Out the Mirror and through a Door
Nikita stepped off the transport elevator and walked into the corridor leading to the main floor. Just ahead, she saw Michael standing in wait for her. He was still in his long overcoat as if he arrived moments before she did. When she got to him, she did not slow her walk. Instead, he fell in step with her and matched her cadence as they continued down the hall.
"You're here a bit late," Nikita observed. The time on her watch indicated that it was fifteen after six in the morning. Usually, Michael was there long before then.
"I wanted to catch you before you got to your office."
"Something going on?"
"I got you an appointment to see someone," said Michael.
Nikita stopped. "An appointment?"
Michael slid his hands into his pockets. "Yes. You need to see someone. I was able to get in touch with an old friend that might be able to help."
Nikita drew in a breath. "Is it with Section?"
"No. It's someone else."
"How are they going to help, Michael? The only people that know about this are the doctors that are with Section."
Michael kept his eyes keen towards scanning the hall for anyone approaching them. Once he was sure that they were alone, he returned his attention to Nikita.
"There is one other person, a doctor, that knows about it and has done the research. It's a long shot, but…I think it's worth the risk."
Nikita looked unsure as she turned and began down the hall once more, this time, her pace slower. Michael walked alongside her, keeping a little closer to her side. His nearness offered some support without actually touching. Nikita was grateful for his presence even though her mind did not want to let go of the worries that flooded her concerning the doctor. They walked a little more down the corridor, then stopped just before the hall opened to the atrium.
"When is the appointment?"
"This afternoon," said Michael. "It was the only time that I could get to see her."
"Her?" Nikita lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "It's a woman?"
"She's a scientist. She has worked with this disease before and has knowledge of how it develops. Her research is rudimentary at best, but…She has come further than most would with limited resources and a case-study to follow."
Nikita's shoulders slumped slightly as she considered Michael's proposal. She rubbed the back of her head, already feeling a slight headache beginning at her shoulders.
"Maybe I should just go see the doctors here. They are going to find out about me anyway, no matter what I do."
"They may find out," said Michael. "If they do, we will handle it."
Nikita gave a small smile in response. She reached for Michael's arm and squeezed it gently. He looked down at her hand and moved to take her hand into his. Nikita lowered her gaze, feeling the familiar hum along with the electric energy that always transferred between them with the touch of his fingertips.
"I'll take you there after the afternoon briefing with the Council. Maybe after, we can stop and get something to eat."
Nikita nodded.
Michael let go of her hand and took a step back, breaking the vibrating connection and leaving Nikita feeling cold and silent within her own thoughts. She watched him take another step away before turning and walking towards his office.
She sighed.
Her eyes went up towards the Perch. For a split second, she thought she saw the lean silhouette of Operations standing at the window peering down at her. She blinked, and the image of the old commander vanished, leaving the dark glass empty. Nikita made her way across the main floor and down the hall towards her office.
Michael stepped into Nikita's office, followed by a tall blonde dressed in gray sweats and sneakers. The young woman looked about the office, taking in the warm tones and green plants that decorated the interior. It was a departure from the harsh alien green and cool blue steel of the rest of Section. The comfortable furniture paired with the delicate scent of lavender worked its magic to ease the recruit into a more relaxed state.
"Take a seat," said Michael as he guided her further into the office.
The girl considered Michael a moment before easing into a brown leather chair in front of Nikita's desk. Michael accessed his panel and made a note on the profile. Nikita moved from behind a wall of exotic plants. She gave Michael a stern look and pressed her lips down into a thin line across her face. The girl continued to look all about her, not noticing Nikita until she was upon her, toying with her hair. The girl quickly whipped her head about and pulled away. Her look of disgust and agitation quickly fell into wide-eyed surprise, realizing who it was that was touching her hair. Nikita returned her hands to her pockets as she rounded to the other side of her desk and sat down. Michael took a position just behind the recruit, resting his panel against himself as he stood with his legs slightly parted.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Russo. I've been reviewing your work. I have to say I am quite impressed," said Nikita.
