"Nikita?" Michael questions shaking the unconscious form in front of him.
Nikita's body slumps to the side, her face covered in bruises. Acts of countless torture are written across her body as the pinkie on her left hand sits dislocated and two finger nails on her right hand have been removed, a bloody pulp remaining. Her body is stripped down to her underclothes, bright purple bruises radiate across her ribs and chest. Dried blood has begun to flake where a small blade has broken skin on her collarbone – three deep lacerations on each side. Her wrists and ankles are raw, the skin broken as through she has been fighting with some restraints. Michael looks around the room and finds an old barbers chair modified with wrist and ankle shackles, next to it on a surgical table are electrician plyers covered in crimson and a bloodied scalpel. He inhales deeply, the mustiness of the dungeon like room clogging up his nose and he feels sick to his stomach imagining the love of his life being trapped and tortured in a place like this.
"Birkoff, I need a medevac now! Nikita is down and it's bad!" Michael shouts into his com his voice full of panic.
"Alex and Ow – Sam are on their way Mikey, don't worry; she'll be okay. She has to be, it's Nikki." Birkoff reassures picking up on Michael's tone. "ETA 4mins."
"I don't know – I don't think she'll last that long…" Michael announces the words catching on a lump in his throat. He puts his hand on Nikita's neck and checks for a pulse, her skin glacial beneath this finger. He removes his black leather trench coat and drapes it across Nikita's cold frame. "Birkoff, we need them to get here sooner. Nikita has a pulse but it's thready and becoming fainter by the second." Michael barks alarmingly into the com, hoping Birkoff will hear his desperation.
"Guy's any way you can get there any sooner? Nikki is walking on thin ice. We don't have much time." Birkoff states matter-of-factly.
"Copy that, we'll come as quick as we can. Sam, put your foot down." Alex utters fear in her voice.
"Come on Nikita, you can't go like this." Michael whispers brushing Nikita's blood soaked hair behind her ear…. He reaches is hand under her body and takes her into his arms. Below her body he sees a pool of blood previously concealed by her fragile frame – an unidentified wound which he can now feel oozing onto his forearm. "Nikita..." He whispers hopelessly pressing his face into her hair.
72 HOURS EARLIER…
Nikita, Michael, Alex, Sam and Birkoff stand in Ryan's office as he pitches a new mission.
"We have had recent intel from a source in Germany that rogue agent Miles Nelson is working freelance out the back of a betting shop in Cologne. He has previously had contracts that we know of with M15 and Gogol, just some simple assassinations of diplomatic leaders the government didn't want to get their hands dirty with, sounds like he hasn't strayed too far from home." Ryan addresses the people in front of him brining a profile up of Nelson on the big screen. Next to the information on Nelson there is a photo showing a heavy built man in his early 30's with dark hair and even darker eyes – or should I say eye.
"Nelson, I remember him – I trained him." Michael interjects staring at the long scar on Trevor's face. "He was pretty reckless and wouldn't listen to many of us in ops. He was on a mission in Hong Kong and I told him to watch his back but he ignored me, resulted in losing an eye when he was attacked with a machete by his target Jing Sun. Nelson with one eye and severe blood loss mutilated Jing Sun beyond recognition, Roan had a hard time on that scene getting it squeaky clean. Percy would have normally insisted on instant cancellation but for some reason saw something more in him so kept him in the background."
"Another loony to add to his own personal loony bin." Birkoff dejects scoffing.
"So, what's the plan?" Nikita asks eager to get dug in, frustrated waiting around division.
"Well, we know he's holed up in a betting shop – a front for his freelance business. The problem is getting to him without arousing too much suspicion. The betting shop is very up market for celebrities and diplomats, general public is a no go. We need someone to go in as a potential client – Mikey he already knows you so you are stuck with surveillance from a van parked outside the address. Alex, you are probably the best bet here, being a new trustee to the Zetrov bankroll and all. Owen and Nikita, you will be Alexandra Udinov's "muscle" protecting her from potential problems that may arise in a business transaction such as this one. As usual Birkoff and I will be watching you guys from ops, we'll be your eyes and ears. Any questions?" Ryan states.
The rest of the room falls silent, Michael glances at Nikita with a furrowed brow.
"No? Good, well wheels up will be in 1 hour. Get ready and I'll you topside soon." Ryan dismisses everyone from his office and they all head off and get ready.
Nikita and Michael head to the armoury where they pick up their weapons for the mission.
"I'm not happy about you going in their alone." Michael states picking up a HK MP5 shoving it into a black duffle bag on the table behind him.
"I won't be alone." Nikita insists shrugging off Michaels worries as she puts a fresh cartridge in her Sig Sauer P226.
"Okay, I'll rephrase that, I don't like the idea of you going in there without me." Michael adds desperately. "Something is not sitting right with me, call it a gut instinct."
"Michael," Nikita utters placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You'll be able to see and hear what's happening on the ground, like old times. If anything goes wrong, you can come rushing in. It'll be fine."
Michael takes his hand and places it on Nikita's cheek looking deeply into her eyes. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."
"With you and Birkoff looking over the operation, nothing is going to happen." Nikita reassures offering Michael a small peck on the cheek. "I'm just going to sort a few things out; I'll catch up with you topside."
Nikita walks out of the armoury leaving Michael alone. He watches her turn into the corridor as a feeling of impeding dooms hangs over him, a pit growing deeper in his stomach.
"I hope you're right," He mutters after her.
So you got the end...I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I know that it's kinda short I'm just putting my toe in to test the water. See how many Nikita fans we have on here. I would really appreciate just a short review, fav or follow to show that you enjoyed the story, and hopefully I won't have to cancel it... Happy Fic-ing all, love Ash - AKA Matash21.