"Amanda is gonna have to wait," explained Michael as he untied Nikita from Amanda's chair.
"Division?" Nikita asked, anxiety forming inside her immediately.
"We have to get back," Michael added. Once Nikita was free, she stood up quickly. She was still feeling groggy, having woken up from Amanda's drug-induced hallucination mere moments ago, but she willed herself into focus; she didn't have the luxury to "take it easy", as they say. Michael was already halfway to the door when Nikita called out, "Wait."
He stopped and turned around. "Nikita, all hell was breaking loose there when I left. I'll explain on the way, but we have to go."
"No," she said firmly, anger creeping into her voice. "Whatever's happening is because of her, Michael, she's not getting away this time. Besides, they're gonna take your tracker out of the black box any minute." She held out her hand. "I need a gun, quickly."
Michael's face indicated that he was more than a bit hesitant to pursue this course of action, but he knew that between chasing Amanda, going back to Division and standing there arguing, the last option was clearly the least wise. He reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a pistol and handed it to her. As soon as the (thankfully, already loaded) weapon was in Nikita's hands, she ran out through the same back door Amanda and Sam had just used, Michael right behind her.
The first thing Nikita noticed upon exiting the warehouse was that they were in some kind of abandoned port. The second was Amanda getting her into the driver seat of her large car, Sam keeping his gun trained on her as he slipped into the passenger seat.
"Michael!" she called out and pointed at the car. They began running towards the vehicle; fortunately it wasn't too far, and therefore soon within their firing range. They both opened fire on the car simultaneously, and this was not missed by Amanda who revved up the engine and began to drive away. However, among the hail of bullets, both of Amanda's back tires were hit and the car grinded to a halt as they emptied of air.
Not one to react slowly, Amanda opened the car door and began to flee, all as Nikita and Michael continued to draw nearer. "Hey!" yelled Sam, exiting the car too. He was clearly about to chase Amanda himself, but one of Michael's shots shattering the right side mirror, mere inches from him, made him rethink that course of action. He began running in the other direction.
"You get him, I'll get Amanda," Nikita shouted at her fiancé before taking off. "And Michael – "
"I know, I'll try not to kill him," he shouted back, sounding more than bit frustrated as he too began chasing his quarry.
Adrenaline is truly the best drug, Nikita thought for the most fleeting of moments while running as fast as her legs would carry her, gradually closing in on Amanda. She had already forgotten about feeling woozy upon waking up in Amanda's chair; her sheer focus and determination were like a fire raging inside her, keeping her going. After all the death and destruction Amanda had wrought, she had no intention of allowing that woman to get away yet again.
Suddenly, Amanda stopped dead in her tracks. Within seconds, Nikita was standing only ten feet away from her, at which point she finally noticed that they were standing on a dock. Her enemy had reached a dead end, with nowhere to go.
Nikita cocked her pistol loudly, to make her intent clear, and pointed it at the back of Amanda's head. "Turn around slowly and put your hands in the air. Now."
Amanda complied with the former command but not the latter. Her hands were still by her sides as she glared at Nikita, her expression a paradoxical mixture of surrender and defiance.
"End of the line," Nikita said through gritted teeth, the barrel of her gun pointing right between Amanda's eyes. "Now put your hands up, I'm not gonna tell you again."
"Why complicate this so much?" Amanda asked in the faux-innocent tone Nikita knew so well. "No reason for you not to shoot me. This has to end at some point, right?"
"No," spat out Nikita, "I'm not giving you the easy way out. You're coming with us. You're going to be tried for your crimes, so the whole world knows exactly what kind of monster you are. And then you'll have years in prison to think about all the people you slaughtered to satisfy your sick obsession with me."
"You make a good point," Amanda said with the barest of smiles, almost as if she was once again proud of her star student. "I am a monster – you've just seen why. Major Matthew Collins created a monster in his basement, and then – what, seventeen years later? – she created her own. I created you."
Nikita felt her hands beginning to shake ever so slightly. She tightened her grip on the gun. "And here I thought I was beautiful and special. What went wrong, Amanda?"
"Nothing," she mused, still vaguely smiling as if they were discussing things over coffee. "Because a monster is what people like us need to be to get the job done. You just couldn't accept that - neither could Alex, because as hard as I tried to make her everything she was meant to be, she just went running back to you."
"As if you weren't just using her, the way you used me," Nikita fired, no longer bothering to keep her emotions in check. "That's all we were to you, pawns to play with."
