Everything hinged on Sonya's killchip being deactivated. Although Nikita and Michael traced Amanda's location from the Watchman to her latest hideout, they couldn't attack until Sonya was in the clear. The bitch could discover what was occurring, and kill her forced mole. Her other, more willing, mole might have been kept distracted with a pointless task (if the team was able to narrow their suspects down correctly) yet that wouldn't stop Amanda. She'd be more than willing to kill Sonya- anyone- to get her way and torture the team.
So while Michael and Nikita got into position to spy on Amanda's hideout, Birkhoff hurried to deactivate Sonya's chip. He initiated the program on his computer and inserted the long needle into the base of her neck. There was nothing he could do to shorten the three hours it would take to override the killchip technology. No hack could speed up the process or make it more efficient. He and Sonya just had to wait. Yet they'd wait together. He wouldn't leave her side. He'd sit right next to her for three hours and distract her from what was happening.
They didn't have to worry about anything else. The rest of the team would manage the surrounding danger while the hackers focused on the killer tech. Nikita and Michael continuously had Amanda and Ann in their sights. The two watched their enemies' every move, formulating the perfect way to kill them both. And Alex and Ryan continued the mole hunt. Having been a mole herself, Alex had great ideas on how to root out Amanda's informant. She just had to be focused enough to implement them.
Her relapse and how that benched her from going after Amanda seemed to weigh her down. Alex knew she had to shake it. She also knew that she could still be valuable to the team by stopping Amanda's mole. But guilt at all the things she had messed up ate away at her. She couldn't shake away the anxieties of everything that could go wrong since she wasn't in the field. Despite their skills and planned surprise attack, Michael and Nikita might not be enough to take on Amanda. They could have used help- backup.
Eventually, Alex convinced herself that mole hunting was the best help she could offer her team. She studied their suspects, waiting for any one of them to tip their hand. After some time, a tech named Baker did. He excused himself from the menial task they had given him to Medical, but instead of heading up that way, he moved deeper into Division. It wasn't hard to deduce that he was going to search for Sonya. Alex rushed to intercept him. The second she caught the tech, he easily exposed himself as Amanda's mole. She had discovered him, so he had to kill her. That just made it all the more easier for her to kill him.
Alex only radioed Ryan over coms that she had killed the mole. He could deal with the aftermath. She had to check on Sonya, Birkhoff, Michael and Nikita. Thankfully, Sonya was doing alright. The killchip was almost deactivated. It would just take a few more minutes. She had far more patience to wait the remaining time than anyone else- especially Nikita. But she was mostly praying that the chip really would be deactivated- that she'd really be safe. Birkhoff was the first to inform her that she was. He pulled the needle from her neck and promised that it was all over. She hugged him tightly, and he squeezed, "I got you. I have you. You're alright."
"You're green. Kill the bitch," Excitedly, Alex told Nikita and Michael. Their friend was safe, and Division was clear of any dangers. The two agents could kill the bitch without hesitation. There was never any doubt that they were going to do that. They just had to catch up to her first. While they waited for the killchip to be taken out of play, Amanda and Ann left the hideout. It wasn't clear where they were going. But that ultimately didn't matter. Michael and Nikita just had to stop them before they even had a chance to get there.
With lead-foot Nikita driving, their car managed to chase down Amanda's in no time. Michael didn't wait for the perfect shot. He just reached out the passenger side window and squeezed the trigger. Unfortunately, the bitch's vehicle was built to withstand bullets. She and Ann were soon alerted to the agents' presence, and they swerved around to avoid them. Nikita stayed right on their vehicle. She refused to let them slip away, just as Michael refused to stop shooting. Unlike all the others, that chance to kill the bitch couldn't slip away.
If only that was their decision to make. The universe had other ideas for them. As Nikita inched closer to Amanda and Ann, ready to drive them off the road, something flew out of their window. Michael was the one to recognize it. The former Cleaner had thrown a grenade at them. There was no time to swerve or stop. All Michael and Nikita could do was duck down and prepare themselves for the blast. Hopefully, that'd protect them enough to be able to crawl away from the wreckage. But with their luck, probably not.
Whether or not Nikita had lost consciousness before she managed to clamber out of her seat, she had no idea. Her memory came in fragments. The grenade went off. The car flipped and skidded and flipped and skidded. And she woke to smoke and fire and pain. The latter she could ignore. She could move past some bruised bones and battered muscles. She had to get out of the car. She also had to be cautious of Ann and Amanda; there was no doubt that the two were still around. Though, they quickly faded from Nikita's mind once she saw Michael just laying in the road. She scrambled towards him, screaming, "Michael!"
