AN: Sorry for the long delay everyone! Thanks for being so patient! I hope it was worth the wait! I'll be updating regularly from now on! Enjoy! Reviews would be very, very appreciated :)

"Something's wrong."

"Wow, two words I never thought I'd hear you say." She teased him, but the look on his face immediately quelled her. He thought tactfully about the situation at hand. She searched his eyes for some insight, the slightest hint about what he was thinking, but she couldn't read him. They were in the woods, facing Kasim's supposed meeting point. The two of them were laying on a vantage slope, side by side on their bellies. Michael had the sniper rifle set up, ready for the shot, and Nikita was watching the scene like a hawk through her monocular. He didn't want to sound like a cliché, but he just had to say it,

"It's quiet, Nikita. Too quiet."

She looked at him and nodded. She moved to get up, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Where do you think you're going?" His grip on her wrist tightened.

"Relax," she hissed at him, "I'm just going down there to get a better view." She twisted her wrist free.

"Bad idea. We don't know how many men are down there, and we don't want to spook them prematurely." He grabbed her wrist again to stop her, but inadvertently pulled her on top of him. Their eyes met for a brief moment. It was very reminiscent of their meeting in the bushes at Victor Han's estate, just a few short months ago. Both of their minds wandered for a split second, wondering "what if". Had this been any other mission, they may have finally given into their temptations… but this was Kasim, and both of them were focused solely on that. Nikita regretfully rolled herself off of Michael and both resumed their positions.

"Look Michael, we don't want to miss our chance at this. If I go down there, I can get a better view of what's going on. I can be your eyes and ears." She almost pleaded with him. He looked at her, and he nodded in agreement. She moved to get up.

"Wait!" He whispered to her. She turned to look at him. He grabbed his lucky knife and handed it to her.

"Michael, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. And I have my own knife…" Nikita started to say, but he interrupted her.

"Yeah, yeah. You have your own knife, you can take care of yourself, and you're a big girl – I get it. Just take this with you for luck. Please, for me." He gave her those puppy-dog eyes of his, and she melted a little on the inside.

"Fine!" She went to grab it from him, but at the last second, he pulled it away. He smiled his teasing grin at her,

"But, only if you give it back." She smiled at him and took the knife. She made her way stealthily down the slope, inching closer to the building Kasim was supposed to be meeting in. Michael was telling her through her earpiece to be careful. Suddenly, down below, a black sedan pulled up. Nikita immediately dove down onto the ground, hoping she hadn't been seen. She saw a figure step out of the car, and make his way around to the house. Then she heard Michael in her ear, "Nikita! I don't have a clear shot. I'm going in." She turned to see Michael carefully making his way down the hill towards the sedan. She peered over to the car and her heart stopped. She felt an enormous lump in her throat, and as if there was a vice tightening around her chest.
"Michael, don't! It's a trap!" She hissed into his earpiece frantically, but it was already too late.

Roan had appeared out of nowhere, and shot Michael three times, square in the chest. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Nikita desperately fought the urge to run after him and tend to him. She knew he was wearing his Kevlar vest, but she still couldn't help but feel completely torn up inside. She also knew from personal experience that getting shot, even with Kevlar on, hurt like a complete bitch, and could knock you unconscious. Another car pulled up and Kasim got out of the car. He looked down at Michael, and over to Roan. He motioned to his men to take Michael. They dragged him over to the sedan, threw him in the trunk, and drove away. Nikita stayed frozen in her spot, trying to fully understand the situation, and plan her next move. Kasim made his way over to Roan, the two men shook hands, and money was exchanged. That dirty bastard, he's just working as a gun-for-hire. I should have known I couldn't trust him. Nikita glared at Roan from the forest. I can't shoot him now, or else I'll give away my position. I have to find Michael first! Nikita watched the two men for another few minutes before finally deciding to tear herself away and Michael. She vowed to herself that she would find Roan and Kasim, and kill them both. She looked down in her hand, she was still holding Michael's knife.

