Chapter One
Seymour Birkhoff walked slowly down the cold winter street. Normally he would be in Division working but after that evening's horrible events, he knew that he just had to get out of there for a while. It was a chilly night, Birkhoff pulled the collar of his jacket tight to his neck. The cloudy sky made the night dark. Angrily he shoved his hands in her pockets as he continued to walk.
The night had started off normally but after dinner, instead of heading to his room for a movie, Sonya had asked to talk. Things weren't working, she explained. They just hadn't been right. It was time to move on. Birkhoff just didn't understand. He thought things were going well. After Sonya had left, he got into his car and drove. When he found himself in New York City, he parked and started to just walk. Sure it wasn't the best place to walk alone at night, but he wasn't thinking clearly.
There had already been a lot of life in Birkhoff's semi-young life. Luckily this wasn't that kind of loss, but it was still a loss and still unsettling. He walked quickly trying to work off his frustration. So distracted by emotions, Birkhoff didn't hear footsteps following behind him in a steady pattern, occasionally splashing in puddles left from the rain earlier in the day. Birkhoff's first hint something was wrong came when the hair on his arms suddenly stood up on end. He had no chance to respond when a sudden blow to the back of his head dropped him to the semi-wet cement, unconscious. A van pulled up and two more people got out, pulling the unconscious tech into it. "That was a lot easier than I thought." Amanda laughed, pulling the van out into traffic and driving away.
Awhile later in Operations, Sonya announced, "Michael, we have a problem."
Michael, who was standing in front of Operations, turned towards Sonya. "What is it?" he asked, walking back towards her station.
"Birkhoff's tracker has gone off-line." She reported back to him.
Finding it strange that Sonya had referred to him as Birkhoff instead of Seymour as she normally did. He shook it off as a lover's spat and asked, "When's the last time you had him?'
Punching a few buttons, Sonya reported, "Tracker last online twenty minutes ago near Times Square."
Michael scratched his head. "What is he doing there?"
"He was upset. I think he went out to burn off some anger." Sonya replied.
It didn't take a genius to figure out between Sonya's change in use of his name and the fact she knew he was angry to figure out she had broken up with him. Michael felt bad for Birkhoff and part of him wished Birkhoff would have come to him about it instead of going wandering off. "Do we have any surveillance video?"
A couple of techs punched at their stations trying to pull up video. Meanwhile Michael keyed his earpiece. "Nikita, Ryan, we need you in Ops. We have a problem."
"Be right there." Ryan replied, almost instantly appearing in Ops from his office.
"What's up?" Nikita asked over the radio.
"Come up to Ops and I'll let you know." Michael didn't want to say it over the radio and freak out all of Division.
"what's going on?" Ryan asked, coming over to Michael.
"Birkhoff is missing. His tracker went offline twenty minutes ago in New York City." Michael reported.
Shock covered Ryan's face. "What?"
"I have something." One of the techs announced, instantly pulling surveillance video up onto the big screens at the front of the room.
Michael instantly recognized Birkhoff's shadowy figure at the top of the image. "Play it." Michael and Ryan walked towards the screen.
Everyone in Operations quietly watched as Birkhoff's shadowy figure trudged down the sidewalk. It was obvious that when the shadowy figure appeared behind him, Birkhoff had not been aware of it. Operation was practically silent as they watched Birkhoff get knocked unconscious and then dragged into the back of a van. "Nerd?" Nikita's voice broke through the silence as everyone watched in horror.
"Everyone, we have a new mission." Michael explained, "We need to rescue Birkhoff. I need you to try and isolate the pictures of the driver of the van and to try to find who kidnapped him." He announced, ever though they all had a gut feeling that it had been Amanda. "then we need you to try and find out where that van is now."
As the techs began to search for Birkhoff, Nikita, Ryan and Michael stood in the middle of the room. "How did this happen?" Nikita asked.
"It appears Sonya may have broken up with him and he didn't take it well. He drove for a while then got out to walk it off and somehow he was abducted." Michael explained the situation to Nikita and Ryan.
"Poor Nerd." Nikita replied, her head hung down.
"Why would anyone want Birkhoff?" Ryan asked.
"He's a genius.' Michael replied, "He can do all kinds of things for someone who kidnaps him."
Nikita and Ryan knew this was true. With the mind games Amanda could play she could really screw with Birkhoff too. They had to find him and rescue him before anything bad could happen. "This is not good." Nikita was clearly looking at it the same way that Michael was.
"What's going on?" Alex and Sean came running in. "We heard over the radio that there may be some major problem."
Michael nodded in confirmation. "Birkhoff's been grabbed."
"B? By Amanda?" Alex asked, knowing firsthand the damage Amanda could inflict.
"That's our guess." Ryan replied, looking at Sean, then Alex, both of them completely shocked.
"We've gotta find him!"
When Birkhoff woke up, the back of his head was throbbing. Slowly everything came back to him- Sonya's dumping him, then driving and walking around before being kidnapped. He tried to move but his arms and legs were both tied to a bed frame. Looking around the room, he had no idea where he was. The room was dark, but he could see enough to tell he was in a big, empty space and that he was alone. It honestly reminded him a lot of Nikita's original lair when she took him hostage in the beginning.
Birkhoff had no idea what to do. He was tied down, he hadn't told anyone where he was going and he had no idea where he was. On top of that he had no idea what his captor would want. Sure there were a lot of things he could do for them, but that left a bunch of options for what they would want him for. The scarier part of the question was what they would do to him to get what they want.
The door opened slowly, but Birkhoff couldn't see who had entered. A shutter went down his spine as he heard heels clicking on the cement floor, reminding him of one specific person. He realized when he saw a young woman approach him, not Amanda. "Hi Birkhoff, I'm Charlotte." She introduced herself with a condescending tone that also reminded him of Amanda.
"Hi Charlie." He didn't care if he pissed her off, in fact he was trying for it.
"I prefer Charlotte." She calmly replied, not giving him an inch. By her demeanor Birkhoff could instantly tell who it was she was working for.
"What am I doing here?" Birkhoff questioned her.
"What aren't you here for?" Charlotte cockily replied. "We'll get to that later though. How is your head?"
"Why do you care?" he asked, definitely not in the mood for small talk.
"You're going to be here awhile, so you may as well make it pleasant." Charlotte replied.
"That's what you think." Birkhoff replied in his typically cocky manor. "I have a lot of friends who will be looking for me."
Shrugging her shoulders, Charlotte replied, "You won't be found. At least, not until we want them to find you."
"You underestimate my friends." Birkhoff replied.
"You," she leaned down into Birkhoff's face, "Underestimate us."
Birkhoff gave her a cocky smile but was rewarded with a sick thwap across his face from the butt of her gun. His head shot to the side, then he pulled his head back up, blood gushing from his laps, his jaw completely sore, if not broken. "If you think that's going to upset me, you're dead wrong." Birkhoff spit out some of the blood pouring into his mouth.
"Don't worry." She replied, "We have so much more in store for you. I hear you've had your right hand crushed before."
Birkhoff immediately knew that statement had confirmed his worst fear- Amanda was behind this. He didn't get much of a chance to process that information before Charlotte brought down the butt of her gun onto his right hand. IF the first time breaking it had been bad, the second time was at least ten times worse. As Birkhoff screamed in pain, she calmly walked over and lift the gun, slamming it down onto his other hand and causing his screams to get even louder. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes at the intensity of the pain. "Why are you doing this to me?" he looked up at her.
"Don't worry," she said with a laugh, "We'll get you fixed up, but we have to show you who's in charge. I hope I won't have to remind you again, I won't be so gentle next time."
