"Bye, beach house," Zipping closed a suitcase, Nikita took a long look at her bedroom. Michael rolled his eyes. It wasn't as though they were going to have to blow the place like they had the other safehouses they had to abandon- the beach house wasn't even a safehouse. Just with the bastards knowing their location, they had to relocate. Once everything was settled, they could return. Leaving their home didn't have to be a big deal, simply a precaution. Of course she'd make it dramatic, though. The couple had worked hard to have their beach house. After so much running and gunning, they finally had a home to call their own. Although they weren't leaving forever, it was still a disheartening moment.
"We'll be back," Michael promised, abandoning the bag he was packing. Birkhoff and Sonya secured the team a place in the woods somewhere. It was secluded, remote, and- most importantly- large enough for all of them plus guests (because there were always more and more people getting involved in their wars). They were able to bring along the majority of their things; they didn't have to lose it to the move. And, Nikita would be traveling back for doctor's visits. That kind of helped with not feeling like leaving the beach house was permanent. They'd return, and continue living their best lives against the backdrop of the sparkling ocean. The bastards weren't going to take anything from them.
"I don't know. It was a great starter home. But, don't you want something bigger? You know, with an actual yard or something," Nikita fidgeted awkwardly. Michael wrapped his arms around her, casting her a confused glance. When she shrugged as if her comment was nothing, he caught onto her meaning. It wasn't just the two of them anymore. If they were being honest, though, it was never just the two of them. Their friends and family were almost always around. The couple really needed a place that reflected that. They also needed a place they could safely and securely raise their baby. A spy's hideaway between missions might've been great for the two, but it wasn't the best for a child. They had to think of their future and all the possibilities that entailed.
"And if we're going to do that security firm thing, we'll need a place that won't make commuting awful," Not letting his wife back out of her statement, Michael added. He could understand why she might have been embarrassed to suggest they get a new home. Out of the two of them, Nikita hadn't been the one to think about kids. It was yet another change for her to wrap her head around. She wasn't entirely sure what was needed; she was assuming things based on what she had learned from the media she had consumed. Her husband would obviously help her get used to everything. But sometimes, she felt as though she was drowning.
Flashing a crooked grin, Michael wrapped his arms tighter around Nikita. She shook her head, but smiled despite herself. A new home would fit in perfectly with all the other things on their to-do list. They had to move anyway if they were serious about starting up a business. As much as she loved living on a beach, it wasn't an ideal location for their security firm idea. And if they were going to continue constantly working with their team, it would be nice to live close to them once more (not together, though, they were all tired of that). Having their family around would also be great for when the baby arrived. God knew the married couple needed as much help as they could get, "I'm kinda sick of all the sand that gets in anyway."
Michael couldn't argue with that. He and Nikita were often sweeping the sand and grit that always followed them through the door. Although the isolation and peacefulness of a beach house was beloved by the couple, they could do without the annoying sand. Especially since they got a dog. Barkhoff sure loved to create a mess, either all over himself or the entryway. The two didn't want to imagine what kind of mess their child could cause. Considering who they were, well, it was better to just nip it in the bud. Good bye, safehouse. Hello, their bright future, "Barkhoff running around in grass instead of the ocean would be so much better too."
"Oh God. We're gonna have to travel to a safehouse with a dog," Nikita sharply pulled back from Michael's arms. She hadn't really thought of that until his comment. Sure they had been packing the dog's things so he could come along with them. But she had no clue how they were going to get him onto an airplane. They might have had their own private jet, yet there was no way Barkhoff would handle the travel well. He could hardly handle a car ride to the vet. Maybe they could get him in a crate. Except, there was no way to contain that dog's energy.
"Who said our lives aren't an adventure?" Michael could really only chuckle. They'd figure something out; it was just going to be a bumpy ride. Nikita nudged him, removing herself completely from his arms. But of all the problems presented in the moment, none seemed like it was anything to truly worry about. The two kept joking about when they were finally going to have 'normal people' problems. Apparently, it had snuck up on them without notice. They didn't have to worry about crusades, or black ops groups, or vile people for a moment. Expanding their family and controlling a crazy dog got to take precedence.
Eventually, the team packed all of their belongings and were ready to relocate. Sonya switched places with Alex, watching over Kyle while the rest traveled. She'd be with them soon; she simply had to help get the man cleared from the hospital so he could join them in hiding. A hacker's fine touch was needed to pull that off. And as Birkhoff was busy with the plane, she agreed to do it. Besides, Alex had to share the information she had gathered with the others. That was better as a direct conversation than over the phone. They needed to plan their next steps. They also had to put all of the puzzle pieces together. With their combined minds, that should've been easy. Michael was already prepared with helpful questions as they jetted towards their new location, "So interdepartmental cooperation? Who's running this case?"
