Nikita ignored her discomfort and focused only on the mission. Michael and Alex were in the air, and would be arriving at Amanda's hideout soon. She and Birkhoff had to initiate their side of the plan. He worked on permanently deactivating Sonya's killchip while Nikita rooted out the second mole. That took longer than she would've liked. The team was working on a tight timetable. She had to find the mole fast. Rounding up suspects in a single room and seeing who broke first wasn't viable enough. She had to draw them out- do something to end the war with Amanda and secure futures immediately.
Thankfully, Nikita didn't have to do anything drastic. Eventually, one of the suspects, Baker, broke out of the room by injuring himself. He didn't go to Medical like he had claimed; he went in search of Sonya. Nikita followed. The instant she caught him attempting to stop the killchip deactivation, she knew without doubt that he was the mole. And once she had that conviction, she attacked. Baker didn't stand a chance. He tried. But Nikita was faster and better. He soon lay dead at her feet. She didn't give him a second glance. She just hurried to get an update from Birkhoff, "Everything alright?"
"Almost done," Glancing at the progress bar for who knew what time, Birkhoff replied. Nikita had taken out the second mole. That threat didn't exist anymore. Yet he was still indescribably nervous. He couldn't afford for anything to go wrong. Just because it seemed like the team was in the clear, didn't mean they actually were. Birkhoff couldn't let anything happen to Sonya- not again. Thankfully, nothing would. The killchip was shut completely off. No one could ever turn it on ever again. Sonya was safe. She could live, "We're good. You're safe."
Despite his overwhelming relief and excitement, Birkhoff slowly removed the needle that held the program to deactivate the chip from the back of Sonya's neck. As soon as it cleared her skin, she leapt out of the chair and wrapped the nerd in a giant hug. Nikita chuckled at the sight. But she only allowed herself a brief moment of their happiness. Michael and Alex had been demanding an update through the coms for a while. They were running out of time, and they needed the all clear. Nikita gave it with a bright smile, "Sonya's clear. You're green."
"Let's kill the bitch," Michael replied excitedly. Alex voiced the same sentiment, already cocking her pistol. They had been hiding in the bushes outside the hideout, studying all of Amanda's movements. They wouldn't leave anything up to chance; though plans had to change when Amanda and Ann began to leave the hideout. Alex and Michael had to create the perfect execution as they waited. The two hadn't been able to move while the deactivation was underway. If the bitch caught onto them before the killchip was dead, Sonya would've been killed. But she was safe then, which meant the agents could finally pounce.
Rushing out of the room to give the relieved couple some more privacy- and to deal with Baker's body- Nikita beamed. It was premature. Amanda still had to be dealt with. Yet Michael and Alex were expertly taking care of that. The war and Division would be over. A weight was lifted off her shoulders. She could see the end. She could see a future. She could see it so clearly. Nikita didn't let herself be caught up in fantasies. She couldn't disappoint herself. But she could see it so clearly. Her husband held their baby in his arms, smiling so softly and wonderfully. Pure joy radiated off of him. His green eyes were alight with so much love. It was perfect.
Then the sharp pain started in her abdomen and rippled across her entire body. It ripped through her daydream, tearing it to shreds. Nikita was left nearly screaming in pain as her happiness crumbled at her feet.
So close- Michael and Alex were so close to Amanda and Ann. The agents had given chase in their SUV after spying the two leaving their hideout. They had hoped for a stealthy approach and to catch their targets by surprise. But Amanda and Ann caught onto them almost instantly. The former Cleaner leaned out the passenger side window and shot at the agents. Alex was quick to respond with her own volley of bullets. Fortunately, Michael was great at driving through all the dangerous action, unlike Amanda. He was soon able to gain on the bitch and her guard dog. Aiming her gun just right, Alex was close enough to get a clear shot.
It would've been fatal. Ann would've fallen first, then Amanda. Except, Ann threw a curve ball. Or, more accurately, she threw a grenade at the agents. Alex barely pulled herself inside the car in time. Michael couldn't swerve.
