"Where did you get those?" Eventually, Alex found her voice. It was hollow and vacant as she continued to stare at her daughter and Pj, unwilling to process what she had witnessed. Maybe it wasn't as terrible as she was making it. Kara was safe; she was healthy. So what if she was inside Division and wearing recruit sweats. That didn't mean she was a part of that hellhole. The mercenary group was dead and gone. No one was being forced against their will to assassinate or spy. Though, wasn't the team trapped nonetheless. By that point in their war, they had to see it through. They had fallen so deep into the rabbithole, the only way to crawl back out was to defeat Amanda once and for all. And truthfully, if they didn't kill the bitch, then she was going to kill them.
That fact was growing increasingly obvious. What had happened to Sam and Pj wasn't even the tipping point. It was years of non-stop fighting, missions, grasping at information, and realizing it could only end if one of the sides was completely destroyed. The team shouldn't have been so caught up in their own internal drama and hurt. All focus had to be placed on ending everything. It was just difficult when their kids were concerned. Seeing them sprint down the same path they had was nightmare inducing, especially when they didn't know the exact impact it had. Those sweats weren't simply sweats; they held far too much hurtful symbolism. So much so that it confused Kara, "Jamie and Max found them in some lockers. Why?"
"They shouldn't still exist," Nikita replied immediately and bitterly. Kara's and Pj's confusions deepened for a moment, but they quickly caught on. The clothes they found weren't just random things left behind by former agents. Just like the bunker, the sweats were relics of a time that had to be buried and forgotten. Yet it kept cycling to the surface. Secrets, lies, pain, nothing could stay shoved aside and hidden for long. Even if a person has moved on, survived, managed to escape the hell they had been through, they could be dragged back in a snap. The return didn't have to be substantial. Not everyone would be standing in the place of their demons, still on the run from their villains. It could be as small as witnessing the best life you could've wanted for your children crumble at your feet. Either way, everything was torture.
"Like this whole place? Or…" And that torture wasn't just evident to the older rogues. Although Pj let her sentence drop, she approached her mother slowly. The recruit sweats shouldn't exist anymore, neither should Division or their war. They should've been destroyed decades ago the second the Pierce triplets arrived. It was all things the team knew and wallowed in. Hell couldn't be destroyed. They always had hope that it could. But one way or another, the pain would lash at them and leave terrible scars. The best they could do was to keep fighting, and try to make the world better for others. Because as it had been proven to them time and time again, they weren't allowed better. It became only about survival then- a war to simply keep their family, while they played hero to everyone else.
The team continued to not exist to the outside world, yet what did that matter when they had their loved ones safe. Well, as safe as could be when Amanda had a target on their backs and she was using their own as weapons. That anxiety was what Nikita blamed for believing there was something else to her daughter's words. Pj's 'or' dripped with an accusatory tone, almost as though she wanted to start an argument about other things that shouldn't exist. Thinking the worst about her state of mind wasn't helpful, and it was a habit that had to be shaken loose. But it couldn't be helped. Fortunately, Michael soon came crashing into the training room. He was followed by Sean, James, and Max. Finding his son in recruit sweats was enough of a shock already. Seeing his daughter in the same clothes simply pushed him over the edge. Voice hoarse and strained with stress, he snapped, "We need to talk."
No one argued. Nikita and Michael did share a look expressing their hatred and fear over their children in recruit sweats. And Sean and Alex cast a glance at each other over the fact that James found his father's abandoned clothes. The two had always resembled one another, yet it was more pronounced in that moment. There would've been smiles about it if they weren't walking towards Operations once again. That was a weight no one could shake easily. The team was gathered in Division, going over intel and setting up a mission like years past. It didn't seem right, especially with their kids as mirror images (Oliver was also dressed like his father, and Felicity was adorned in her mother's left behind dress). They had to move past all of that, though. The information Felicity found had to be more important, "This personnel file was buried under some nodes in the server room. And it's been heavily doctored."
"How so?" Cassandra instantly asked for clarification. The tension around the room was intense. There wasn't anger, which they could count as a blessing. Parents and children hadn't split on the best of terms. Discussions had to happen and an openness had to be established. Forcing each other away under some guise of protection and safety was ridiculous. It just led them to strain. That wasn't how the heroes were supposed to operate. They were supposed to hold themselves as stronger and superior to the villains. Yet they were so heavily flawed. It was easy for cracks to form in their foundation, tearing them to shreds. Maybe Amanda didn't have to kill them when they were destroying themselves, even without her manipulation. The team had to get themselves together.
