One more update left. I'm so glad you are still here reading! I love that the traffic on this story just keeps going up and up! You'd think with a story this long I'd lose people but it seems like we keep adding new readers. Very cool. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Stop it! He screamed at himself. "Focus." He said out loud to the stagnant air in the alley. He reached into his pocket and found his cell phone. There was one missed call from Amanda, and a text message from a number he didn't immediately recognize, he didn't check the voicemail or the message. He didn't care. Instead he dialed Birkhoff's number, the call went straight to voicemail.
"Call me back." He growled but he couldn't think of what else to say. He knew these calls were monitored."Its about… Claire." He said finally after a long pause. He knew Birkhoff well, if he hadn't answered the call he wouldn't check the voicemail, and he probably wouldn't call him back. He'd have to keep trying.
There was no time for a plan, no time to organize and develop a mission. Any planning would need to be done in route, he had about thirty minutes of driving ahead of any action. He pulled himself back up to his feet and started toward the parking garage.
As he approached the back door to his building he saw Nikita about fifteen feet away from the door along the side of the building. She called out to him, "Michael!" She shouted. "You pushed me away that night in Russia!" she said loudly, too loud for the alley.
"Shhh!" Michael hissed as he opened the door to the apartment building and held it out for her, she stepped inside ahead of him and followed him down the stairs to the parking garage.
"You knew how I felt, and you held me at arms length all those years!" she said "You told me you couldn't move on well, I did!" she snapped at the back of his suit jacket. She followed Michael down another flight of stairs waiting for some sort of response, when that didn't come she started again. "And you can't blame me for that! Daniel was a good man, and I loved him. Admit it, you were jealous!" she waited again for a reaction, Michael didn't even slow his pace. "You were so jealous of a man you never met that you let Division kill him!" He opened the door to the garage level and held it open for her. "You stood by and did nothing!" She hissed as she passed him but he caught her arm tightly and stopped her.
"I was too late." He said as he held her arm firmly in his grasp.
"Let go." Nikita whispered as she pulled slightly, trying halfheartedly to get out from his grasp.
"I drove up to the cabin myself. Owen got there first." He turned away slightly, he couldn't meet her eyes. Not now, not when he was on brink or reliving another loss. "I may have been jealous, but do you think I ever wanted you to feel anything like the pain I felt when I lost Elizabeth!" Nikita relaxed in his grasp she turned and tried to meet his gaze. His eyes were brimming with pain and heartache. Something had brought this sudden shift in Michael, what that was she couldn't be sure. She had a suspicion it wasn't their conversation here.
"No," she whispered.
He released her arm and started toward the rows of cars. He walked quickly through the rows, finally stopping at a black Lexus GX. Nikita followed slowly behind.
"Michael… I." she began.
"Get in the car." He said gruffly.
"Why?"
"Trust me… don't trust me. I don't care." He said as he pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the SUV. He got in and slammed the door behind him. He backed out and just before he pulled away Nikita put a hand out and opened the passenger side door.
"Where are we going?" she asked as she held the door open.
"Division. To get Lena." He growled. "Get in or shut the door, I won't wait for you."
Nikita crawled into the SUV and Michael started moving before she got the door closed. "What changed your mind?" Nikita asked as she reached for her seat belt. She heard the tires of the SUV screech around a corner of the crowded garage and braced herself against the window. Michael showed no sign of hearing her, she didn't push the issue until they were well outside the confines of the garage and onto the streets of New York.
"Glove box." He growled and Nikita opended the glove compartment and pulled out an iphone "Open the shadowjump app, chart a course to the 95."
"Does he need to add 'shadow' to everything he does?" she joked slightly as she opened the application. Michael didn't even glance toward her. Nikita did as Michael asked and sat in silence for another ten minutes as Michael drove manically out of the city, magically hitting each green light as he came to it.
"So, what's the plan?" Nikita asked. But the other side of the car was still silent. She looked over, his jaw was clenched and his eyes were focused on the road he didn't even glance back at her. His breath was short and quick. "Michael." She shouted, then finally reached gently over and touched his arm.
He started at her touch but didn't pull away. "Michael, what's going on?" she asked calmly once she had his attention.
"She's with Amanda." He choked. "We're getting her out tonight, if we're not already too late."
"Ok," Nikita said calmly. "We need a plan Michael. I mean breaking someone out of Division is impossible without the proper preparation."