"Really?" said the recruit, her expression lifting into hopefulness.
"To be a less than one year cadet, you have shown yourself more than qualified to be promoted."
Nikita leaned forward, folding her hands on the desk. The cadet blushed, moving her eyes swiftly about the room searching for the man she had come in with. She returned her attention to Nikita, giving up her quest, and resolved to interact with the serene-looking director.
"I only have a few questions before we fast-track you to operative status. As I'm sure you are aware by now, we are looking for someone of your caliber to use for a highly specialized assignment," said Nikita.
"I wasn't told a lot of what I would be doing," the cadet admitted. "But I'm sure I can do the job."
Nikita gave a tight smile in return. "I am, too…Your scores in your last assessment are very high in strategy, planning, and improvisation. That tells me you are quick to adjust."
Nikita typed on her computer and accessed Katya's profile and performance record.
"I'm one of three of the top students in my class," Katya added.
"I see that," said Nikita. "It also says that you can sometimes be a discipline problem whenever you come in contact with other hostile recruits. You tend to fight."
Nikita turned a glacial gaze at Katya.
"I don't let nobody run me over," said Katya, stiffening her upper lip. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean you can do or say whatever you want. If you hit me, I'm gonna hit back."
"Really…"
"Dead ass."
Nikita sat back in her seat and folded her hands over her stomach. She gave a quick look at Michael, who continued to stand as if frozen behind the cadet. Nikita hid her smirk behind a softened but pressed-down smile. Katya maintained her serious expression, attempting to appear just as solid and controlled as Nikita. However, her constant shaking sneaker and tapping pinkie finger exposed her ramping anxiousness.
"The world you will be entering is not going to be what you are used to," Nikita said, standing to her feet. She began to slowly move towards Katya, allowing her words to distract her. "This world does not see women as equals. They do not bother to pull out your seat or compliment you. They are not polite…Nor will they be gentle. So if you are slapped…."
With a swift movement, Nikita whipped the back of her hand across Katya's face, nearly knocking her out of her seat. The strike made Michael react with a slight twitch, bracing himself as if he were receiving the hit and not the cadet.
"You're just slapped," said Nikita, lowering down slowly into Katya's face. "And there's nothing you can do about it except let it happen."
Nikita straightened. Katya stared back at Nikita with fury buzzing in her wide crystal eyes. She held her jaw where Nikita struck and pulled away. Nikita crossed back over to her desk and leaned against it, crossing her arms and ankles.
"Jesus, lady! What the hell!"
"You also can't speak against it," said Nikita coolly. "You will be, in a sense, subject to whatever it is that he wants. If he wants to feed you dog food, you have to eat it. If he wants to embarrass you in front of his constituents, you have to bear it. If he wants to fuck you in front of everyone in the middle of the town square, you better pull up your skirt and smile while you're doing it. If you don't, your cover will be blown, and you will have failed the mission."
Katya swallowed hard as she absorbed Nikita's words. Michael gave Nikita a hard look before moving from behind Katya's seat and taking a position to the side of Nikita's desk.
"The man you are targeting is an Islamic clergyman…A part of a very elite group of men who control much of the country's political sphere. You will not be expected to know everything there is to know about the culture, but you will be brought to speed on what you can and can't do."
"We're not expecting you to be an expert in Muslim culture," said Nikita, following behind Michael. "But you will need to know enough to keep your head on your shoulders and not trip over a misinterpretation or misunderstanding."
"You will need to stand out among the others who will manage to eliminate themselves from his inner circle just by being unaware of their surroundings," said Michael.
Katya looked from Michael to Nikita, then back as she listened. Her eyes remained wide, and her expression lingered at anxiousness. She touched her face again, remembering Nikita's backhand, then straightened in her seat. She swallowed again, collecting herself, and clasped her hands in her lap. Michael looked at Nikita, signaling that he was ready for the next step.
"Your training will begin this evening," Nikita started, but her eyes remained with Michael, watching him as he studied Katya. "You will continue with hand to hand with Master Barnes, weapons training with Whistler, and Trent will go over mechanics with you in Systems."