"Names and dates are correct, but there is a whole bunch of deleted information. The personnel file isn't completely fake. But it is falsified," Oliver replied with the many things he had heard Felicity rant, and with his own observations. The young agents knew enough of Division to be aware that a falsified personnel file was strange. It shouldn't have been possible, not with the super hackers that hunched behind the computers typing furiously. Considering Amanda had been there since the very beginning, she probably found some way around it. There was no doubt it was hers- after all, her name was attached. The file just didn't seem right. Jumping to conclusions about it probably wouldn't get them anywhere. But it was better than what they currently had.
"Wasn't Amanda psy-ops before Division? She couldn't have doctored information," Although Sean poked holes in the theory, he still hoped the young agents actually found something. The older rogues somewhat did as they hunted down the doubles. Yet nothing was enough. They needed information that would allow them to connect everything. There was nothing in the black book they had acquired that lent to an understanding of what was occurring. The Triad was also as in the dark as the team was. Despite the whole essence of Division, where they were was the best chance of finding anything substantial. That didn't mean they couldn't be critical. They just couldn't be negative.
"We've made it really far on fakes," Birkhoff helped the team grip tight to a possible positive. The fake IDs they had passed off over the decades got them into a lot of places they shouldn't have been. Some of them weren't even that advanced or good, just something bought off a seller on the streets. With the skills Amanda proved she had, she could've doctored a file to get past the CIA. The fact that it wasn't completely fake would've assisted her. That raised more questions than answers: like, why the hell she needed to falsify her records in the first place. Yet by digging into it, the team could have a chance at understanding Amanda. Her motives would be made more clear, as would her mission. That was all the team really needed to wrap their heads around the doubles and the mind control- what was her endgame.
"This data could actually lend some intel to the doubles," No one could ever quite see what Ryan could when it came to data, yet they trusted his instincts. If he said there was something there, then they'd let him run with it. The older rogues had managed to track down a handful of the doubles Amanda had in place. They ranged from high ranking officials- such as the German BND officer- to low level office workers. It was possible that since they had a small sample size, they couldn't comprehend the pattern, thus the need to get intel elsewhere. That need was multiplied with the knowledge that they couldn't expose the doubles yet. They didn't have proof to go to the public. And if they did, the target on their backs would only increase.
Everyone knew they had to expose and stop the doubles. The team didn't know their purpose, yet it couldn't be good. However, exposing mind control and switched bodies was going to cause a panic. They had to make sure they had irrefutable proof before doing anything. Also, if they were wrong about what Amanda was planning, there could be dire consequences- and not just for them. It was just one more thing to add to their anxiety inducing to-do list. In the past, the team managed to find times to breathe and settle. They got to pretend they were normal from time to time. Yet that had become so much harder. No wars could last as long as that one had. There was even a probability it had lasted even longer, as pointed out by Sonya, "So whatever is happening now, did start in Division. Or earlier."
"We can look at the journals Pj found for confirmation," Was all James could agree to. He indicated Amanda's journals that Pj was pulling herself away from, hoping those would hold more intel. As they were the bitch's notes, that could possibly be so. However, there was a hesitance from the older rogues to just dive right in. They knew what was in some of those notebooks. They had sat through her 'counseling' and probing, and could guess what kinds of things she had written about them or the people they loved. It wasn't something to revisit. Division and recruit sweats should've been enough- everything should've been enough. But they were going to have to swallow that down. As always, more important things were at stake.
"Amanda certainly is obsessed with the psyche," Max tried to break the ice with a joke. Small grins cracked at the understatement, except from Pj. She appeared concerned, and a little frightened of rereading what she had already discovered. She wouldn't let the rest of the team see her struggle. However, her parents caught her. Nikita and Michael shared a fearful and angry glance once again. Intel and information was going to have to be put on the back burner for the time being. Not only did the young agents have to eat the food the older rogues brought for them, but they also had to talk. The whole team had to seriously talk. It was the only way they could truly move forward. And, God, did they need to.