"There's no time for a plan!" He growled. "Didn't you hear me? She's with Amanda!" he repeated.
"Michael without some sort of organization this is suicide."
"She's dead if we don't act tonight." Michael growled. "There's a box in the back, get me the other Baretta, and all the extra clips."Nikita hesitated a moment before unlatching her seatbelt and crawling back into the SUV. "And pick something out for yourself." He called over his shoulder.
"What changed Michael?" She yelled from the back seat. In the front Michael doubled his grip on the steering wheel but didn't answer her. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket again and called Birkhoff's phone number. Again it went straight to voicemail.
Nikita crawled placed the magazines and the gun on the console then crawled back over it and into her seat on the passenger side. "Michael, I need to know. If we're about to launch a raid on Operations I need to know why. Why are you suddenly so ready to risk your life and mine, to get Lena out, when twenty minutes ago you wouldn't even consider it?"
Michael shook his head back and forth frantically. "I can't." He stammered finally. "I need to stay focused, if there is any chance of getting her out alive."
"No, I need more than that." Nikita answered
Michael sighed and glanced over at Nikita for the first time, he was risking her life, he knew had to tell her why. "You really don't know?" he asked.
Nikita shrugged her shoulders, "No." she answered.
"Those keys." He said after a long pause. "Do you know who they belonged to?"
"Lena?"
"They're mine."
"I don't understand."
"I didn't either, at first." he explained "But then I realized," he pulled them out of his pocket and handed them to Nikita. "That is the key to my first car, it was a Jeep Grand Cherokee. The gold key is a key to my parents home in Evanston, the silver was key to Elizabeth's dorm, and the keychain was a gift from my little sister on my 16th birthday." He swallowed hard. "A gift from my sister Claire."
He pulled the keys back out of Nikita's hand and stowed them in his pocket. "Now, I guess, she goes by the name of Lena Ross."
"She's your sister!" Nikita gasped. Michael nodded. "I didn't know you had a sister…"
"I used to have a sister," He sighed. "I thought she died when she was a kid, long before any of this started with Division."
"Are you sure it's her?"Nikita asked as the scenario's of Gogle plots and Amanda's schemes began to circle in her mind.
"It's her." he said firmly. "I didn't see it before because I wasn't looking. But now that I…" he pulled out his phone again and started to dial Birkhoff's number. "It's so clear." He said calmly. But the calm was short lived as a few seconds later he began to shout again. "I'm going to kill Birkhoff if he doesn't answer his phone." He shouted suddenly.
"Michael, I think we can do it without the Nerd."
"He's in on this, he knew it," Michael hissed. "That glorified geek squad worker with a napoleon complex, lied to me… and after we get her out I'm going to kill him!" He shouted. Nikita blinked and pulled back slightly from Michael.
"He was her man on the inside?" Nikita asked "Nerd? But she said her guy on the inside was her boyf-"
"Stop!" Michael said crossly. "I can't talk about that." Nikita saw his hands tense around the steering wheel. "We're going to focus on what we know." He began to outline the mission, "I know, she is being held in room 17, sub level B. That's one small advantage for us, its close to the parking level with minimal patrols. But, there will be guards if its occupied. I'm going to go in, and pull her, when we come out you'll drive this vehicle."
"That's it?" Nikita asked. "I'm the get-away car?"
"I can't protect you if you go in." Michael answered. "If I'm not back within 10 minutes or I don't contact you, leave. Don't wait."
"I'm coming with you." She said definitively.
"Fine." he said with the same cross tone "do what you want."
"And Birkhoff," Nikita said. "I think we should get him out too…"
"Oh, screw him!" Michael growled.
"Michael!" Nikita said sharply "She'd want you to get him out too."
"Since when, have you ever wanted anything to do with Birkhoff?"
"I just think that if she loves him…"
"Oh, please." He growled. "She doesn't love him."
Nikita opened her mouth to start again but Michael interrupted her. "I'm going to get his sorry little ass out of there too! But she's first!"
5:15
Set
"Beep"
Armed
5:14…5:13…5:12
Birkhoff watched as the tiny digital read began to tick away on the explosive he set under Amanda's desk. Then he flipped his bag shut and secured his gun into the back of his pants and a knife he'd checked out from the armory in his boot. Just like Michael always did. He left his Division cell phone where it lay blinking on the desk. It had a tracking device, in the off chance he did get out with Claire it would only lead the Division strike team straight to their location. Still, it was hard to leave the cell phone he'd spent so many hours modifying with links, apps, and other capabilities, behind. He pulled the messenger bag off the floor and headed for the door.
