It was all his fault and he couldn't do anything to fix it. The team had raced back to the safehouse, patching up Nikita's arm as best they could and trying to recover from their losses. The former was far easier than the latter. Once at his equipment, Birkhoff typed and hacked and searched wildly for his missing money. There had to be something on the banker's files. But there was no such luck. They never had any such luck, "There's nothing here! Not even us. Division must've wiped them clean."
Division. That was the only explanation for why the banker would withdraw all that money. Division rolled up to the scene, and everything went to shit. Fortunately, Nikita's bullet wound was on the mend, and she assured she was alright. That helped to calm Michael. Birkhoff, on the other hand, continued to stew in his frustration and type furiously. The nerd had to settle, or at the very least refocus. Building off of his comment, the agent thought he could assist with that, "Well, it was definitely Roan behind the wheel. I'm not sure who the woman was."
"Damascus was giving the briefcase to his courier, so it must've been her," Nikita supplied. The banker, Damascus, had left her and Birkhoff alone to deliver the briefcase full of twenty million dollars to his courier. They had thought it was all a part of his business. But once they realized Damascus was never online, therefore proving that scanning the bearer bonds they had brought was a ruse, the con became transparent. The team was played for Division's sake, because of course they were.
"Maybe that's not all he gave her. He withdrew fifty million from his other accounts," Beginning to pace, Michael attempted to piece together the information they had. It was far more beneficial than sitting and panicking over Nikita's gunshot wound; even though a very worried part of him wanted to do just that. He wasn't there in time as backup and… no, it was better to keep moving forward. She was fine. And they had much bigger problems on their hands.
"Yeah. But why did Percy take out his money now?" Alex's question only brought up one of their problems. Percy had his money, despite the team's efforts to stop him. They had a guess as to why he needed his money immediately- Nikita's threat. However, that didn't explain the need for Roan, why Damascus was shot, or why every scrap of money the banker had disappeared. Something else was going on. There always was something else going on.
Birkhoff knew exactly what that was, however. After getting heaps of nothing from his hacks, he finally connected the dots on how the team got conned. He had pulled it countless times before as Shadowwalker. The clients looked one way, while the money went another. He should've seen the scam coming from a mile away. How the hell did he miss it, "I don't know. Maybe because his underworld banker was running a Ponzi scheme. Who knew?"
"Or, he's worried that someone, like us, would get ahold of his funds. If they're online, they're vulnerable," Michael brought the conversation back on point. He understood Birkhoff's frustration- he did- but it couldn't be delved into at the moment. What mattered was Percy's money. If the team could finally find a way to take it out of commission, they wouldn't have to worry about him obtaining the rest of the materials needed to build his nuclear bomb so quickly. They would have time to make a real plan, a chance to cause serious damage in their war.
"He's shoring up his defenses," Nodding, Nikita continued the thought process. Michael built off of her as he mentioned that Percy would potentially be moving his money to the most secure vault he knew. Alex didn't need to say Division for the team to have already jumped to that conclusion. The underground hellhole would be where the money ended up, before then it would be in transit. That small window of opportunity would have to be when the team struck.
"So Percy's stuffing his mattress with my money," However, Birkhoff just couldn't move past his own personal investment in the matter. He didn't want Percy to have money or funds or any sort of power. But the nerd wanted his own cash more. Maybe it was a pride thing- how could the great Shadowwalker be conned- or maybe he hated having his things taken away. Whatever it was, he couldn't get past the fact. It honestly made him even more frustrated.
"He's not stuffing anything, okay. Damascus wanted us to get bearer bonds because they're small and they're portable. But like you said, they're illegal in the United States," Hopefully mentioning Birkhoff's own words would help him calm down. Nikita wasn't sure what else to say to assure him. She kind of didn't want to spend the time on it, anyway. The pain in her arm was killer; it pulsed maddingly. It was ridiculous to blame the nerd for that. But since he didn't shoot first, she got shot instead. A small bit of anger ate away at her over the fact.