Back at her hotel, Nikita frantically went through her hotel room, searching for a way to track Michael. She opened her laptop. This was one of those times when having a Division-implanted tracker would actually come in handy. She briefly wondered how Michael had even managed to take his out. She sighed – that was a mystery for another day.

She'd remembered the license plate of the car he had been taken in, and logged in to Division's mainframe. She typed in the number and remotely activated its lojack tracker. Good thing the Nerd installed these upgrades on my computer before I left, she thought to herself. Nikita sat anxiously, staring at her screen while the map zeroed in on the car (and hopefully Michael's) location. When it finally loaded, she punched the coordinates into her phone, and closed her laptop. She stocked up on guns and ammo and headed out the door.

Meanwhile, back at the scene of the crime, Roan was telephoning Percy to say that Michael had been taken out. Percy smiled to himself.

"And Nikita?" He asked curiously. Roan said she hadn't been there, and that Michael had been on his own. Percy smiled satisfactorily to himself.

"Well, finish the job then, Roan. Call me when you've confirmed the kill and collected the cash." Percy said to his cleaner and hung up the phone. Roan flipped his phone closed and his lips curled into what could only be described as a sickly devious smile. He raised his gun, poised to shoot Kasim in the back of the head. A single shot rang out, disturbing the crisp stillness of the air around. Roan dropped dead to the ground, a bullet between his eyes.

Kasim breathed in deep and closed his eyes. He turned to look at the dead cleaner.

"You killed for money, not god. You were driven by greed, while I am driven by faith. That is why, my friend, you have failed." Kasim, having known the type of person Percy was, had suspected that he'd try and double-cross him, so he came prepared. He looked over to the roof of the house, and waved thanks to his sniper. He piled into his car and drove over to where his men were taking Michael.

Back at Division, Thom was growing anxious. It had been almost 72 hours since he'd last heard from Michael, and he was very distraught. Michael had missed their last rendezvous time, and Thom was sick with worry. He logged onto the shell program again, and typed eagerly:

Where are you? I'm worried. Let me know you're okay - I'm starting to freak out!

Thom logged off. He felt so frustrated, knowing that he could do nothing to help Michael. He hoped beyond all hope that he was alive. He decided to hit the training room to take his mind off of things – off of Michael, off of Alex, off of everything!

Meanwhile, a little ways away, Percy was waiting for Roan's phone call. It had been over twenty minutes, and Percy was growing impatient. Honestly, how long did it take to put a bullet in a head and collect a suitcase of money? He went back into his office and dialled Roan's cell. No answer. He tried it a second time. Again, there was no answer. Percy cursed and hurled his phone across his office, smashing it to pieces. Did that son of a bitch just make off with my three million? Percy brought his fist down onto his desk. He let out a sigh, readjusted himself, and made his way to operations to see Birkhoff.

"Birkhoff!" Percy practically barked at him, causing the techie to jump. "Bring up Roan's tracker. I want to see where that bastard is hiding." Birkhoff recognized the warning tone in Percy's voice, so he decided it was best not to ask questions or throw in any witty remarks. For once, he did as he was told.

"Alright, it says he's still on location in Uzbekistan," Birkhoff pointed to his computer screen. Percy nearly spat on the screen in excitement.

"Good. Send in the standby team to extract him. Now." Percy commanded to him. Birkhoff did as he was told, and radioed the team. He gave them the instructions and the two men waited in operations. Finally, the team leader radioed back to them.

"He's dead, sir." The words pierced through the room and stung Percy.

"And the money?" Percy barked through the earpiece. There was a brief moment of silence.

"It's gone, sir." Birkhoff sneaked a sideways glance at Percy, and saw that his eyes had narrowed into tiny dots, and his nostrils flared. Boy, I do not want to get on his bad side today, he thought.

"Get me Nikita on the phone," Percy said, very calmly. Birkhoff did as he was told, and got Percy's right hand woman on the line.

Halfway around the world, Nikita was just about to infiltrate the building where Michael was being held, when she felt her phone vibrate. Caller ID: Division. She was torn. Should she answer her phone, or go rescue Michael? Every minute was crucial. Every decision she made had a consequence.

Love, or duty?