He brushed past two guards as he made his way away from Amanda's office, no one engaged him in conversation. No one even looked at him and for that he was thankful. He made his way unnoticed a deserted corridor on the north end of Division. It contained an access panel to the air ventilation system. He crawled inside and made his way to the end of the tunnel. At the end he found a ladder which he climbed until he reached sublevel B and slid into the air ducts. It was a tight fit with the laptop bag slung over his shoulder, but he managed to move efficiently through the metal ducts. He pulled himself along until he reached a point that he thought was above Claire's room.
He rolled over onto his side and dug deep into his bag until he extracted his tablet computer from the side pocket. The tablet now displayed a blueprint of Division with a little green dot marking his location about two and a half holding rooms down from Claire's. He pressed another button and the tablet displayed the views from all the security camera's in the area. He first took note of the guards outside Claire's room, he would need to get by them. Then he scanned the nearby hallways for Amanda. He couldn't find her on any of the cameras, but that didn't mean much. Division was full of corridors, corners, and nooks that were free of cameras. He shimmied carefully and quietly down the tunnel closer to Claire's room, he didn't need to worry about being heard, as far as he could tell she was alone. He finally stopped next to the air exchange vent that led into her room. He pulled the gun from the back of his pants and made sure it was properly loaded. Again he pulled the tablet computer from his bag and watched the cameras outside of the room. The guards still waited patiently outside the room. Down two levels in the armory he saw Roan appear on a security feed.
Birkhoff switched back to the feed of the two guards. He braced himself inside the air duct as the explosive he'd set five minutes earlier violently shook the structure. On the tablet he watched one of the guards disappear to check out the explosion. On another camera Roan disappeared. When the alarms began to blare, he kicked out the grate between him and Claire's room.
"Claire!" he shouted down into the room. He poked his head out of the grate and saw her below him strapped to the inquisition chair. Then one of the guards opened the door. He pulled himself back inside the vent where the guard couldn't see him. He found himself staring at the gun that was cluched akwardly in his fingers. He had to do it, he sat forward again and peeked out the opening of the vent. He pointed the gun at the guard below, the man who didn't even know Birkhoff was perched above his head. It felt wrong, it didn't feel like self defence, and he had way too much time to think about what he was about to do. The gun suddenly felt heavy in his hands, he bit down on his lip as he watched the gun in front of him quiver ever so slightly. Shit. He thought as he sat frozen in the duct. He needed to pull the trigger.
Below him he heard Claire whimper slightly as she moved in her chair.
"Shut up. Bitch." He heard the man say.
Bang.
God, that was loud, he thought to himself. It had been a long time since he'd fired a gun without ear protection. Carefully he lowered himself out of the duct and dropped down next to the guard who now lay struggling on the floor. He pushed the man's gun away from him, then pulled his knife from his boot. He pulled the radio off the man's shoulder and attached it to his own belt. Then he found the hand cuffs from his back pocket and began to secure them around the man's wrists.
"You?" The man asked angrily but with genuine confusion. He held his good arm over the bullet Birkhoff had imbedded in his shoulder. He grimaced when Birkhoff forced both hands into the handcuffs.
"It's a good wound." Birkhoff said as he tightened the handcuffs. "You're should will be sore for a while… the Doc'll have you fixed up soon." He knew the man, they weren't friends by any stretch of the word, but he knew that the man's name was Ken and he'd been a guard inside Division for at least three years. Birkhoff turned the gun slightly in his hand "I'm sorry about this." He said as he forced the butt of the gun into the man's temple knocking him out.
After securing the guard he moved over to Claire. He used the knife to cut the bonds that held her to the chair.
"B?" she whispered.
"Yea, Babe its me." He said calmly, much calmer than he felt. The sudden rush of adrenaline had left his hands shaking but somehow his voice remained calm.
"That woman…." She trailed off, he didn't try to hold her attention, he simply worked on the tie that held her right wrist to the chair. She was hardly able to open her eyes, but when she did they were glassy, distant, and confused.
"I know…" He said as he cut the last bond then moved over to the medical cart to find a bandage so he could pull out the IV. "she won't hurt you again."
"No…" she whispered, Birkhoff turned his back to her as he pulled every drawer it the cart open. "She's here."
