"Ramirez, report your position."

"All is quiet up here ma'am," Ramirez answered into his headset, "Do you want us to check on the prisoners?"

"No. They have no form of escape anyway," Nathalia answered dismissively. "I have positioned about ten members of our team in the yard, so they can't jump out the window without being shot immediately. It would be suicide."

"Copy that. They can only escape through this door," Ramirez glanced at his partner, who nodded to show that he understood.

"I've locked it from the outside, so no one can get in or out," Nathalia said briskly, "Don't leave your positions for anything. I'll be in touch."

"Understood." Ramierez waited till Nathalia had signed off before turning to look at his partner. "Yo, Slater, doesn't it seem too quiet in there?" He gestured towards the closed bedroom door. "What do you think they're doing in there?"

.

.

"Escaping through the window would be suicide," Nikita whispered. The three of them were huddled in the corner of the room so that their conversation wouldn't be overheard by the two guards standing outside the door. "Which means we have to somehow get through that door."

"It wouldn't be too hard to break it down, but..."

"But we don't want to draw attention to ourselves," Nikita finished, "Yeah, I know." She glanced at Alex, "Do you have anything small and sharp that we could use to pick the lock? Like a hairclip or something?"

Alex ran her fingers through her hair uselessly. She shook her head as she scoured the room, looking for something they could use. At that moment, her eye landed on the discarded syringe on the floor. "Got it," she breathed, hurrying over to pick it up. "See?" she held it up to Michael. "It's kinda bent from the fight, so it could fit through the keyhole." Nikita nodded and reached out to take it from her, but Alex shook her head. "No, I'll do it. But you two need to provide a distraction so they won't be able to hear what I'm doing."

Michael frowned as he exchanged a glance with Nikita, "What kind of distraction?"

Alex smiled to herself as she crawled over to the keyhole. "Just do what you two do best."

.

.

"Man," Slater leaned against the wall, "Can you believe that we actually have Division agents trapped?"

Ramirez shook his head good-naturedly, "That was almost too easy. I thought they were supposed to be like, I don't know...like the best or something."

Slater snorted, "Yeah, well. If the boss can catch 'em then apparently not."

"YEAH, WELL EXCUSE ME FOR TRYING TO SAVE YOUR LIFE!"

"I DIDN'T ASK TO BE SAVED!"

Ramirez and Slater exchanged a startled glance as they both turned towards the door to better hear the ensuing argument. "Man, what the hell is going on in there?" Slater asked wonderingly, "You'd think they were ready to rip each other's throats out..."

.

.

"How's it going?" Michael whispered into Alex's ear while Nikita entered into a monologue, gesturing wildly. "Because I think Nikita just might be enjoying herself a little too much..."

Alex bit her lip as she concentrated, her ear pressed against the door. All of a sudden, she heard the click! that she'd been waiting for. "Yes!" she breathed ecstatically, turning to Michael with a grin, "Done."

"I knew you could do it," he squeezed her shoulder as they both stood up. He nodded at Nikita, "Ready for this?"

"Do you even have to ask?" She reached for the doorknob, but paused and turned to Alex. "Here," she handed Alex the knife from her boot, "Just in case."

"But—"

"It's a good luck charm," Nikita interrupted, smiling slightly in Michael's direction, "Trust me." Alex slowly reached out to take it, and turned it over in her hands. The cold metal against her flushed palms was oddly soothing.

"Alright," Michael said tensely as he positioned himself next to the door, "Let's do this." In a single movement, Nikita reached out and swung open the door. The guards barely had time to register what was happening before Nikita and Michael leapt out into the hallway, poised to attack.

"What the—!" one of the guards gave a strangled yell that was abruptly cut off as Nikita punched him in the gut. He doubled over in pain just as Michael grabbed the other guard around the throat, aiming for his windpipe. Alex performed the same gut-wrenching kick that Nikita had used, and the guard keeled over. Nikita slowly released the guard she had been fighting and he fell out of her chokehold into an unconscious pile on the floor.

"Come on," Nikita whispered as she patted down both of the guards, looking for weapons. She scowled when she found they were carrying only one gun each. "What kind of guards are these?" she asked in disdain, "Only carrying a single gun? They were practically asking to be taken down!"

"Alright, hurry up," Michael said impatiently, "We need to get out of here."

She shot him an annoyed look as she handed him one of the guns. She slid the other one into her waistband, and hesitated as she looked at Alex. "I'll go first," Nikita cautioned, "You two can give me a 30 second lead, then follow, "Got it?" Michael nodded at her, and pulled Alex backwards as Nikita slowly crept down the stairs.

He waited until Nikita was out of hearing range before he thrust the gun at Alex. "Take this," he whispered, "I'll take the knife."

"What? No!" Alex protested, holding the knife out of his reach. "You're a better shot than me," she said quickly, "You should keep it."

"Alex. Take it," he commanded, "You'll be safer with a gun."

She stared up at him defiantly, "Yeah? What about you?"

He stepped closer, towering above her as his eyes bore into hers. "Don't worry about it. Come on, we should go."

Alex glared at him as he switched their weapons. "Fine, then I'm going first," she snapped, stepping onto the staircase before he could stop her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as she padded silently down the stairs. Once she got to the bottom, she turned to see Michael on her heels. He placed a finger on his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. She nodded, and looked in both directions. Where had Nikita gone?

Holding her gun to her chest, she carefully began walking back towards the main room where the party had been held earlier. All was eerily quiet as she carefully pushed the door open, and looked around the deserted room. Michael stepped in after her, looking equally confused. "Where's Nikita? Where's everybody?"

"Must be outside," Michael jerked his head towards the door, "Come on, follow me."

"No, I'm going first," Alex said firmly, trying to push him aside.

"Alex," he caught her arm, a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Either that, or you take the gun," Alex hissed, trying to remove her arm from his grip. She met his gaze squarely, "No need to be the hero, Michael."

"Then stop trying to prove yourself," he snapped with equal fervor, "Follow me, and that's an order." He made his way over to the door, gesturing for Alex to stay away from the windows. Once they reached the door, he took a deep breath and grasped Alex's hand briefly. "You were good at target practice, right?"

Before she could respond, he swung the door open and stepped outside.

And standing there, side by side, were Amanda and Percy.

"What—"

"There she is," Amanda said in a cold voice as Alex stepped out of the house, "That's the mole. Get her." Before anyone could react, two gunshot sounds were heard. Michael whirled around, just in time to catch Alex as she fell into his arms.

"My god—what—!"

"Don't worry, she was only shot with tranquilizer darts," Amanda responded calmly, "She will need to be taken back to Division to be cancelled, of course."

Michael looked up in fury, "What the hell—"

"Step aside, Michael," Percy said jovially, "We've got two for the price of one today."

Michael felt his heart sink, "What do you mean, sir?"

Percy moved out of the way and gestured to a body lying on the ground.

Nikita.