Alex wasn't sure if she ever really lost consciousness. She must've only blacked out how the car got from being blown by the grenade to laying on the side of the road. She didn't know where the fire came from. But, honestly, none of that mattered. She just had to get out of the wrecked vehicle. Russian curses flew out of her mouth as she tripped and clambered out of the passenger's seat. If she was bruised and broken, she didn't let herself feel it. She just had to get out of the car before anything worse happened. Thank God her adrenaline was pumping fiercely.
Once Alex crawled out of the car, she remembered what was occurring. The grenade was thrown by Ann. She and Amanda were probably still around, watching to see if anyone survived the crash. Any weapons Alex would've had to fight them were lost in the crash. She didn't think she should look for them while a fire roared. She'd have to figure something else out. Fortunately, she wasn't alone; she had a partner. Except, as Alex remembered that, it finally registered that she hadn't seen or heard from Michael since the crash.
"Michael!" Frantic, Alex scrambled to find her partner. It didn't take her long; however, that wasn't the blessing she was hoping for. Michael was trapped under the car. He was sprawled out on the road, sweaty and dirty from the encroaching fire. She probably didn't look much better. Yet she wasn't focused on herself. Michael was kicking, pulling, and shoving with all his might, but his right hand remained pinned underneath the roof of the car. Instantly, Alex raced over and tried to help him out. A nearby Ann and Amanda didn't matter if Michael was trapped. Alex refused to leave him. She wouldn't allow anyone else to die.
"Go! I'm fine! Go," Michael shoved at Alex to leave him. He appreciated the help, but only his prosthetic was pinned. He was hoping to save it, yet that was a lost cause; he would just have to remove it. Alex had to focus on more important matters- like an approaching Ann. Neither agents would be able to make it home alive if the former Cleaner reached them. She had to be killed. Michael's prosthetic could be lost to the fire consuming the wrecked vehicle. He could manage to take it off. Alex needed to kill Ann.
Although she didn't want to leave Michael, he was right. Besides, it was past time that Ann should die. Whirling around (and trying her best to ignore her partner) Alex prepared to face her assailant. She had no weapons. She had no plans. And she had far less training and skills than the Cleaner. But the young woman had to do something. Maybe she could just wear Ann down until Michael could escape; though, even that didn't seem like a great plan. Alex should probably just stop thinking. She should rely on her instincts. Those had been trustworthy and steadfast before; they had gotten her that far in life. She simply needed them to last just a little bit longer.
That decision was easy to make once Ann swung at her with one of her knives. Alex quickly dodged it and grabbed for the weapon. She wasn't able to rip the blade away, but she at least made Ann stumble. Alex was then able to adjust for another attack. The dodging and grabbing went on for some time. The two danced around each other, only delivering glancing blows of fists and feet. Whereas the young woman was just glad she was lasting that long, the Cleaner became frustrated- she should've been able to take Alex down by then.
When that frustration built to a boiling point, Ann lunged wildly at her target. Alex couldn't dodge the knife fast enough. The blade dug into her arm, burning and deep. She ripped herself away as best as she could, but that just made the gash worse. Alex screamed and desperately tried to grab the weapon. Ann anticipated her move and switched her grip. However, that was a bad call. As the Cleaner adjusted, the young woman managed to get ahold of something and shove. The sharp knife buried easily into skin. It slipped past muscles, slid between bones, and pierced something deep.
Michael frantically attempted to remove his pinned prosthetic the duration of the fight; he tried desperately to rush off and help Alex. Yet he could rip the prosthetic off his wrist until Alex and Ann had gone still. Panic surged through him. He spotted blood pouring from his young partner's arm and assumed the worst. However, when he hastily reached her, Ann was the one to fall. Her knife was shoved deep in her gut. She gasped and spluttered for air, but she would never have enough. Life was draining out of her faster than the blood was.
