I was blessed with totally free weekend and even awful weather says to me: Update your fanfics! So ...I decided to do so. But…. Obviously in the process, inspired by yesterdays outstanding episode I decided to start another one. Promise it won't be long and I will try to update regularly.

(Update of Near Wild Heaven is on its way though.)

So…. It takes place after Michael gets his new hand, Sean doesn't die. Amanda's games are obviously on. The rest you will learn reading the fic.

Enjoy! :D

I still don't own anything.

Prologue: "Are you True?"

He was going to die today.

Michael jumped behind the car parked near the dumpster breathing heavily with effort. He was still holding his gun in a firm grasp though the magazine was empty.

An old Chevy was a mere protection from the hail of bullets. He heard the metal cracking under the fire of automatic guns. It won't hold for much longer.

Michael looked around. There was no way out. They were closing in on him and he was heavily outnumbered.

" Birkoff" he tapped his ear piece. "I was caught in an ambush. I need back up. "

"Alex and Sean are 10 minutes away. Hold on there buddy." Michael heard anxious voice.

"Copy that." Michael tried to sound confident but he knew that 10 minutes is long. Too long.

He took out extra bullets from underneath his Kevlar. The backup amo he kept only for desperate situations. His hand was steady while he was filling the clip but shallow breaths were the ones that betrayed his anxiety. He closed the magazine with a click and released the safety lock.

4 bullets won't be enough to stop them. But maybe they will buy him those precious 10 minutes.

That was a reckless idea to go here on his own. But what else could he do? They were out of the Personel, Sean and Alex were busy tracking Lauren Gordon- one of the 10 rogue Division agents they still needed to catch.

It was only him Birkkoff and Ryan in the Ops when the Intel popped out. Human trafficking group they were observing, was planning a big drop in the docks of New Jersey. That was one and only opportunity to stop them and Michael didn't intend to fail.

Only thing he didn't expect is that they will show up in full force. 20 men against one was a tough nut to crack.

He didn't regret it though. He had no reason to live anymore so what is a better way to die than while fighting for a good cause?

He clenched his hand on a gun recalling the day everything had ended.

Or at least he thought it would end. He though he was not able to breath anymore and yet he was waking up every single day disappointed with the picture of world still spinning.

His strength was his curse. He knew he can survive many things, but he never thought he could bear this much. Watching all the people he loved going away while he was still here.

Elisabeth. Hayley. Nikita. Images of them all unraveled in his head.

"Peace of the ones who passed doesn't soothe the pain of those who were left behind. " Michael knew that too well from his own experience.

Five months of despair and longing. 14 years of guilt. And now, finally it will all end. He sighed, took a deep breath and raised from behind the Chevy.

He was going to die today. But not without a fight.

With unnatural speed of trained assassin he fired all the bullets one after another burying them in enemies' bodies until they managed to pull the trigger. A moment of silence filled the alley. Michael turned around to get away from there when he felt bullet missing his ear just inches away and saw it sank into the wall in front of him. Pieces of bring spattering around.

Michael turned around immediately and saw almost 2 meters tall guy with a black pony tail. Michael glanced at his useless gun and swallowed. Time was over. Alex and Sean still 6 minutes away.

Smile of triumph appeared on the mobster's scarried face.

Michael felt a glimpse of regret that this will be the last image of his life. He watched him pull a trigger and waited for the unavoidable. Seconds were passing slowly, he heard every beat of his heart which was still desperate to pump the blood through his veins.

At this moment he thought of Nikita. About their last happy moment together. About her smile, and eyes flickering with passion.

He saw fat guy's gun fired, but he didn't feel the bullet. Did he miss? Or is he in that much of pain that even bullet can't do more harm?

It turned out he missed. Michael watched with shock his enemy's eyes frozen with pain and his body hit the pavement. Michael gasped seeing a knife buried in the middle of his back.

He looked around hectically and noticed hooded figure across the street. Whoever that was, had to be well trained to throw knifes like that. Definitely not a mobster. But that made him only more dangerous. Not thinking twice, Michael took dead man's gun and pointed it at the intruder eying him carefully. Though he was standing in the dimmed light of a lantern and was wearing a big hooded sweater , Michael could tell he is quite tiny. Almost female tiny.

Hooded person twitched seeing he is at the gunpoint. Michael cocked the gun ready to fire.

„No! Stop!" he heard a voice which seemed to be a delusion. The voice which he was about to never hear again because it belonged to….

Figure took off the hood and raised hands in gesture of peace.

"Don't shoot." Nikita gasped.

Michael froze, his eyes wide as he stared at her. He blinked but she was still there. Alive and well.

For the last 5 months he saw her face only in his dreams and yet she was here, standing only few feet away. He couldn't be mistaken. It was his Nikita. Only few pounds thinner and with shorter hair. She was wearing a black oversize hoodie and grey pants. He tried to read something from her face but she refused to look at him.

Suddenly he reminded himself of all the things he dreamt to say to her if he only had a chance. He opened his mouth but all words failed him as he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

He desperately needed to hear an explanation. A good one.

But all he got was quiet yet clear "I'm sorry" before she disappeared behind a corner. Again.

And? Any thoughts/suggestions?