Chapter 2 – Day Zero

Nikita slowly regained consciousness. There was a burning ache on her side from the bullet wound and various aches and bruises from the fall off the roof. She could hear the sound of water dripping, which made her frown in confusion since she doesn't typically hear that in the sterile environment of the med lab. Her eyes snapped opened when she heard the sound of a cat meowing.

Where the hell am I? She thought to herself. There were various wounded animals in cages throughout the room. There were wooden beams and masonry walls around her. It looked like she was in a basement, which begs the question again: where the hell am I?

A door opened in the roof and a ladder was lowered. A skinny man entered the room rather clumsily and walked to where she laid on the bed. He reached out to touch her, but she grabbed his hand to stop him.

The man said with a southern sounding accent: "You're alive."

Nikita: "Where am I?"

"You know you wouldn't be if it weren't for me. Alive that is. It wasn't easy getting that bullet out of you."

"Thank you."

"Mother always said that if you're going to be good at anything you better resolve yourself to practice."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor."

She flinched back slightly as the man leaned down and sniffed her. He continued: "You smell a lot nicer than most of my patients."

She looked around at the cages filled with wounded animals again and looked back cautiously at the man. She pleaded as nicely as she could: "Do you think you can take these handcuffs off of me?"

The man laughed, like a patronizing parent to a child and responded: "I like that. The patient telling the doctor what to do. Um, I'll make those decisions if it's all right with you."

He's as much a doctor as she was a concert pianist. It was obvious that this man was seriously deluded and had to be handled with care. "I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"I will take very good care of you."

She watched as he filled a syringe as he continued: "Very safe here."

Safe from what she wondered. "What's your name?"

"Henry Paul Collins. What's yours?"

"Nikita."

"Nikita. Very pretty name Nikita. You want to know a secret? Besides my mother, you're the first girl I've ever well, uh um, been able to talk to."

She couldn't suppress her moan of pain when Henry injected her with the needle, his obvious lack of practice on a human patient evident.

Henry continued creepily: "No one as smart and pretty like you."

Whatever was in the syringe was making her drowsy. She vaguely felt him touching her and cringed with revulsion as he ran his tongue up her stomach. She fought to stay conscious as long as she could, but it was a battle she couldn't win.

Michael had been doing periodic scans for Nikita's implant signals for hours as he worked with every contact in the northern hemisphere trying to pick up chatters of anyone abducting a Section agent. So far his search had came up with nothing. No clues of her whereabouts. With each hour passing, the chances of Nikita still being alive grew slimmer. He had to keep hope alive though, or he will break down and crumble into nothingness.

He looked up as Operations stormed into the room.

Operations: "You're aware of the procedure Michael. Did you expect we would make an exception for Nikita?"

"No."

"Then you know you have a job to do and you are expected to do it. If you have to grieve then do it on your own time."

"You owe me 15 days." He watched his words take effect as Operations' eyes widened at the reminder. "For helping your friend." It was a subtle reminder that Operations wasn't above making exceptions to the rules for his own purpose.

"Yes I did promise you that."

"I'd like to take them now."

"All right Michael. You do what you've got to do but you're on your own. If I find out you employed any Section resources, put a drain on our manpower, I will act accordingly."

"I understand."

He understood Operations' threats. What Operations' failed to realize that if he didn't do everything in his power to retrieve Nikita and ensure her safety, no amount of threats will matter to him. Failure truly wasn't an option for him, for his sanity or for his continued existence.