"Does this mean I'm being fast-tracked?" Katya looked directly at Nikita.
"It means we are testing you out to see if you truly are the best choice for this operation."
"Are you considering anyone else?"
"Not at the moment."
"What happens if I don't pass?"
Nikita thought a moment, considering her answer and what she would need to do should Katya not work out as expected. She looked to Michael for help but only got his vacant speechless gaze back. Nikita drew in a breath.
"By protocol, you would return to the academy, but you will have a demerit on your record—"
"That's not fair! I didn't ask for this assignment!" Katya was nearly out of her seat.
"I know. We chose you," said Nikita, maintaining an even voice. "But there was a reason why we chose you. That is why I would not be very concerned about failing. I'm more than confident that you won't."
"But what if I do?" Katya looked from Nikita to Michael, her eyes wide again. "I work all year and bust my ass for a chance to become a Section One Operative only to get kicked out of the program because I didn't measure up to your standards for a mission I didn't even volunteer to do? That's bullshit!"
Michael started to speak in objection, but Nikita waved him down and sat forward in her seat. She leveled her eyes with Katya, capturing her attention once more fully.
"You're right. It is bullshit," said Nikita, ignoring Michael's quick reaction. "It's unfair, and it's completely demoralizing to know that failure is not only an option, but it is also just as much expected. The truth is, I don't think that you are equipped enough to handle this mission."
"But you just said that you thought that I would succeed," Katya pointed out.
"I do think that you will succeed…because you will have to. Your life will depend on it. I believe that you will use whatever you can get your hands on to save your own life, and that is why you will succeed. If you don't, the mission fails, you die, and we simply choose someone else."
Nikita's deadpan stare froze Katya in place. Michael did not hide his own anxiety or the fact that he was visibly shocked by Nikita's harshness. Nikita stared at the recruit a moment more before relaxing back in her seat.
"Regardless of how I feel about it, there are others who believe that you are exactly the right person for this job. Since I trust their input…" Nikita gave a quick look at Michael before returning to Katya. "I will set aside my own opinion and see what it is that they see in you. If you are truly who they think that you are, my opinion of you will change, and I will offer you my utmost support on your mission. If not…then I would much rather see you alive with a demerit than dead with Section unable to complete its commission."
Nikita typed on her computer and changed the status of the recruit labeling her as an Active Operative and ready for mission briefings. She looked to Michael once more, telling him without words that she hoped he was right about his assessment. Michael lowered his gaze, thinking, then moved to collect Katya from her chair.
"Good luck, Katya," said Nikita.
Katya gave Nikita a nervous smile and followed Michael out of her office.
Nikita let out a long sigh, calming herself. The look in Katya's eyes jarred her a little, but it was the expression on Michael's face that made her question herself.
Had she been too harsh?
Did she overstep in some way in telling Katya the hard truth about what she was called to do?
In a way, she wished that someone had the heart to tell her exactly what she would be getting into when she began with Section. She wished someone had sat her down and said to her that she would be expected to kill people, to have sex with men she didn't like, and forced into relationships with the worst kind of people on earth. She wished that she was told about Michael and what it would cost her to become attached to him. She wished that someone simply told her precisely what she told Katya.
The truth.
Nikita sniffed back a tear. The headache that started that morning worked its way up her spine and grippe the sides of her head where it throbbed. She went to her desk and pulled out the top drawer where a collection of medications were kept. She sifted through the bottles, searching for aspirin. Finding it, she quickly popped off the cap and shot out two capsules.
"Take your vitamins, Nikita," Madeline said.
Nikita dropped the aspirin in her mouth and used some of her morning tea to wash the medicine down.
"You need to make sure you take all of your medicines…."
Nikita looked down into the drawer and looked at the collection of bottles. On her monitor, Madeline's kind image peered back, watching her as she began to select the medicines she was supposed to take that morning but forgot to. She looked back at the screen seeing Madeline still watching from inside the computer.
"Why do I have to take so many medicines? What good will it do?"