"If he wants to use the money, he has to convert it all into cash," Fortunately, Alex continued the topic and Nikita was able to shove her feelings aside for a moment. She agreed with the young woman, adding a snarky comment about how the team took cash. Birkhoff still wasn't too happy with the situation. Yet with another heist mission on the horizon, it didn't seem too bad. It wasn't a total catastrophe.
"Seventy million doesn't fit into an easy to steal briefcase, or three. We're talking about a truck here," If the team planned on stealing the money, they had to start planning immediately. Their limited window of opportunity became even smaller with a transport truck involved. Michael quit his pacing, lost in thought over what their next move had to be. They couldn't accept defeat, but a victory with things unraveling as they were wouldn't be easy to obtain.
That was what got Nikita to start moving around the room. Well that, and the insistent pulse of pain in her arm. Walking and thinking could push it out of her mind for the moment. Pain pills could too, but she didn't want to cloud her judgement. The team needed clear thinking to stop Percy. They also needed to take risks. It shouldn't have been their first option. But if they really wanted to win the war, it was a decision that had to be made. Even if it was terrible, "If we find it, we hijack it. If we can't steal it, then we destroy it."
"Whoa. Destroy? We're not just talking about Percy's money here. We're talking about my money," Birkhoff wanted to leap out of his chair and chase after Nikita; he was just too dumbfounded to move. She seriously wanted to destroy seventy million dollars. Twenty of that was his money- money she swore would be returned to him. Maybe it was a total and complete catastrophe. The rogue had gone insane, absolutely certifiably insane.
"I know, but we have to focus on the bigger picture," She could've been a bit more sympathetic. Nikita simply kept on rolling, despite Birkhoff's shock. Alex and Michael were startled as well, yet they kept their mouths shut. They knew she was right. They also knew there was no use in trying to talk the nerd down at the moment. Both were set on their path and the other two just had to back off, for all their sakes.
"What bigger picture?" Although Birkhoff knew the answer, he still wanted Nikita to say it. He wanted her to admit that she deemed their crusade more important than his possessions. He wanted her to say out loud that she cared more about what she wanted than what he wanted. It would give him an excuse to keep yelling. And he could put all his frustrations somewhere, since typing at his computer wasn't useful anymore. He just had to wait to be proven right.
"Taking down Division," There it was. Nikita laid it all out for him. It was always Division for her. She had to take them down. She had to stop Percy, Amanda, Oversight, whoever was in charge. She pushed aside anything that got in her way, including Alex, Michael, Birkhoff, even her own brother. What was with that drive of hers that she just had to keep fighting the war no matter what. Other people were hurting besides her. It wasn't always about her mission. Sometimes the bigger picture was more than just Division.
"You mean our recurring game of whack-a-mole? Knock down Percy, up pops Amanda. Take out Amanda, Percy's back on top. It's never gonna end. And we're broke," Birkhoff tried to express those thoughts, but what came out was his lividity at their lack of progress. Constantly, the team thought if they just took out one more bad guy it would all be over. But that was never the case. There was another bad guy, and another mission, and another loss of something they cared about. The cycle wouldn't end, especially when they didn't have the funds to make it to.
Sure, money wasn't everything. But the costs of keeping a rogue operation actually operational were insane. And they weren't taking in any revenue. Without Birkhoff's money, they were dead in the water. Nikita tried not to be that pessimistic. They could work their way around the problem like they usually did. They couldn't be completely lost. There was always more than one option, "We'll think of something."
"You mean the way we figured out it was a good idea to risk all my money on one mission?" It was a low blow, but Birkhoff had a point. Risking all of his money was a terrible plan. Look where they were at then, scrambling towards their next mission in a desperate hope for a redemption that might not even occur. It was all shot to hell in one operation. Normally, that was how it was for the team. Yet they had to stop letting it happen.
