Disclaimers are in the first part.
Chapter 02 - I Feel
She shut the door to her apartment with her foot, sighed, and looked at the ceiling.
Finally. Home again.
Nikita threw her coat carelessly over the couch and lit some candles. Then she went to the kitchenette and poured herself some wine. She smiled bitterly. A half-full glass was still standing on the counter; she hadn't had time to finish it before her last mission.
That had been six days ago.
In six days she'd traveled half-way around the world, been captured and probably drugged, finally been freed, only to find herself at the kitchen counter again, a glass of red wine in her hand.
Nikita asked herself how much time she'd have to drink this one.
***
"Hey, Walter." Nikita dropped onto a chair and yawned.
The weapons expert smiled briefly at her. "Rough night?"
"Rough week."
Walter looked up from the bomb he was currently inspecting. "I heard about that, sugar. Didn't they give you at least some downtime?"
"Why?" She sounded sarcastic. "I haven't been shot or tortured or anything. I'm fine. Why should they give me downtime? And I have to get that report to Madeline." She held up a small disc. "Have you seen Michael today?"
Walter frowned. Nikita's behavior towards Michael had been frosty ever since the Peruze mission a month ago; he couldn't really blame her for that. "Nope. Haven't seen him since you've been brought in. And no, I don't know where he is."
Nikita sighed and stood up. "Thanks, Walter."
"Anytime, sugar."
***
"This," Operations pointed towards a picture on the holo-screen, "is Max Harris."
Nikita tried to focus on the briefing but failed miserably. She was consumed by feelings, strange feelings...
Coldness, Ruthlessness, Hate...
But they felt funny, they weren't her own. As yesterday in Med Lab, something was inside her head, and the pain attacked with such force that Nikita wanted to scream. It came in waves and seemed to get stronger with each one. She swallowed, digging her nails into her palms until the skin broke.
Anger
"Nikita!"
Her head snapped up and Operations glared at her. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"I... yes," she stuttered nervously. The pain was gone, leaving nothing but a fading memory of emotions that hadn't been her own.
***
Of course Nikita hadn't listened to Operations, so she studied her PDA during the long flight to California.
The target's name was Max Harris, a hacker at the age of twenty-five. He had connections to several terrorist organisations and Section needed to copy his hard drive to obtain his list of contacts. Harris lived in a villa in Beverly Hills, with his twin sister Diana. They were orphans and had never been adopted, thus shared a very close bond. Diana was unaware of her brother's activities, thinking he headed a software company. The only way to get into the house was to gain Diana's trust, a mission Michael had already accomplished by seducing her.
Nikita rubbed her eyes. At least that explained his frequent absences. Another Valentine mission.
Michael knew the necessary codes to gain access to the room where Max's main computer was located. Max hardly ever left his room, but this evening his sister had organized a birthday party for the both of them: a perfect opportunity. Nikita and the rest of the team would be backup, pretending to be guests or members of the party service.
It seemed easy enough.
She switched off the PDA and stared at the azure ocean beneath her. So much water... you could quite easily drown in it…
Close your eyes and let yourself fall… just sink until it's too late and you give up your struggle, lose consciousness... What do you feel when you drown? Panic? The survival instinct inside of you screaming to fight, to swim to the surface, to open your mouth and gasp for air? Or some odd sense of peace, knowing that your fate was sealed?
Drawing in a shuddering breath, Nikita barely suppressed a sob. The pain was coming back again, slowly. And she could feel shades of emotions...
Nervousness, Boredom, Indifference...
She swallowed two painkillers and fell into an uneasy sleep.
***