Birkhoff started to turn around when a force he'd never felt before hit him from behind knocking him to the ground. As if he'd been hit in the back with a baseball bat, the air was knocked violently from his lungs. A sharp pain coursed from his shoulders down his spine. He couldn't move and couldn't breathe as he struggled to realize what had happened. He blinked hard as he laid face down on the cold cement floor.
"NO!" he heard her screaming. "I told you!" She shrieked. "I told you what you wanted!"
"You failed to mention him in our conversation." Amanda said
Birkhoff heard Amanda's muffled voice and he tried hard not to move. He didn't know where Amanda had come from. She must have been hidden back along the wall. He chastised himself for not checking the room properly. That was agent 101. But as dumb as his move had been, Amanda didn't seem to be focusing on him. Maybe she thought he was dead, the only thing that indicated to him that he was alive was the pain in his back and on the side of his head. He must have hit his head when he fell… He forced himself to open his eyes even though the lights in the room seemed very bright. He could see Amanda, her red heels, and gray wool dress. He could see up to her shoulders but he couldn't see her face, the chair Claire was tortured in blocked his view, and her view of him.
"Our agreement was only good, if you told the truth." Amanda said slowly. "You lied."
"No," Claire coughed. "I told you where the boxes were!"
"Yes," Amanda said. "But you neglected to tell me about your partner here. Lies of omission are still lies."
"I told you…" Claire whimpered, and Birkhoff could hear that she was crying again.
"What did you do?" Amanda asked "How did you get an entirely self-serving individual to help you? Seymour knew that helping you would result in his cancellation…" she mused as she paused to consider the possibilities. "Oh, of course, how silly of me." She said half amused. "You convinced him that you loved him."
"Kill me!" Claire shouted suddenly, her sudden outburst didn't match Amanda's calm calculated demeanor. Birkhoff began to inch his fingers to his gun. "You got what you wanted! Its what you're going to do anyway. Just do it!"
"You actually did love him? And he loved you back? Clearly…" she said then she paused again. "That, goes against my psychological profile of Seymour Birkhoff." When she turned back to Claire a few moments later the tone of her voice was no longer contemplative but her usual detached with a slightly apathetic quality. "You forced my hand Claire, first with Seymour here, and next with Michael."
"Do what you should have done years ago." Claire said coldly
"I never wanted it to be this way." Amanda said as she pointed the gun at Claire.
It was easier this time, pulling the trigger. All Amanda had to do was point the gun at Claire and Birkhoff's fingers did the rest. The sound of the gun didn't startle him this time, and neither did the sight of her body collapsing onto the floor, or the crimson pool that crept out from under her gray wool dress. Unlike him, Amanda hadn't worn her Kevlar.
He forced himself up off the floor and tucked his gun back down into his jeans. As he stood the entire room swayed dangerously and he found himself grabbing the chair to stay upright. When he found his balance he directed his attention to Claire, who was sobbing uncontrollably with her eyes squeezed shut. "Claire" Birkhoff coughed. "It's Ok." He said trying to comfort her.
"We're dead?" she asked when she finally opened her eyes.
"Not yet." Birkhoff answered, he bent down into his bag and found the other vest.
'but she shot you!" she said, it was more of a statement than a question.
"Kevlar" he answered. He tugged on the collar of his shirt to reveal the vest below. "I have one for you too..." he said. Hee put the vest on her as she struggled to regain some composure.
"I don't think I can walk." she said.
"I'll help you."
"but I'll slow you down."
"it doesn't matter. We'll go as fast as we can and we'll get out." he answered as he finished buckling the last strap. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist and pulled her from the chair.
She was right. She clung tightly to his shirt and he could feel almost her entire body weight against him. If he wasn't there she'd topple right down onto the ground. He secured his bag over his shoulder and made their first few steps toward the door.
"how do you feel?" he asked as he began to dig in his bag again.
"I'm ok." she answered
"Right." He said sarcasticly. "So, you feel like crap."
"I'll be ok."
"Well, that's the goal, isn't it?" He showed her another gun he had stashed in his messenger bag. "I think you should carry this." He tucked it into the back of her jeans and covered it with the vest. "just in case."
"I can't shoot that!" she exclaimed. "I'll accidentally shoot you! Or myself!"
"You're a better shot than I am." he said while he redoubled his grip on her waist. "even when your all drugged up."
"Shut up." she whinnied as she tucked her head into his shoulder.