"They are for your health, Nikita. You need to take them," said Madeline in a calm and even tone. "Trust me."
Nikita sneered.
She opened the bottles, selected the pills she was prescribed to take, and used her tea to finish taking the medications. She looked back at the monitor and saw Madeline's serene face pull into a stretched grin.
"Good…"
Madeline's smile continued to stretch further across her face until the ends of her smile reached the tips of her ears. The sides of her face unraveled, revealing a row of jagged teeth hidden behind the ones that she showed. The smile stretched until it resembled a Glasgow grin. The maroon from her lipstick began to bleed from her mouth and pool at the bottom of the screen. As the pool grew larger, it watered at the bottom of the screen before dripping out the sides of the monitor onto her desk. Nikita watched with alarm as Madeline maintained her grotesque grin as the pool of maroon slowly filled up the screen.
Don't forget to take your medicine, Nikita…
Nikita shut her eyes.
"Director Volker."
Nikita snapped her eyes open and looked at her monitor. Madeline's garish grin was replaced by Katya's profile and performance evaluation. Her desk was clean. The drawer with all her medications remained open.
"Director Volker."
Nikita looked at her intercom receiver and pressed a button to answer.
"Yes? What is it, Trent?"
"Center is on line two for you. He wants to talk before this afternoon's briefing."
"Patch him through."
A moment later, Nikita heard a small beep announcing the arrival of Director Karvenkovich to her line.
"Good afternoon, sir. What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Afternoon, Director Volker. I've been meaning to catch up with you concerning your progress with the Lebanon initiative. Do you have a moment to sit and discuss with me before we convene with the rest of the Council?"
"Certainly. You know I will always make time for you," said Nikita, easing herself back into her seat and leaning back.
"Sweet words are easily spoken."
"They are only to incline your ear," said Nikita. "I don't have much to report. But my team and I have made some progress towards coming up with a solution to resolve our little issue in finding and capturing the clergyman."
"Do tell," said Karvenkovich. "I'm always up for a good plot."
"Well then, hang on. This is a story that is as old as time…."
Michael stood by a black SUV waiting for Nikita to emerge from Section One's cover office park building. Nikita saw him check his watch twice and look impatiently about himself. His long black overcoat and dark shades made Nikita think of the large ravens that squawked outside her doorstep and hung about on the tree limbs reaching over towards the gutters of her house. Against the gray light of the afternoon, Michael and the SUV looked nearly indistinguishable from one another.
"Ready?"
Michael opened the passenger door and helped Nikita inside. Once she was settled in, he circled back to the driver's side and jumped in. Nikita looked over at Michael, quietly assessing him and the hurried manner in which he moved.
"Are we late?"
"Running a little behind," said Michael as he drove the SUV from the parking lot and onto the street.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to take so long with the Council. They had a lot of questions about the mission."
"I figured they would. It's not a scenario that any of them would be comfortable with. It loads a lot on the shoulders of an inexperienced recruit."
"It was a hard sell," said Nikita within a sigh. "I might not have gotten an approval had I not run it by Center first before pitching it to the rest of the group."
"What did he say?" Michael looked swiftly over to Nikita.
"I gave him the glossy version. Although he held the same reservations as I do, he saw your logic in using someone like Katya. He agreed that she would be our best shot at getting inside Al Amin's inner circle."
"We can abort this at any point, Nikita. We don't have to do this my way. I'd prefer you be involved at every point."
They moved into heavier traffic, passing shops and restaurants with people walking along the sidewalks. Nikita gazed out of the passenger window, admiring the look of daytime in the city. She had forgotten what the world looked like outside of Section and not under cover of night. She could tell that where they were going was somewhere towards the city edges, not exactly within the metropolitan proper. The roads stretched out further, widening into several lanes and moving away from the tall looming buildings.
"I don't know that I need to be," said Nikita in a hushed voice. "Kinda feels like this mission has gotten far from me. Everything that I have done so far as to put us more at a disadvantage than it has helped."
"You have a lot on your plate," said Michael. "No one is expecting you to be perfect at this. No one ever is."