"Interpol. They took over from the FBI. But who do we know in Interpol that we can trust?" Reading from his laptop, Birkhoff wondered. He had the plane in autopilot, the bugs and turbulence from last time more or less fixed. However, he was able to use some of his rig to pull up the investigation Kyle Connelly was assisting on. It had started as an FBI case, yet as the smuggling became more complex Interpol became involved. Although the international agency was competent enough to deal with smugglers, they had no idea what they were truly up against. The team should probably lend their expertise.
Were they mostly doing that so they could have help dealing with the bastards as well, absolutely. Though, they didn't feel ashamed of it. The team had used agencies in their previous war- how else had Ryan gotten involved all those years ago. Combining efforts was their best bet in eliminating the threat. They just had to make certain they found trustworthy people to rely on. Betrayal and backstabbing couldn't be afforded. Fortunately, Alex had worked with Interpol enough as part of the UN. She knew the perfect agents to get the job done, "I've worked with Skarsgard and Johnson. They're good people."
"Those are your contacts. And your dead," Birkhoff hadn't meant to rain on the parade, but it was true. No one besides her knew Skarsgard and Johnson. The team couldn't bring the agents into the fold if they had no idea who they were talking to. Chances were, they were going to believe the team belonged to the bastards. Alex had to be the one to get them involved. However, she was still dead. Bringing her back just to make contact would only raise questions they couldn't answer. Or, they didn't have the time to answer. It was a promising lead; they were just approaching a deadend.
"Okay. But. What if Ms. Udinov compiled evidence against this smuggling group before her untimely death? We were never explicit with who exactly killed you. We can finally put the blame on the bastards," Finally speaking up, Nikita shared some of her thoughts. She had sat on the floor of the plane with Barkhoff. As long as someone was holding him, he was okay. Her rocky stomach and pounding head made her volunteer for that job. Sitting on the sturdy floor helped settle her nausea and headache as the jet rocked in the wind. She had always hated turbulence. Morning sickness just made it so much worse.
"So you wanna bring Interpol a file of information from a ghost?" Michael caught on easily to her idea. The intel they had on the bastards through their own research and moles could be compiled and handed off. If they disguise it as something Alex was working on before her untimely 'death', it'd be taken seriously. After all, she was known for running her own private investigations (well, not so much private as working secretly with her team) into groups like the bastards. The file would surely launch Interpol's case into the right direction. All the intel to take down the group would be in very capable hands, as long as the team remained involved.
"Yeah. We can also lay a bug or whatever to track their investigation and butt in on key moments," Nikita didn't think they should completely hand over everything. To truly end the bastards and that war, the experts in dismantling black ops were needed. Michael, Alex, and Birkhoff agreed. The nerd began creating an electric file he could hide in a delayed email from Ms. Udinov. Along with information on the bastards' organization the smuggling funded, he embedded a virus. The second Skarsgard and Johnson opened the email, he'd be tapped into their servers and be looped into their investigation.
"If they work with SWAT, Alex and I can wear the gear and hide out in their ranks. No need to black badge it," After a moment of thought, Michael mentioned another positive of involving Interpol. The agency would need help in stopping shipments and making attacks on the bastards. Instead of black badging their way in, he and Alex could hide among the agents in heavy tactical gear. That just seemed easier and less complicated. Black badging had landed them into hot water in the past. But a disguise almost always worked.
Nikita was fond of that idea as well. It met Michael's criteria that she had to be in full protective gear if she wanted to join him out in the field. What better protection than a SWAT uniform. Besides, the more people out there who were actually able to stop the bastards the better. The black ops group had gotten away too many times. Yet that was going to end with all those involved from then on. There weren't any secrets or blackmail to hide behind. An army was forming, "If there's that much gear, I can go too."
"Yeah. As a sniper," Immediately, Michael stated. There was no room for Nikita to argue. She could be out in the field, but only at a safe enough distance away. She attempted to glare her husband into submission. But he was as stubborn as ever. He wasn't going to budge from that decision, not when his pregnant wife's life was at risk. At least he had Alex supporting him (Birkhoff was going to stay out of it); it was two against one. She had to accept her new role, no matter if he teased her for it or not, "I thought you set the distant shot record in your first year of eligibility. You're perfect for the job."
Flipping him off, Nikita leveled a harsh glare. But that was all the fight she gave; she knew she was beat. She even managed to chuckle softly as Michael, Alex, and Birkhoff laughed. Despite being far from the action, she'd still be able to watch her team's back in the field. She could make that sacrifice if that was the case. They simply had to make certain that was how things played out. Knowing what Interpol's actions plans were was one thing. Making sure they got to be a part of that was another. Once the laughter settled down, Alex expressed her concerns over the matter, "We'll have to manipulate the board enough to make sure that all happens."
"Doesn't seem too hard. We've played agencies before," Nikita shrugged, grabbing tightly to Barkhoff's fur as the jet hit another bit of turbulence. It wasn't as though they were going to use Interpol for long. It would just be enough to ruin the bastards' smuggling and cash flow. After that, they could make a run at the organization and bring them to their knees. That was going to be the tricky part, though. They still didn't have that much information regarding the organization's inner workings. But what were moles for, if not to gather all of that for them.