"ok." he said "on three... One... Two... Three..." on three he used his one free hand to open the door.
The hallway appeared empty but he knew they had a long way to go before they reached the parking level. The silo was closer but in Claire's condition he was sure she couldn't climb the distance. He tried to move as quickly as possible while still watching for any signs of guards or patrols but they weren't making great time.
He'd redirected the few cameras that were in the area. Division's internal security had never been Percy's priority. Percy preferred patrols and tracking devices to cameras. Most of the cameras that were in the hallways of division Birkhoff had installed himself, partially for his peace of mind and also on Amanda or Michael's request. Amanda liked to watch the recruits interact at meals and in the halls, Michael liked to observe their training and work outs from a distance. Birkhoff needed to know who was walking into his office before they got there.
"Can you go faster?" he asked as they rounded the first corner without any signs of patrols. When she didn't immediately answer him he stopped. "Claire?" he asked again. He tucked his gun away and took her face in his one free hand. Wherever it wasn't bruised and swollen on her face was white and pale. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot and she was shivering slightly though her face was sticky with sweat.
"Hey!" he said too loudly "don't pass out on me." she didn't make much move to comply but he felt her grip redouble along his collar and took that as her sign she was ready to go.
When he peaked around the next corner he saw exactly what he didn't want to see; a patrol making its way toward them.
"Sit... Rest just for a second" he said as he let her slide down the wall onto the cold cement floor. He made sure she was safely behind the cement pillars before he began to fire. He discharged three rounds down into the corridor. One of the two men yell in pain. More gunshots rang out as they returned fire. He could hear at least one man edging closer to the corridor where he stood with Claire, he shot two more rounds down the hallway to slow him down. Then one man popped around the corner but Birkhoff was ready, he planted one bullet between the man's eyes.
He reached for Claire and pulled her back to her feet. He heard a faint voice calling on a radio for backup. Birkhoff cursed his poor aim, he must have only injured the man. Several more alarms began to blare as he dragged Claire faster and faster down the corridor. As they passed the injured man Birkhoff took his weapons and pulled his radio from his shoulder.
They were only two hallways away from freedom but he knew that before they reached the garage they would likely be intercepted by the backup the first guard had called. He pulled Claire as quickly as he could, she seemed to be sensing his urgency because she walked along better now than she had a few minutes prior. Birkhoff kept his gun in one hand as he darted from cement column to cement column.
Before he saw the team he heard their heavy leather boots on the floor. He slid Claire back down against the wall and told her to stay safely behind the cement column. He crept over to the column on the other side of the wall and waited until he could see the team. Five men walked carefully down the hallway, checking behind each barrier as they went. He carefully lined up his first shot at the leader and fired. The furry of bullets that followed was deafening. Stray bullets struck the cement around them sending a hailstorm of bits of concrete. There was so much shooting that without a good vantage point Birkhoff couldn't tell how many he'd hit. He looked over at Claire expecting to see her curled up in a confused and desperate ball against the piling, but instead he when he looked over he saw her lining up a shot, he watched her fire and he heard a man cry out. "I'm out!" she yelled across the corridor and he pulled another clip from his pocked and slid it along the floor to her.
"I thought you wern't going to shoot!" he said amazed as she quickly reloaded,
She struggled to cock the gun with her injured hand. Birkhoff shot again and again until the he and Claire were the only ones shooting.
He didn't know what the next move should be, could they have possibly killed all five guards? No he thought to himself, that was unlikely. It was much more likely that they were waiting for him to make a move so they could get a better shot. But waiting here was suicide, another team would be on their way soon.
"cover me." he said
"no!" Claire argued
"just do it!"
"I'll hit you!" She shouted
"fine just shoot to kill, don't make me suffer." he said sarcastically as he reloaded his gun. He crept down the hallway and found one gunman dead on the floor, then a second. He pushed both guns away from the guards. A third guard was injured but unable to call for help or take another shot. Birkhoff took his gun and knife but let him lie. The fourth guard he came across was injured but much more alive, the guard fired two shots at Birkhoff but both missed; Birkhoff's did not. But as he found his mark so did a bullet from the fifth fighter Birkhoff hadn't seen. He dove for the cover of the cement piling as the rain of bullets began again. He pushed himself up against the wall as he tried to shield himself from stray bullets. When the storm of bullets ceased he heard coughing coming from the direction of the fifth fighter. He searched his vest for the bullet, this strike to the vest was different than the ones in the interrogation room. This time it wasnt in the middle of nis back it was lower along his side. Last time he felt like he'd been hit with a bat, this time he felt like someone was stabbing him with a hot, throbbing iron.