"You still believe that?" Amanda quirked an eyebrow, curiosity coloring her tone for the first time. "Well, I shouldn't be surprised. That's the same naïve thinking that got you to believe you're some kind of heroine." She took a step forward. "You think all I ever wanted was to break you the way my father did to me. But you see, he didn't. As much as he hurt me, what matters is I became stronger than ever. Strong enough to survive. So yes, I was tough on you, on Alex, on every single recruit in Division. So you'd be strong. So you'd survive the way I did. I wasn't trying to break you… I was trying to build you up."
Nikita's head was buzzing after hearing Amanda's speech. She knew Amanda was the queen of manipulation, so all of this was probably no more than an attempt to get Nikita to lower her guard. But part of her remained doubtful… still, even if her words were true, it didn't make Amanda any less horrible. And sure didn't matter now.
"Say whatever you want," Nikita retorted, the calm returning to her voice and face. "I don't care. Alex is the proof that it doesn't take your mind games and torture to become strong. I gave her the good I got from you, not the bad, and now she's better than both of us."
"She's no less a monster than either of us," Amanda sneered. "We're all monsters, Nikita. I'm just the only one who's honest about it."
"Good for you. Now, for the last time – get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head."
"I'm not going to go quietly, Nikita," she hissed, and this time there was venom bubbling under her calm façade. "I'm not letting you win this without even getting your hands dirty. Shoot me; don't pretend, once again, that backing down is a moment of strength." Her pronunciation of that last word was dripping with disgust.
"Well, guess what? These aren't our only options," spat Nikita, before lowering her gun to shoot Amanda right above her left foot.
Amanda screamed in agony, collapsing on the wooden ground as blood seeped from the wound and stained her pant leg. When she looked up at Nikita, her face burned with such fury that Nikita had to suppress the urge to look away.
"I don't want to have to hurt you any more than this," Nikita added, but it was difficult for her to keep her voice steady now. Shooting Amanda had not felt quite as cathartic as she had imagined.
She did not expect what happened next. With great effort, that was evident in the sweat on her face and unnerving groans of pain, and even greater determination, Amanda stood up on her injured leg.
"I guess it's over, then," she rasped, her choked voice demonstrating the pain every additional moment of standing caused her. And then, incredibly enough, she once again flashed a smile. "Take care of Alex, will you? I still have a soft spot for that girl."
"What are you talking about?" Nikita was so confused that her grip on the gun was becoming slack.
"Goodbye, Nikita," Amanda said, shades of regret, sorrow and acceptance playing across her features. And then, in a lightning-quick movement, she reached down to her belt to pull out a gun of her own. Nikita had been so taken aback by her previous comment that she didn't react fast enough, but Amanda did not take advantage of this opportunity to shoot Nikita. Instead, she pressed the gun to her own temple, squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
All the air seemed to vanish from Nikita's lungs as she stood there, stunned, the gun falling out of her hands. Amanda fell off the dock and into the water, the sound of the impact sending chills through Nikita's entire body. She somehow pulled herself out of the daze to run forward until she was standing on the edge of the dock, and then watched what she came to realize was Amanda's dead body floating in the water. Her eyes were still closed in what almost seemed like relief, or even serenity.
Nikita slowly sat down as she watched her Division mentor's body slowly drifting away. The outdoor cold, especially with her only wearing a tank top, suddenly became much more apparent and she hugged her knees to her chest, shaking slightly. Even as she remembered Michael's words about the situation in Division, she couldn't bring herself to leave just yet.
It only seemed to take a few minutes, although Nikita wasn't really focused on the time, before Michael appeared, ranting about how Sam had managed to take off with the black box. Nikita was only half-hearing him, her eyes still on the water, and it didn't take long before Michael caught that. In the dark and with the body already a fair distance from them, Michael couldn't recognize it, but it was easy to put two and two together given Nikita's demeanor.
"She did it, Michael," Nikita said slowly, still sounding confused as if she was unsure of her words. "She wouldn't come with me… but she didn't try to kill me, either. She killed herself."
It clearly took a moment for this to sink in for Michael. In slow, almost careful movements, he sat down beside Nikita, and she gently laid her head on his right shoulder as he slid an arm around hers. Even as they both knew they had to return to Division as soon as possible, Michael realized Nikita needed a moment. And so they watched in silence, as what was left of Helen Collins faded into the dark horizon.