"You seem to be," said Nikita, looking over at Michael.
Michael twitched the corner of his mouth in response as he made a left-hand turn.
"I've made plenty of mistakes, Nikita. I haven't always been right about things. I've made bad calls that have had terrible consequences. You have to not be afraid to take those risks and live with whatever the outcome is. That's what being a leader is."
"I feel like I'm throwing her into a meat grinder and pushing the button to churn her up. I don't know how I would take it if she winds up dead because of a decision I made to put her in that situation."
"Whether she lives or dies is her own problem. You can't be concerned about that. You're only concern is the success of the mission, so that is what you will promote. If she can't do it, then you pick someone else."
Nikita absorbed Michael's words and swallowed them. Her stomach churned sour as she attempted to digest his meaning. Despite the heater blowing warm air across her legs, she could not ignore the chill that raced up her spine.
He's scary, Lizzie had said.
Nikita could not deny the dark aura that remained over Michael. As long as he was in Section, he would always be the man she could never get close to. The frigidness of his presence far exceeded any warmness that he tried to share. It could not break the ice shield of his heart and allow the true Michael to emerge.
They drove in silence for a few more miles before coming to a facility surrounded by a park full of lush evergreens and all-season shrubbery. The lawn was meticulously manicured. The gardens tracking along the outline of the building appeared equally congruent to the style of the yard. A fountain spewed water ignoring the chill of the day. The white facade of the building reminded Nikita of a sanitarium or a convalescence home. The peaceful allure of the park drew Nikita's wary eye towards Michael as he parked the truck.
"You're taking me to a nursing home?" Nikita's tone was full of suspicion.
"It's not necessarily a nursing home," said Michael as he got out of the vehicle. He rounded to the passenger side and opened the door for Nikita to get out.
"I'm not going in there." Nikita crossed her arms.
"The doctor I have set up for you to meet is very skilled with someone with your condition."
"How? There are only two cases with my condition, and one of them is dead."
"Nikita, please. Just come and talk to her. I think she can help you get better." Michael held out a hand towards Nikita.
Nikita looked at Michael's offered hand then at him. He removed his sunglasses, allowing her to see his sincerity. Slowly, Nikita took Michael's hand and allowed him to help her out of the SUV. She looked about the area, noting the flowers that managed to stubbornly bloom in the March windchill. Michael grasped her hand and gently tug her along beside him as they made their way up the walk towards the building's entrance.
Once inside, scents of warm rolls, pot roast, and sugary apple pie met her. The pungent odors nearly turned her stomach sour before her senses dissipated them into the rest of the smells inside the building. Nikita looked at Michael again for reassurance as he signed them into the guest sheet. Nikita looked over Michael's shoulder and read the name he signed. She looked over at Michael with question.
"Bonniere…Still using that name?"
"Let's take a seat," said Michael.
Nikita followed him over to a seating area in the facility's waiting room. Michael pulled his coat around him to not have it bunch up at his back when he sat down. Nikita plopped down in the seat next to him, disregarding her own powder blue coat, and bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She wrung her hands nervously and looked about the empty waiting room. Michael pulled a magazine from the collection on the table next to him and began leafing through the pages.
"This friend of yours," Nikita began. "Is she young?"
"What does it matter?" Michael continued to leaf through the magazine.
Nikita shrugged. "Just curious. I mean, after all these years, do you think you can still consider her a friend?"
"Yes."
"How well do you know her?"
"Well enough…Why?"
Nikita rotated her neck feeling tension growing tighter at the muscles along her shoulders. She threw a look back at Michael, studying his relaxed demeanor and the quiet way in which he both answered and didn't answer her questions.
"How do you know her?"
Michael put the magazine down on his lap and looked swiftly at his watch. He looked towards the reception window then pulled out his phone to send an instant message. Once finished, he put the phone back in his breast pocket and gave his full attention to Nikita.
"Well?"
