A/N: just a heads up- 2 chapters left in this story!
Michael sat stiffly in the seat recently vacated by Amanda. He sat still, his gaze focusing on the wall in front of him. He ignored both Alex and Nikita, both of whom he could feel staring at him in various degrees of disbelief.
"Yo, Michael…" Birkhoff started, his fingers flying over the laptop in front of him. He pressed a couple more buttons, and Michael heard two significant beeps. "No audio…and no visual." Birkhoff sat back in his seat with a grin, "Am I good or am I good?"
Michael went over and waved a hand in front of the security camera, "You sure? They can't see anything?"
"Nada," Birkhoff stood up, glancing nervously around the room. "How about I go stand outside and let you guys…talk?" He paused at the door and turned back, "Hey, Niki…you're looking good. You know, for a criminal and all."
Nikita merely rolled her eyes, and Birkhoff took one more look at Michael's expression before quickly shutting the door behind him.
Then there was silence.
"You trust him?" Nikita asked finally, gesturing to the supposedly disabled security camera.
"He's loyal," Michael answered, his gaze flicking towards the door. He could see Birkhoff pacing back and forth outside, waiting for Amanda and Percy to return. "Okay, we don't have a lot of time." He turned to look at Alex, "How long do you think it will take them to search Jaden's room?"
"I'm sure Jaden hid the memory card really well," Alex shifted uncomfortably, "So, like 20 minutes?"
"It's Amanda. Give it 10," Nikita cut in, her eyes flashing with anger. "Michael, what are you doing?"
Michael took a deep breath, "You told me a long time ago that the reason I stayed at Division was to protect my recruits. That's what I'm doing."
Alex looked down at the ground, "Michael, you shouldn't…I mean, I'm not—"
He held up a hand, "I don't want to know."
"But—"
"No," he said sharply, "I told you before that I didn't care what your secret was. I still don't." He softened his tone, "I'm still Division, Alex. I can't know these things."
"Are you?" Nikita met his gaze, and Michael had an eerie feeling that she could see right through him. "You can't play both sides, Michael. You can't be both."
He closed his eyes briefly, "Nikita…you know I have to stay Division. You know why."
She stood up, a sad smile playing at her lips. "I know," she agreed, "So what now?"
"Now?" Michael halfheartedly smirked at her, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out his knife and tossed it to Nikita.
She caught it on the edges of her fingertips, looking surprised. "You're giving me a weapon?"
"No, you already had it," Michael said, crossing his arms. "And you attacked us as you made your escape."
Nikita grinned and tossed her hair behind her shoulder as she crouched into a fighting stance. "You know I'll have to make it look real." Without further ado, she suddenly kicked out at Michael and he stumbled backwards into the wall. As he scrambled to get up, Nikita launched herself at Alex.
"What are you doing?" Alex hissed as Nikita knocked her chair over and they both hit the floor. "I'm sorry, Alex," Nikita whispered, grabbing the knife and loosely slicing the skin across Alex's throat. She gasped in pain, her eyes widening with shock. "It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine," Nikita said hurriedly as she began to get up, but Alex reached out and grabbed her arm. "No," Nikita said quietly, "You have to stay, Alex. Michael is giving you a chance. Take it." With those words, she grabbed Alex's head and rammed into the table leg.
Alex fell unconscious immediately, and Nikita whirled around as Michael suddenly grabbed both her shoulders and slammed her into the wall. She gasped out as her head connected with the concrete, and she raised her eyebrows at him. "Gotta make it look real," he breathed into her ear before tossing her onto the floor.
She kicked his knees out as she fell so that he landed on top of her. She grinned, "Just like old times, huh?" Before he could respond, she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "I'll be fine," she whispered, "Just take care of Alex." She glanced at him, and he nodded to show that he understood. "Oh," she added as an afterthought, "And I'm sorry."
He frowned, "For what?"
She smiled apologetically, "For this." And she swung her knife forward, burying it deep into his shoulder blade. He shouted in pain, and rolled off her. Nikita leapt up, running towards the door. "I'm sorry Michael, it had to look real!" He merely glared at her, clutching his shoulder as the blood began to seep through his fingers. She paused at the door, turning to look at him. "I guess you'll want this back?" she asked, holding the knife out towards him.
He clenched his teeth against the pain. "Keep it," he muttered, "It's good luck. For you, anyway."
Nikita nodded at him, and flashed him one last smile before mouthing the words 'Thank you.'
Michael groaned as he crawled across the room to get to Alex. In the background, he heard Birkhoff shouting as Nikita took him down. "Michael?" Alex murmured, her eyelids fluttering open when grasped her wrist to feel her pulse. She turned to look at him, her eyes widening, "You're bleeding..."
"Courtesy of Nikita," Michael winced as he shifted his arm. He laid down beside Alex, and felt her move her wrist so that their fingers were entwined.
"Will she be okay?" Alex asked, closing her eyes as the throbbing in her head grew exponentially. She gritted her teeth; did Nikita really have to make it look that real?
Michael laughed lightly, his vision beginning to cloud from the blood loss. "Nikita will escape," he whispered back to Alex, a small smile of pride at his lips. "She always does."