinet. One hand reached for a pair of glasses with thin, black, wire frames while the other continued to adjust a broken com unit.
"Sure. This for the Hot Zone mission?"
"Yep." Nikita took the glasses. Her smile was small and forced, but Walter didn't seem to notice. He went right back to what he was working on before she came. "Thanks."
"No problem, Sugar."
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The transport was stationed six blocks away from the main building, hidden behind an abandoned building since, in the desert, there was nothing else to use for cover. The air was dry as Carrie Beckman finished cutting a section of the wire fence surrounding Al Ghar. Beckman peeled back the metal barrier and the rest of the team snuck through the crevice with Michael bringing up the rear.
"Nikita, walk around to the side of the building and go through the doors. The rest of the team will wait outside until you've cleared the path. There isn't anyone in the immediate area of the door, so no one should see you enter." Birkoff knew Nikita knew what to do, but he still had to tell her again. Operations was pretty strict about these types of missions. Michael handed Nikita an electronic "key" and she unlocked the door. Pulling it open, she slipped inside quickly.
"I'm in Birkoff."
"Just outside the door in front of you is a long hallway. Leave the room and turn right. There's one obstacle in your path. From the infrared sensors it looks like a scientist. Take him out and continue to the core."
"Right." Even as she said this, Nikita saw the young man coming towards her. He didn't even notice her until he heard the click of her boots on the tile floor. ~God, he's so young. He can't be more than twenty-six. How could someone so young get mixed up in something like this? What am I saying, look at where I am.~ The scientist was wearing a white lab coat and when he saw Nikita, he started to panic.
"Who are you? You're not supposed to be he-" His sentence was cut short by a bullet from Nikita's gun silently tearing into his heart. Nikita hurried over to him and searched his pockets until she found what she was looking for- an access card.
"Birkoff, I found a card on him. It's a key."
"Keep it. You might need it later. Everyone to second mark." Michael opened the side door of Al Ghar and held it open until his team had gone inside.
"We're in." Michael's voice was steady and confident.
"Follow Nikita. Turn right in the hall. Nikita, keep going straight until you come to a white door with a zigzag line on it. Go in and go down the stairs. The rest of the team is following close behind. Keep going down until you come to a door with a man on it. Go inside and put on a blue biohazard suit, then rubber boots, double rubber gloves, and a racal hood. Wait for the others to catch up." Nikita followed his instructions after placing her gun on the inside of her left boot.
About this time, the rest of the Section team was entering the Level 2 decontamination vestibule and putting on their own biohazard suits and gear. Between the six of them, it shouldn't take more than ten minutes to get what they need and get back to the transport.
"All right, is everyone ready?"
As team leader, it was Michael's role to speak for the group. "We're all ready."
"Good. Michael, in the black bag you're carrying, there should be twelve swabs. They look like oversized Q-tips. Give everyone two swabs and two glass sample tubes. Take the packaging off the swabs, open the door marked four, and go down the stairs, into the lab. There shouldn't be anyone there. You should have enough time to plant the charge and get out before anyone realizes what's happening." Michael opened the door and Nikita entered, descending the eight steps to the lab, followed by Beckman, Johnson, Arriet, Howard, and finally Michael himself.
Looking around the lab, something caught Nikita's eye that was a little alarming. "Birkoff, there are five bioreactors in here." She didn't know what was in them, but she thought it was important that there were five of them. Each one seemed to be making something different.
"Five? That's more than we expected. Take samples from each and then sterilize them. Okay, everyone rub your swabs against something in a petri dish, a bioreactor, or anything you can find. Put it in the sample tube and seal the tube."
A minute later, there were twelve new samples for the Section laboratory to analyze. Nikita didn't actually know if Section One HAD a laboratory, or where it might be, but it seemed logical enough.
"We have the samples."
"Good. Take them back up to the deconn vestibule and put them in the metal box. The box should be in the black bag. Then take the hoses, turn them on, and bring them into the lab. Hose down EVERYTHING." Michael went back up to the deconn unit, brought back the black box, and opened it. Inside, the top was hollow and the bottom had a large piece of dark gray foam with twelve holes in it, just big enough for the sample tubes to fit in. Each operative put in their two samples and Michael closed the box. He went back up the stairs, but when he came back, instead of bringing the box, he brought twelve hoses. Handing one to each person, he told Arriet to go up and turn them on. Seconds later the hoses started to spew bleach, which had an overwhelming odor.
Within seven minutes, the entire lab had been worked over with bleach and was now sterilized. Michael planted a charge. The team now had another seven minutes to get out of the compound before Birkoff would set it off.
"Michael, get everyone back up to deconn, sterilize your suits and the walls and anything else in that room. Then get out as fast as you can." Running up the steps Michael opened the door and everyone rushed in, bringing the bleach hoses with them. Nikita was the last one in. She closed the door behind her and started to spray herself with bleach. The others followed her example.
"Okay, get out of there. The charge goes off in two minutes. There isn't anyone on the stairs but there's someone in the room you came in through. Shoot him and get out of there." Nikita opened the door to the stairs and ascended them as fast as she could, once again followed by the rest of the team. Heading for their exit door, Nikita was the first one to reach the room. Just before entering, she pulled her gun from her boot. She pushed open the door and got a clear shot at a middle-aged man getting some petri dishes. To the man, the shot came from no where. As he died, the glass he was carrying fell on the ground and shattered. The Section team just opened the door and slipped out as quietly as they had slipped in.
The six operatives ran to the fence, darted back under it, and ran for the transport. As they opened the transport door, the charge went off and the biowarfare lab exploded. Michael was the last one in the transport as he closed the door behind him, he heard a string of obscenities come from Andrew Howard. Nikita and everyone else was sitting down, resting. Birkoff and Michael turned to see what the problem was.
"What's wrong?" Birkoff sounded concerned and irritated.
"I'm wearing two t-shirts under a sweater. My sweater is soaked in bleach."
Birkoff's eyes got wide and his mouth felt dry. "Oh, God. He's contaminated. We all are."