The door to the waiting room opened. A graceful-looking woman with black hair swept into a messy bun and, wearing a soft petal pink blouse over navy-colored slacks, entered the waiting room. Her sculpted eyebrows curved over opaque gray/blue almond-shaped eyes. She smiled seeing Michael and came towards him quickly, her long legs closing the distance with only a few strides. Nikita noticed she did not wear high heels but instead walked in a pair of sensible loafers almost hidden by the width of her pant legs.
"I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to make it," said the woman.
She greeted Michael with a quick and customary double cheek kiss before regarding him again. Michael's expression wavered between pleasant and anxious. He immediately shoved his hands into his coat pocket.
"Sorry. We were running a little late. Couldn't be avoided," said Michael in a tone of voice Nikita was very familiar with.
It was Michael's disguise voice that he always used when he was pretending to be someone else and not himself. It was an octave higher than his natural voice and softer, which played well with his improvised shy demeanor.
"Well, I am glad you were able to get here when you did. I was just about to leave for the day." The woman turned to Nikita, finally giving her attention. "So…This must be Nikita. I've heard so much about you. I feel like I know you already."
The woman smiled and reached in for a handshake. Nikita gave Michael a wary look as she shook the woman's hand.
"I didn't realize I was so famous," said Nikita, eying Michael.
"It's always good to meet other family members of Michael. I hate that it is under such circumstances, but…."
Nikita furrowed her brow.
"Nikita, this is the doctor I was telling you about," said Michael. "The one that I said was caring for mother…before she passed."
"Oh!" Nikita feigned partial recognition. "You're doctor…."
"Linton. I'm Dr. Valerie Linton. I worked with your brother some years ago. At the time, I studied under Dr. Moreau. I was just getting into biochemistry and the advances made in neurological sciences when Michael brought us your mother. She was possibly the most interesting case I have ever dealt with…And the most severe." Dr. Linton turned to Michael. "I am sorry that we weren't able to do more for her."
"It's okay," said Michael. "What you were able to do was enough. She was…happy…in the end."
Nikita could not help but feel a pinch of sorrow listening to Michael speak about Adrian and her final days. She knew from her own experience with the elderly Section originator how sensible and warm she could be…But also how ruthless and cunning her sharpened mind could bite. To know that she was reduced to a frail, listless woman by Madeline and Operations in an attempt to gain complete control of all of Section only made her own turn with them all the more meaningless.
"I hope that we can help your sister a bit more than we could nine years ago. We've made many strides in science and in medicine. Albeit the majority of it is experimental, but…I'm more than confident that we can come up with some sort of solution." Dr. Linton turned to Nikita and smiled. "Your sister is quite beautiful, Michael. I'm sure you've had quite the difficult time keeping all the bad boys away from her."
"It was never the bad boys he had to worry about," said Nikita, turning to Michael. "He had his hands full trying to keep me from ruining all the good guys that came my way."
Michael smirked.
"Well, I don't blame the boys for wanting to indulge," said Dr. Linton. "With a face like that, it's almost criminal not to."
Michael and Nikita exchanged a look before returning to the doctor.
"I'm on my lunch break right now, doctor," said Michael, nodding towards the door the physician emerged from.
"Of course! Pardon me. I am just so captivated by your sister." She turned to Michael. "You have a lovely family. I hope to meet more of them…Under different circumstances, of course."
"Of course," said Michael.
Dr. Linton turned and headed for the doors leading to the interior of the facility. She waved for Michael and Nikita to follow her. Michael reached and took Nikita's hand, squeezing it reassuringly before pulling her along.
Through the double doors, the smell of the afternoon's lunch grew stronger as they entered a carpeted hallway. Pictures of smiling nurses, stately-looking doctors, and happy residents peered back at Nikita. A television playing a game show quietly rang bells as a contestant guessed an answer correctly. Nikita looked into the open living room and saw several elderly patients seated on couches and armchairs. Some watched the tv show. Others stared off into nothing, with only the slight lift and fall of their shirts indicating they were breathing.
"It's been a while since you were last here," Dr. Linton was saying as they followed her through the halls. "We've made more than a few updates. The old wing has been demolished…as you can probably tell. We've upgraded the lounge and resident quarters, improved and expanded the cafeteria. We've even commissioned a gourmet chef to cook all the resident meals. It's very posh now."
