"So. Money really is the root of all evils," Cassandra summarized, staring at the impressive board in front of her. All of their intelligence combined with the black books created an impressive sight. Ryan was doing his best to dig through it all. Kara helped, organizing their intel as they went. Nikita, Alex, and Pj sat around blueprints and sketches as they formulated some sort of attack plan. So far, they had created a dual strike against a known Shop organization and one of their bank accounts. It would cripple them financially enough to draw leaders out of hiding, and make them desperate.
To be prepared with a hack once the mission went active, Birkhoff, Sonya, and Felicity were planting cyber traps. Sean and Michael were assisting in the tech department, by updating all of their untraceable coms and trackers. They should all be able to connect and keep an eye on one another no matter where they were. And James, Oliver, and Max were cataloging their supplies, determining what weapons and ammunition were needed.
They were working well all together like that (and with Missy available for pets). The team communicated easily, and were open for suggestions. There were disagreements and taunting here and there. But they had a solid mission to work towards. Their focus could be entirely on their goal- dismantle the Shop's funds, take out the leaders, kill Amanda, go home. All of that appeared plausible, and within reach. If only the money statements weren't impossible to read. Even to Ryan, "I can't make sense of half this stuff."
"Triad can. But we'll probably have to give them something in return," Without looking up from her diagram, Pj shared. The Triad she and her parents had interacted with wasn't a fan of the Shop's criminal elements stealing their business and encroaching on their turf. The organization learned to intercept and read the group's reports so they could best them in business. Although they hadn't been able to take them out, they helped those who were attempting to. Everything came with a price, however. It wasn't going to be too high. But it was a payment nonetheless.
"You sure that's wise?" Michael expressed most of the team's anxiety. The Triad had been fed bad intel about Sam's meet to sell information; they could've been given more. Pj made an argument that Ben could be trusted. He cared for her, and he had a personal reason for wanting the Shop to burn. James supported her, as did Alex and Nikita. Ben and his boss wouldn't screw them over a second time- they'd make sure of it. And if they did, they'd be sorry.
"It's our best bet," Nikita appeased the rest of the anxiousness. The team swore to do anything; they couldn't afford to be picky. Besides, with all of them working together they should've been unstoppable. They had enough drive and passion, no one could stop them (they also finally had enough resources to continue that damned crusade). Agreeing that Nikita, Alex, and Pj had the most contact with the Triad, the team decided those three would be the ones to get the information. Michael and Sean, on their own, resolved to tag along and provide support from the van. Although eyes rolled, no one argued.
"We'll start on the first strike while you're gone," Oliver stated. The first phase of their plan wasn't difficult; it could be accomplished with some of their team off on another assignment. They still made certain it was airtight, though. There could be no room for error. Everyone was going to make it home alive. Sam was going to be the only one lost to the Shop.
When it was all schemed out, the team split. Birkhoff, of course, had to part with a taunt directed towards Nikita about screwing over the Triad in the far distant past. She flashed a rude gesture in response. The experienced agents were so used to it, they ignored it. But their children burst into laughter. It was nice to know that despite everything, their war couldn't weigh them down too much. They could keep fighting and chasing after what they wanted without giving up everything that they were. When the laughter died down, James found himself chasing after Pj. He caught up to her before she left the safehouse, and gently pulled her back, "Hey Pipes, wait. Who were you talking to at the ring? The one who gave you intel?"
"Why? You jealous?" The sarcastic tease slipped off of Pj's tongue effortlessly. Although her tone was flippant, she wanted that to be true. She couldn't quite understand why; she also couldn't understand why James became flustered. The two awkwardly regarded one another for a second, trying to see how they were going to move forward. Pj settled for a cocky grin, proving she wasn't affected by anything. James averted his hazel eyes.
"Maybe she can get you more," Eventually, he suggested. She agreed to the idea, instantly. Pj had to return to the underground fighting ring anyway so her disappearance didn't seem suspicious. She had hung around previous places she had raided for a few days afterwards so no one would catch onto her. Although the ring mission went differently, she couldn't afford to have her cover blown. They were so close to the end; there could be no mistakes.
James and Pj shared the idea with their parents. They agreed that it was a good follow up, but Pj wasn't going to go alone. Nikita and Michael would provide backup, while James, Alex, and Sean talked to the Triad. They informed the rest of the team of the change up (though Max, Cassandra, Ryan, and Kara were too busy with organizing their intel, and Birkhoff, Sonya, Felicity, and Oliver were too engrossed in the tech and computers to really add their opinions), then set out on their assignments. The Mears-Bishops quickly arrived at the fighting ring, and with coms in place they separated. Michael covered the exit, Nikita the entrance, and Pj waltzed up to the bartender at the bar, "We never got to finish our conversation."
"You're back!" The bartender was surprised to see the fighter. After the manager was killed, she had disappeared. She hadn't expected to see her again. Yet there she was, green eyes as sparkly as ever. Although she wanted to be, the bartender wasn't excited to see the fighter return. The ring had become dangerous in the past couple of days. She had to stay away; she didn't want to see her get hurt.
"Yeah. My ribs kept me out. But I guess that makes me lucky," Flashing a disarming grin, Pj leaned across the bar. She was aware that the bartender was nervous. She didn't blame her. The raid in the backroom had been terrible. The fighting ring might've continued, but the change in leadership and blow to their resources was detrimental. There were a lot of changes affecting a lot of people. Hopefully, the bartender would tell Pj all about it, "Has anything changed too much?"
