"Wait. What do they want?" Vasquez couldn't make sense of the request she and Sam just received from the team. The last they had heard from them was an update about some sort of rescue mission. They needed intel on a warehouse, and their moles had delivered. However, it had been radio silent since then. By the time the moles were brought into the loop, so much had happened. Vasquez couldn't wrap her head around it. She understood that their sharing of information would be slow. But what exactly was the team up to to have known and then demand a whole bunch of information.
"They want enough intel to plan a raid on this place," Fortunately, Sam knew enough of the team's run and gun attitude to adjust to their quick pace. Although confused, he wasn't going to question their methods. They'd handle whatever they had to do out in the field, while he and Vasquez did the whole double agent thing. If he was being honest with himself, he preferred to be poking around for information than working so closely with the team. Not that he didn't enjoy kicking ass, or even hanging out with them (in short time periods). He was simply glad to be away from the drama that was no doubt unfolding. He'd help take down the bad guys, as long as he got to mind his own business.
"We can't make a run yet. We don't know who's pulling the strings. Even if we take out major players here, the leaders can still regroup," On the other hand, Vasquez wasn't content to just run along the sidelines. She wanted to have a more active role in burning the bastards. They had screwed her over too, after all. She couldn't be passive again, while others were fighting so hard. That decision had already been made up in her mind, yet what was she doing about it. Being a mole and providing information was one thing. But she felt as though she should be doing more. There had to be some way she could do more.
"Which is why they're so desperate for intel. But they might have another line on it?" That part of the correspondence confused Sam. Apparently, the team had another source of intel about the bastards. Or, they received new information about an important aspect of their operations. It was a lot to take in from just one dead drop. Judging by how rapidly it appeared to be written, it was a lot for the team too; even they haven't quite processed what was going on. All that nothing in terms of movement they had was bound to explode into something, though.
Ripping the report away from Sam, Vasquez poured over it again. The more she read over the information and the request, the more she was able to piece together what was happening outside First Choice Headquarters. It shouldn't have been such a shock to her. But the bastards were tight lipped about most of their operations. In fact, if an agent wasn't involved in a specific mission, then they knew nothing about it. They were lucky that Sam was trusted to be in charge of so much, and that Vasquez was great at ferreting out rumors and whispers from fellow agents; it allowed them to share with the team. Guess it wasn't as reciprocated as they thought, however, "What is going on out there?"
"Smuggling and an Interpol investigation apparently," Whether Sam was being sincere or an ass didn't matter to Vasquez. She shot him a glare that made him back away with placating palms. She had figured out that much. Weaseling their way into an Interpol investigation could explain that new line of information they mentioned. And the smuggling explained how the bastards stayed operational. The mercenary jobs they took paid a hefty bill, but it wasn't enough to support an organization like that one. First Choice didn't have the government backing like Division or the corporate backing like Gogol. They had to supplement their income somehow.
"How are they getting more action than us?" Eventually, Vasquez could only chuckle and shake her head. Sure there were plenty of bastards to send out on missions, while there were only five of them. But valuable agents like her and Sam should've been utilized more. Especially with their ties to their enemies. As far as the bastards knew, he used to be a part of their crew and she had been a fellow recruit of Nikita's. Maybe they still suspected them of being moles of some sort. Although that was true, they hadn't shown any evidence to support it. There were other agents that weren't that loyal to the organization.
"Nikita's insane," Sam had another idea for the team's shenanigans, however. Vazquez burst out in laughter. That certainly was an understatement. He might've met her in her early rogue days, but she knew her as a recruit. Granted, Division was a hell place that brought the worst out of everybody. Yet Nikita was something else. She could never really pinpoint what it was about her that was so different, not until she went rogue. Her courage and defiance was encouraging. As was the heart she showed for not just her team, but for so many others.
"Got us to work for her," Despite the annoyed tone, Vasquez smiled. Sam had the same mix of emotions on his face, though, he tried not to show it. She was still a bit confused about what happened between Sam and the team all those years ago. He had stabbed them in the back when Amanda unconditioned him- turning him from Owen back to Sam. But somehow he was back in their tight knit friend group. She knew it had something to do with the Shop, and helping with the doubles. However, she wished she could know more about what exactly happened there. It all seemed so unbelievable.
"Alright. So scrap mission stuff for the moment. Focus just on how they can raid the place," Sam recaptured Vasquez's attention. He took back the file and moved to get rid of it. They had gotten into the habit of hiding in an empty room together to go over whatever dead drop intel the team had for them. Rumors flew that they were hooking up. But as long as it covered what they were actually doing, she didn't care. He was a bit pressed about it, yet he didn't want her to know- for some reason. Regardless, it was better to just ignore it and focus on their jobs.
They had gotten great at hiding their tracks. Information from the team was destroyed, and they didn't keep any copies of their own intel. Sam and Vasquez had to commit a lot to memory, but it wasn't anything they couldn't manage. The two had been able to do anything they were asked, capable of pulling it all off. Except, that time, she was having other ideas. She'd help, of course. She was just determined to do more. What exactly that could've been, however, she was still working out, "Yeah… no. We should split it up and focus on both."
"Do I really want to know what you're thinking?" Smirking, Sam scoffed. Vasquez had another grand scheme before about compiling information on known First Choice locations. It at least got the team to narrow down which warehouse held a captive they had to rescue. Yet it continued to get them nowhere with the actual headquarters. The precautions the bastards went through to ensure no one knew where it was at besides certain people was ridiculous. Though, it did make sense with the downfall of their predecessors. It could only be a temporary solution, however. There had to be some way around it.