They turned down another hall, leading away from the residence hall and the heady smell of lunch. The floors turned from a soft beige carpet to a sterile white tile. The pictures that lined the cream and blue-colored walls disappeared instantly. They became the flat, stark white halls of the medical side of the facility. Cozy wooden doors turned into sturdy panels that opened with a push of the hand. Soft glass windows became double-paned Plexi, shielding whatever was inside the rooms from whatever stood outside. The lights above gave a persistent hum making everything in the hall unnaturally bright.
Nikita squeezed Michael's hand tighter. An uneasy feeling began to creep inside her and scratch at her temples. The humming from the lights became a buzz, like an insect burrowing into her brain. Nikita made a soft noise, grunting slightly against the sensation of feeling uneven and disconnected from herself.
Concentrate on my voice…Remember what we talked about before you left for the mission?
Dr. Linton turned towards an office door and used a key pass to open it. She walked inside, continuing her chatter about all the upgrades and new amenities the hospital now offered. Michael started inside but was halted by Nikita, who continued to hold fast to his hand. He looked back at Nikita, noticing she was not moving.
You have to find the medical supply room. Get up and go to the door…Do you see the door?
"Nikita?" Michael tugged Nikita to follow him into the office, but she remained standing just outside the office door.
Count the doors…One…Two…Three. The fourth door…Open it…
"Is there something wrong?" Dr. Linton looked warily at Michael.
"It's fine. It's just…." Michael stepped closer to Nikita and leaned to speak into her ear. "Nikita, please. Come with me."
"I have to leave," Nikita mumbled. "I have to do what she says."
"Who?" Michael looked at Nikita, not understanding.
"Is there something I can do to help?" Dr. Linton came up quickly to Michael.
Michael glanced at Dr. Linton, his expression reading more than worried. He pressed his lips down tight and returned to Nikita.
"Nikita, please. Come into the office."
Nikita, cancel her…
"Sometimes she has blackouts," Michael explained. "They never last more than a few minutes."
"How unusual," said Dr. Linton.
Cancel her, Nikita…
Michael tugged at Nikita's arm a little more forcefully. Nikita's gaze moved towards the doctor. She began to move, pushing her weight past Michael, her hands lifting.
"Perhaps it would be best if you could move her slowly into my office…."
Michael's eyes widened, noticing Nikita and predicting what she was about to do. Before the doctor could see, he grabbed Nikita's arms and pulled her close to him into a crushing hug.
"Abort," he whispered into her ear.
Nikita's arms relaxed. She blinked and drew in a breath. She looked at Michael, surprised that he was holding her so close. Fear and adrenalin showed through Michael's eyes as he attempted to disguise his hold on Nikita as a simple brotherly hug. Nikita nodded quickly, letting him know that she was okay and that he could let her go. Michael held on to her a moment more, making sure that she was steady before letting her go. Behind him, Dr. Linton watched in curious and anxious interest.
"Is she okay?"
Michael offered a half-smile as he relaxed back from Nikita. He offered his hand again and led Nikita into the office. The two took their seats at the pair of chairs in front of the doctor's desk. Dr. Linton surveyed Nikita and Michael a moment before sitting down in her own office chair.
Michael glanced over at Nikita once more, checking her demeanor.
"I'm fine," said Nikita in answer to the question in his expression.
Michael straightened himself and moved his attention to the doctor. Although he was doing a superb job in appearing like the more calm and adjusted sibling of the two, she could tell that he was most certainly not calm at all. By the way he gripped the arm of the chair with one hand and began chewing on his thumbnail on the other, Nikita could see Michael's nerves bunching into a feverish ball. He did not turn entirely to her but allowed his eyes to move constantly at intervals over in her direction, checking and re-checking her movements. Nikita clasped her hands to herself and sat up straight in her seat. She breathed evenly through her nose and tried to quiet the voices echoing through the caverns of her memories.
Nikita, are you inside?
Nikita…Are you there?… Nikita…