"Well those men don't hang around anymore. And there's this lady that keeps going into the backroom," The bartender whispered. She and the fighter were the only ones by the bar. The underground ring hadn't opened yet to the patrons. Only the workers and fighters were around. The bartender still wouldn't take the risk that they were overheard. It wasn't like how it was before. The woman hanging around wasn't one to cross.
"Manager's partner probably. Wants her cut of the missing money," Pj had a strong suspicion of who the woman might've been. How could Amanda not investigate the fighting ring. After the raid and the unsuccessful trap that used Sam as bait, of course she'd look into where it all went wrong. But Pj wasn't going to tip her hand to the bartender just yet. She'd fish for more intel, while keeping a wary eye out. Fortunately, she had her parents to support her if things went south.
"I think she's more like his boss. She's trying to figure out what happened," The bartender didn't want the fighter to be asking those questions. She should've run. Shifting her eyes across the ring, she attempted to express that to her. She caught on, yet she didn't leave. She studied the people around them carefully. The number of workers and fighters in the room had thinned. It was odd, yet it wasn't conclusive.
"She talked to you? Did you tell her what you told me?" Pj was becoming increasingly concerned. The bartender was terrified, and people kept leaving the room. Something was wrong. She told her parents as much over the coms, and turned her attention back to her source of intel. She didn't want her there. But it was out of safety, not contempt. Pj should've listened to the bartender's silent warning. She should've run. Stubbornness to see an end to that war kept her rooted, however. She had to know what Amanda knew.
"She's just so scary," Barely a breath, the bartender admitted. The gunshot that immediately rang out startled Pj. She jumped away from the bar, watching her source of intel fall dead in front of her. She didn't allow herself to scream or even process the sudden death. She pulled out her own pistol and spun towards the origin of the shot. She wasn't quite certain what she had expected, but it sure wasn't the person emerging from the backroom.
The woman had styled red hair, a well tailored dress, flawless skin, and sparking accessories. She had to have been Amanda. Except, Pj never imagined her to look so elegant. For someone so evil and vile, she looked radiant. The juxtaposition was probably what disarmed so many people. Pj kept her gun trained on her, though. Amanda only smiled. Her cold blue eyes gleamed in recognition and delight. There was no doubt she knew who the young agent was, as she cocked her own weapon, "I thought it was Nikita destroying my shell companies at first. But after the junkyard, I knew she had an unsuspecting partner. She and Michael hid you well. I didn't think you'd actually exist."
"Some say my skills are supernatural," Pj snarked. She wasn't going to try to deny it. That would play into her game. She was going to remain unflappable until her parents came to help her. They had gone to check the perimeter when she said something was up. For the moment, it was just her and Amanda with their pistols aimed on the other. It wasn't going to be like that for long, however. Nikita and Michael were going to return soon and end the bitch.
"Cute. You look just like your mother, but I see a little bit of your father in you. It's hidden under Nikita's snark. But Michael's stubborn seriousness is still there. Bet you were hell to raise," While the vile woman approached the young agent, her smile turned cruel. Pj had to fight the chill that ran along her bronze skin. Her parents must've been hearing that conversation over the coms; they must've been on their way. She needed to stall. So she let Amanda get near her, close enough that they could touch.
"Oh. I'm not like anyone," Pj possibly did the stupidest thing she had ever done- and that included going rogue from her team. But she wasn't going to let Amanda out of there alive. She couldn't kill her with a loaded gun aimed at her. Her only solution was to do something rash and insane until backup arrived. Fast as lightning, Pj shot at Amanda's hand which held the weapon. The ricochet and debris affected the both of them; they were too close. But the vile woman was the one left with a useless hand. She clutched the bloody thing, screaming.
Unfortunately, her shout drew the fighters and workers who had left. They swarmed Pj in an instant. The young agent managed to take out several with her gun. And when that ran out of bullets, she used her fists. It was all too much for her, however. They eventually had her in their grasps, her fighting only getting her so far. Amanda's goons held her tightly without a chance of escape. All was looking hopeless, "Nikita! Michael!"
"They can't hear you," Amanda screeched, ending Pj's call for help. She showed her a communication jammer she had in her pocket. A smug grin would've been etched across her features had she not been grimacing in pain. She managed to rip fabric from a dead goon's shirt and wrap her wound, all while glaring and ordering that the young agent be taken away. Pj chuckled at her in response, mostly to cover her absolute terror. Yet, it was possible a part of her had gone insane from adrenaline. Or she was simply riding that same stupidity from earlier. She kind of wanted to piss Amanda off. She deserved it after everything she had done to her family.
Shoving workers and fighters away, Amanda gripped Pj by the throat. She wanted the little girl to pay for all of it. Of course the daughter of Michael and Nikita would get under her skin so much; they were too alike. Pj only smiled more. She had one insane idea left. There was no chance of escaping. Her parents were probably fighting goons along the perimeter. And if they couldn't hear her, they weren't going to rush back. However, her knife was still on her. Without the goons holding her, she could grab it.
She didn't make an attempt to kill Amanda, though. With her workers around, it would've been in vain. But Pj could cut that striking red hair and drop the weapon. She knew her parents would recognize her knife. They'd see it on the ground and they'd know she'd been there. As for Amanda's hair- considering the color and her piercing eyes were the only features used to describe her- Michael and Nikita would know who took their daughter, once they saw the strands on the knife. The action also shocked Amanda enough for her to let her go, allowing Pj to scream one last desperate time, "Mom! Dad!"
"Give up! It's over," With that, Amanda ordered the goons to take hold of Pj and knock her unconscious. The world turned dark.