"We got to go.." he heard from somewhere next to him. He turned to see Claire crawling toward him. How long had he been sitting there? Long enough for her to crawl half way down the hallway... "he hit the vest right... B?" she asked desperately as she reached him. "answer me!" She pulled at his shirt searching for the hole. "Move your hand!" She commanded.
He hesitated but she wrapped her own hand around his wrist and pulled it away, revealing a dark stain on his gray sweatshirt and a scarlet liquid covering his palm.
"it's ok..." he said "it doesn't even hurt that bad...let's move." he said as he pulled himself up using the wall. He reached down for her and pulled her up to his side. Together they stumbled down the hallway. It wasn't long before he heard the soles of heavy shoes against the floor.
"Someone's coming!" Claire squeeked. She aimed her gun at the air in front of her. While Birkhoff could hear sounds in front of him, he felt a cold shiver down his back, alerting him there was something behind him. He let go of Claire's shoulder and pivoted just in time to see Roan turning the corner behind them. He heard two pops then felt the familiar two hits from the baseball bat. He heard a scream and another two pops. He tried to pull himself out of the line of fire.
He didn't hear Roan's boots as he closed the gap between them. And he wasn't thinking fast enough to retrieve his gun from where it fell between he and Claire. He wasn't thinking fast enough because Claire was lying next to him on the floor where he'd let her fall. She was laying very still.
When he saw Roan's boots it was already too late."no." he said simply while he kicked the gun out of Birkhoff's reach. "I don't think so."
He knelt down on one knee and checked Claire for a pulse. "humph" he said slightly as he started to raise his gun again.
The next shot Birkhoff heard was from a completely different gun, one with a silencer. He saw Roan fall back onto the ground. Birkhoff struggled to sit up amd as he did two strong hands pulled him up into a seated position. "shhh..." he heard someone hiss in his ear, he'd recognize her voice almost anywhere, Nikita. They both watched as Michael walked past both of them and over Claire until he came face to face with Roan.
"Michael." Roan coughed. As blood began to pour from his mouth.
"you threatened her." Michael said coldly to the dying man laying on the floor.
"you're sister?" he coughed and Birkhoff saw another trail of blood pour from the side of his mouth. "I killed her." he said with a slight smile creeping over his face.
Michael shot one last round into his head before turning and rounding on Claire's motionless form.
"what did you do!" he yelled at Birkhoff as he searched for a pulse. He waved the gun in Birkhoff's direction before his face suddenly softened. "I feel a pulse..." he said before he began to search for the source of the blood that caked her white t-shirt under the vest.
"the blood's not hers." he said quietly as he leaned harder against Nikita.
Michael's eyes slid down to where birkhoff held his side with a bloody hand. "let's go" he said as he easily pulled Claire up into his arms.
Her mind focused slowly, it was difficult to focus on the sounds that she knew were voices around her. A car door slammed, there was movement, and there was talking. When she did dare to open her eyes the world was hazy and dark. It took her several moments to decide that she was in a vehicle, but with whom, she wasn't sure. A sense of panic began to build inside of her, slowly at first then faster and faster. She tried to move but something was holding her down. She couldn't help it, she screamed and pulled at the thing holding her. She didn't think about her injured hand as she tried to free herself and before long she was crying out in pain and not panic. A paralyzing pain radiated up her left arm through her shoulder. "Claire, Stop!" She heard from somewhere around her.
"It's alright, don't flail." She heard another voice attempt to comfort her. She felt the restraints release. "Birkhoff!"
"Mikey, don't crash, Claire's not buckled." She heard Birkhoff say, his voice was much quieter than the others.
The more she tried to move the dizzier she felt, she felt a strong hand push her back against the car seat. "Don't move too much." Niktia's voice was strong and commanding but still comforting. "Give it time to wear off, don't force it." She said.
"Where are we?" Claire asked finding her mouth was as dry as cotton.
"Leaving Division, we'll be in the city in under an hour." Nikita said as she buckled the seatbelt. Claire found her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness. Michael was driving the vehicle and Nikita was tending to her and Birkhoff in the back seat.
"B!" Claire shouted suddenly "You were shot!"