"Hey. Things happen out in the field that we cannot anticipate," Though, as Nikita stated, the team couldn't control everything. They wanted to. God, did they want to have complete control in that war. Yet it was impossible to obtain. Their enemies were unpredictable, as were the crazy things that occurred around them. Her gunshot wound was the perfect example of that. She might've continued to ignore it, but as she learned across the desk into Birkhoff's face he caught the blood that seeped through the bandage. A sharp pang of guilt washed over him.
"Maybe you should've tried to anticipate a little harder," He tried to keep his eyes off the wound with a biting remark, yet the blood kept calling his attention. He didn't notice the con, and he didn't shoot the gun. Birkhoff was the reason the team was in that situation, not the unpredictability of the field or anyone else's stubbornness. Guilt kept eating away at him, slowly turning into bitter anger.
"Maybe I shouldn't have let you come with me," Nikita responded to his quip, her own anger matching his. Neither were actually furious at one another; though, Michael and Alex might've said otherwise while they watched helplessly from the sidelines. Stress, anxiety, pain, and guilt were just piled on top of them, fraying their emotions and any rational thought. Maybe if they took a second to breathe it wouldn't have been so horrible. But when were they ever that conscious of their feelings.
"Let me? You let me come with you? What are you, my boss now? I didn't realize you were in control around here," The second Nikita nodded in agreement to Birkhoff's statement, Michael knew he had to step in. He had seen that annoyed yet determined glare shine in her eyes numerous times- most often when her younger brother was picking on her. She was about to say something horrifically scathing. If no one put an end to it, the argument could turn deadly.
"Okay, look. Everybody's getting a little hot here. Maybe we should take a step back," Actively making Nikita step back from Birkhoff's desk, Michael advised the two to simply cool it. Except, the rogue and the nerd continued to glare daggers at one another. Under normal circumstances they probably would have agreed with him and moved to another room to take a second. However, it was far too late for them to give in then.
Nikita's stubbornness wouldn't let Birkhoff win the argument. In the past, he would've conceded to that- he wouldn't have cared. He was done sitting back, however. The nerd could be as pushy and as argumentative as the rest of the team. He deserved to have a say in the matter, especially when it came to his money. Alex recognized that, yet she had another solution, "You guys, we don't need to fight about money. Let's focus. I have money. I can bankroll us for now."
Alex's suggestion was more than alright. She could handle being the team's financier no problem. The team had their other way to do things, and they could refocus on the mission to steal Percy's money. If only Birkhoff would accept that, "What about later? When we finally reach those mythical postwar days Nikita's always talking about, huh. What am I supposed to do then? Go temp at an IT department somewhere…"
"It wasn't your money! You stole it! If you're so worried about your future, go steal some more," Nikita snapped. Her anger and her pain lashed out and struck Birkhoff. He probably deserved it. He wasn't being fair. There was no reason to doubt the end of the war with Division. There was no reason to doubt they could have that happily ever after with their family. Birkhoff just didn't want to have the hope to believe in it. After all the shit they experienced and continued to experience, it seemed unreal.
"That sounds like a great idea. You go do whatever you want to do. I'm going to go recoup my losses my way," Springing to his feet, Birkhoff gathered his gear. While the rest of them played annoying heroes, he would be making money. He liked that idea far more than Nikita's insane plan to destroy millions of dollars. But then again, she liked wasting money- a fact the nerd tauntingly warned Alex about, "Good luck, Alex. You're gonna need it."
Turned out, he was the one who needed luck. He thought he had had the upperhand after storming out and making the rogue violently roll her eyes. However, he let his guard down. Birkhoff was so worked up when he arrived at the coffee shop that he didn't utilize the same protections he should have while hacking. He set himself up to be caught by the feds, as he was too busy complaining about Nikita. The irony was, he had just bragged about how much greater he was than the team and any other hacker. Yet he led to his own downfall. He was screwed.