"What if we bait the leader out of the shadows? You have pull with the higher ups," Vasquez thought she found that way. Sam was connected to the leader through the other agents in charge. They had names and descriptions on them, but it wasn't anything shocking; they were all former Gogol higher ups, people the team knew that fell easily into a criminal organization. It was the person who was pulling the strings of the whole thing that was concerning. Anxiety led them all to believe it was an Oversight situation. But that couldn't have been possible- not again.
It had to be someone else. Knowing how previous black ops groups were run, only one person could've been in charge. No bad guy ever liked to share the power or spotlight, after all. Having the leader step into the forefront on their own was a fairly plausible plan, if not a huge risk. It seemed like something Nikita would think up. Sam's head shook involuntarily at that. He couldn't believe Vasquez had been roped into the crazy antics, "Oh no. You're turning into one of them."
"Good. Gonna need that craziness to pull this off," Whereas he could just stare at her in mild shock, she grinned proudly. Vasquez left Sam alone in the room to think her plan over. She was going to follow through with it whether he agreed or not, but it'd be nice to have a partner at her back. The team would no doubt find a way to support her; she knew it. The initiative from their end was probably something they needed- anything to end the war quickly, right. Besides, the others could've been planning something huge at the moment as well.
"Whatever bathroom you throw up in is yours," Birkhoff shouted at Nikita as she made a break for it. She stopped before entering the nearest bathroom, and double backed to sprint towards where she thought the master bedroom with the ensuite bathroom was. From the second the jet landed, to the instant they arrived at the safehouse, she had been nauseous. She had assumed she could force it all down like she could sometimes. But when they walked through the door and the stale air hit her nostrils, it was all over. She ran as fast as possible before it could all come violently tumbling out of her.
"If she doesn't make it, you're cleaning it up," Shoving a bag at Birkhoff, Michael huffed. He began to throw open the windows to let cleaner air into the house. Barkhoff followed him, unsure of the new space. They had picked the location because of its remoteness, and because it had been abandoned. Although that meant the team had to clean the place and fix up a few things, it was perfect for all of them to hide out safely. Hopefully, it wouldn't have been for long. They'd be back in their own (or new, depending on what was decided) homes in no time.
"She's the one determined to steal the master bedroom," It was almost a whine, but Birkhoff hid it in a snide comment. He hadn't meant for Nikita to take him seriously. However, he probably shouldn't have messed with her when there was only one thing on her mind. If she didn't make it to the bathroom as a result, he was the one to pay the price. He shook that terrible thought away. Vomit always made him feel sick. Her morning sickness wasn't just hell on her. Though he wouldn't say that outloud. Alex and Nikita would surely taunt him, and Michael might beat him up.
"Well, yeah. We're actually married. And she's pregnant. We deserve the biggest room and bath," Michael easily defended Nikita's actions. He didn't like that she rushed off to follow through with Birkhoff's taunt, but at least she was securing them the best room. When he went to check on her, he'd bring their bags in. For the time being, he'd unload everything else and get the others to start unpacking. Although resting sounded great at the moment, they had to set up their gear. They wouldn't be able to do anything if that priority wasn't met.
"Whoa. Okay. If you wanna play the 'my wife is pregnant card' then I can play the 'my mom thinks I'm dead again' card," Alex was fine with unpacking the majority of their things until they could settle down. However, she would not stand by while Michael and Nikita got the master bedroom. Out of all the safehouses they had had, she was the only one not to have the biggest room (other than Sonya); it was her turn. After all, she had some sympathy points to back her up too. It wasn't exactly the same, but it could hold some sway.
"That's your fault. You brought the bastards to us. You should get the smallest room for that," According to Birkhoff, not so much. Michael chuckled as well, ending the conversation completely. Alex glared at the nerd, and threw the first thing she could at him. He managed to dodge it, but not the dog jumping up behind him. She didn't notice she had thrown one of Barkhoff's toys at first. Yet chucking it turned out to be a happy accident. The dog nudged at the nerd in his attempt to get his toy, causing him to stumble and fall. Laughter instantly erupted.
Birkhoff's attempts to strike back were in vain. Alex hid behind boxes with their more valuable equipment inside them, pretending as though that was what she was going to unpack. She was mostly saved by Barkhoff, though. He wanted to continue playing with his toys and explore the new house. They were sucked in by his adorableness. The rest of his belongings were unpacked. And as they placed them where they could possibly stay for a moment, they moved on to other boxes and bags. Eventually, Nikita shouted all smug and proud from the master bedroom- despite the trace of sickness in her voice, "Suck it, Nerd! You gave up the best room."
"Why don't you come out here and say it to my face," He shot back automatically. The last time Birkhoff had dared Nikita like that, they ended up in a sparring match- that he tragically lost. He doubted she'd be up for it that time, anyway. But she still had to help them unpack and settle in; she didn't get to escape the task. No excuse or taunt flew back from her, though. She remained silent and still in the room she was in. If they hadn't known how sick and uncomfortable she had been on the flight, they would've demanded to know what was wrong. Yet her terrible symptoms were hard to ignore.
"That's my cue," Michael sighed, grabbed their bags, and went to join her. Nikita would be fine in a moment; he was sure of it. She just had to rest. He'd make certain she actually did, and help her get comfortable. He, Birkhoff, and Alex could handle things for the time being. She didn't need to stretch herself too thin or push herself, even if she felt like she needed to for the team. No one was going to demand that of her. They might tease her when she was feeling better, but they could get things started without her.
"Whipped," Birkhoff teased Michael, however. The agent ignored the nerd, yet Alex threw the taunt back at him. She had seen the way he followed Sonya; he wasn't any better. Especially when his defenses fell the second he dropped everything to answer her call. More laughter echoed throughout the safehouse. They really were insane.