"Yea, I know." He answered curtly then seemed to backpedal. "I'm fine Babe, really." He said as he grasped her good hand.
"Birkhoff don't pass out!" She heard Michael shout from the front seat. "I don't want you going into shock."
Birkhoff nodded and held Claire's hand tight in the back of the car. He seemed calm as Nikita pressed rags and whatever she could find against the hole in his side. Every so often he winced and grabbed her hand just a little bit tighter.
"We need a doctor," Nikita said to Michael
"I know." he answered "I know about four guys we could call but Division knows all of them."
"I know a guy but he operates down in the Bronx, that's too far away."
"That might be our only option." Michael said.
"I know one" Claire said quietly "she'll come to Hoboken. "
"what's her number?" Michael asked
"5550963" she answered slowly, she was a little amazed she could remember it, she couldn't clearly remember escaping Division and that was only a few minutes ago.
"area code?" Michael asked
"619" Michael dialed the number from the front seat then hung up.
"it's no good, it's a voicemail for some pizza place."
"Give me the phone." Claire instructed. She redialed the number again and placed the phone on speaker. After a few rings, a voicemail picked up.
"Joey's pizza leave your order and we'll call you back."
"Hi, its Rach. I need a small, mac and cheese, um… medium pepperoni. Two sodas, a regular and a diet. No breadsticks. And delivery to Hoboken? Call back to confirm." She said shakily and ended the call.
"What the hell was that!" Nikita asked exasperatedly "you're ordering a pizza!"
"No," Michael interrupted. "That was code. single gunshot wound, possible overdose, and two non injured people accompanying, no pursuit." he glanced back into the rearview mirror. "right?"
"yea." Claire nodded.
The phone buzzed again, "Is this line secure?" Claire asked Michael
"Yes." Michael answered.
"Oh, Rose! I'm so glad you called back!" Lena cried "I'm ok," She listened a few seconds to Rose before speaking again. "I know… I know… I'll explain everything." She answered before Nikita reached over and pulled the phone out of her hands. "What are you!" she squeaked at Nikita but Birkhoff put a hand around her shoulder and stopped her.
"Its ok." He whispered.
The foggy part of her mind tried to listen to Nikita on the phone with Rose but she found the conversation difficult to follow. She let her head bob onto Birkhoff's shoulder, his presence was comforting, she felt safe cuddled against his hoodie. When he winced in pain a few seconds later she pulled her head up, to her surprise he was already watching her.
"Thank You." She said quietly. "you were very brave."
"You were pretty good too." He whispered, he took another deep breath and finished his thought. "Even if you are so drugged up you won't remember a thing tomorrow." She smiled softly and he returned a half grin.
"No, I won't." she said.
"I love you." he said
"Don't, don't you say your goodbyes" she answered. "Rose is gonna help you."
"I'm not saying goodbye." he said quietly he paused while he took another deep breath "I'm just gonna tell you that more often."
"ok." she said then she leaned in and kissed him. When she finally pulled away he watched her clumsy movements and ran his fingers through her hair.
"how are you doing?" he whispered
"I'm fine" she said quietly.
"I know you're fine..." he said, rested, then took another deep breath "How are you really?" he asked again.
Claire reflected for a moment then finally told the truth. "Like I got hit in the back with a baseball bat after having way, way too much to drink." She slid her head back down onto his shouder "I feel like I really need to just sleep it off..."
"Go ahead." he said "no one is shouting at you to stay awake." he said harshly as he looked over at the driver's seat.
"Don't be silly, I can't sleep if you're hurt."
"I'm fine." he said.
"You got shot."
"I remember." He said as he shifted slightly in the car seat. "I'm good, really. Go to sleep."
"Are you sure?" Claire asked again and he nodded.
"Don't worry." He said. She leaned up and kissed him before nuzzling herself next to him, she fell asleep in no time.
A few short seconds later there was yelling again. Yelling that was so loud it woke Claire from a sound sleep.
"wake up!" she heard someone yell. "drive faster!"
It took Claire a moment to comprehend the scene in front of her, Nikita was screaming at Birkhoff who was asleep on the seat between them. His head rolled from side to side with the movements of the car and despite Nikita's sharp voice he showed no signs of waking up. Then it hit her, not asleep...
"B!" She screamed as she grabbed the collar of his shirt. "No! Don't do this!"
Hey guys... So we are almost to the end. One update left! Thanks for all your support please continue to review!