With that threat settled, Michael focused all of his attention on Alex. he ripped her scarf off her neck and used it to staunch the bleeding in her arm. It was nearly impossible with only one hand, and with Alex standing in shock. She had shot people before. She had killed people before. But she had never taken a life so close; she had never seen the life drain from someone's eyes because of her actions. Being severely injured after surviving an explosion, a crash, and a knife fight didn't help her accept the fact. She was just so hurt- so shocked by what she had done.
All Michael wanted to do was accurately stop the bleeding in Alex's arm, settle her nerves, and move them away from the fire that was inching too close to the leaking gas tank; however, as he moved his young partner, he spotted Amanda watching them. She never moved from hers and Ann's getaway vehicle. There was an expression on her face that Michael couldn't quite read. It was as though she was studying the scene in intrigue, yet she didn't quite like what she was seeing. Michael very quickly decided that he didn't care what she thought or felt. He just wanted to finally kill her. Ann was dead. Next was the bitch.
"Nikki…" Birkhoff could sense something was wrong before he could see it. Nikita had stopped in the doorway. She was on her way out, intending to inform Ryan, deal with the dead mole, and leave the couple alone to rejoice. But she went completely still. A pale, shaking fist clenched the door as her other arm wrapped weakly around her abdomen. Her knees buckled. When she finally collapsed with a muffled scream, Birkhoff raced over to her. Sonya was right on his heels. Nikita didn't notice their approach. She was too busy staring at her lap and squeezing her eyes shut. Birkhoff glanced at what she had stared at and paled as well, "Nikita!"
"I'll alert Medical," As soon as she saw what the others had, Sonya sprinted out of the room. Nikita continued to not move. Whether it was shock or pain or both, Birkhoff didn't know. And he didn't want to know. He didn't need any reasons to freak out. He had to keep his head straight. For once, it wouldn't be Nikita. She wasn't panicking, though. She just crumbled further in pain. In all honesty, that scared Birkhoff the most. Not the situation. Not the blood pooling in her lap, seeping through her jeans in dark heavy clumps. Not the signs of a severe miscarriage. It was the fact that Nikita hardly reacted.
Unlike Alex, who had lost the gun in her hand once the grenade hit, Michael still had a weapon on him. He had to let go of Alex to be able to grab it, and he wasn't nearly as quick on the draw as he should've been. He never mastered how to use a gun with his left hand. He had only ever used his prosthetic; it was accurate after some training. He didn't have any training then. He just had to make due. Across the street, Amanda was able to see his dilemma. She snidely grinned at him. There was no need for her to hide in her car. She believed Michael wouldn't be able to hit her. He aimed to prove her wrong.
Until Birkhoff's urgent voice in his com stopped him cold, "Mikey! Mikey! Nikita… it's bad. It's really bad. She's having a miscarriage…"
"She lost the baby…" Empty, hollow, hoarse, shocked, Michael could only echo Birkhoff's words. He didn't register anything he said after that. Michael could only grasp onto the fact that his wife miscarried while he was so far away.
He wasn't the only one who caught that. Alex heard the same news in the coms and snapped out of her shock. She clutched her scarf around her arm to keep her makeshift bandage in place, and moved cautiously towards Michael. His gaze refocused on Amanda, however. He didn't mean it to. But she continued to stare at him; though, instead of a taunting expression, she looked horrified. She had heard what Michael had said in the com. She knew. Amanda knew about the baby. And she knew it was gone.
Rage swelled through Michael. He pulled harshly away from Alex and aimed his gun at Amanda. He didn't think before he shot. He wouldn't let himself. He squeezed off bullet after bullet after bullet. Except, in his shaky, unsure, nondominant hand, none of them struck the bitch. She was able to scramble into her vehicle and drive away unscathed. Michael kept shooting, however. He couldn't do anything else. He shot until the gun was out of bullets, then he threw the pistol where Amanda's car had once been. The bitch had escaped. He had lost the team's chance to kill her.
Just like he lost his and his wife's baby.