His hand was stuck. His right hand was pinned under the upturned top of the car, and nothing he did could remove it. Michael kicked and pulled with all his might. But there was no use, even with Nikita's help. She tried to lift the car and to help him pull. Neither worked. He was trapped. Under 'normal' circumstances, that would be when the two called for backup. They'd gather all the tools and resources they could in order to set him free. Unfortunately, they were all alone. And between the car fire and an approaching Ann, they didn't have time.
"Watch out!" Noticing Ann raise her pistol across the street, Michael warned hoarsely. The former rogue barely had time to duck behind the car before the former Cleaner began to shoot. Nikita didn't hesitate to shoot back. Neither had clear shots at one another, however. Bullets bounced off pavement and vehicles until they were all spent. That hardly fazed Ann. She simply stalked towards the agents with her knife drawn. Although she abhorred the idea, Nikita quickly left Michael to deal with her. Removing his pinned right hand would be pointless if Amanda's lackey killed them. She had to be killed first.
While Ann and Nikita fought viciously, Michael continued to pull at his pinned hand. Incredible pain radiated up his arm, yet he ignored it. He had to get free. He had to help his fiancée. She was doing fine on her own, however. Ann got some hits in here and there. But Nikita dominated the fight. She dodged the sharp knife blade and reigned down blow after blow on the former Cleaner. Soon, Ann began to stagger under the attack. That was when Nikita made her final move. She wrestled for the knife and shoved it in the woman's gut.
Leaving Ann to suffer and die from her wounds, Nikita's furious gaze shifted to Amanda. She had remained by the car, watching the scene unfold with her usual icy stare. Although she had tried to call Ann back- probably still unwilling to kill Nikita because of her asinine lessons- she never engaged. Well, the former rogue was definitely going to engage the bitch. She didn't have any weapons left; she was out of bullets and she let Ann's knife drop. But that didn't matter. Nikita was going to tear Amanda apart with her bare hands.
Unfortunately, as Nikita stalked closer to the bitch, the fire roared behind her. That wasn't a good sign. She turned to look and watched in horror as the flames inched closer and closer to the leaking gas tank. Honestly, she probably could've ignored that. But Michael's right hand was still pinned under the car. He was stuck, and the tank was going to blow. Instantly, Nikita abandoned her warpath for her fiancé. Amanda was able to walk coolly to her car as a result- get in it and drive away as though nothing had happened. Neither agent cared that she did. For once, she wasn't the pressing danger. The explosion would take them both out before she could.
"No! Go! Please. I love you, so just go," After countless more failed attempts to yank his hand free, Michael shoved at Nikita with his free hand; he pleaded with her. He was trapped. It was helpless. There was no use in trying to save him. He was never going to get free of the car. But Nikita could run away. She could escape the fire creeping up on the gas tank. She didn't have to die. Desperately, Michael shoved at his fiancée. She had to go. Please. For once, she had to listen to him and save herself. He was content with dying at that moment if it meant she lived. Please. Nikita had to live.
"No!" It wasn't stubbornness. It wasn't a power struggle. It wasn't a need to rebel. Nikita didn't listen to Michael because she needed him. She needed him more than anything in the world. If that meant she died along with him, then so fucking be it. She wasn't losing him. Everything else in her life had been stolen from her. She had been given up, taken away, left by everyone. But not him. Please not him. Nikita was willing to spend her possible last moments doing everything in her power to keep her fiancé with her. She wasn't going to run. She was with him until the very end.
Except, the car wouldn't fucking budge. Nothing Michael or Nikita did moved the vehicle off his hand. The fire was going to reach the leaking gas tank, and they were going to die right there on the side of the road. A part of Nikita was fine with that. She was fine with dying- at least when it came to just herself. Yet she had to keep fighting for Michael. He had to live. Although he kept pushing at her to go, she stayed glued to his side. She wasn't moving unless he was. She'd find a way to save him. There had to be a way.
When Michael reached for her again, Nikita found her way. Her eyes followed the movement of his free hand and landed on the knife she had discarded. The thought flashed through her mind in an instant. Nikita was determined to do whatever it took to save her fiancé. As long as he lived, she'd do anything. She didn't give herself another moment to think about it. She grabbed the knife. The vehicle wouldn't budge. That was an undisputed fact. But Michael could move. Specifically, his hand could with some help. The knife she grabbed could definitely help. He'd be free from the car. He'd be safe.
Michael realized what Nikita was thinking the second she took hold of the knife. He didn't protest. He knew it was the only way. However, fear coursed violently through him at the sight of the weapon. He was resigned to whatever it took to be able to live with his fiancé. Yet there were consequences to her actions- huge ones. He could see them all in the knife blade, and it terrified him. He wanted to live with her. He really, really did. The pain that came from the swing of the knife just had him terrified.
The scream that ripped out of his throat as Nikita cut off his trapped hand perfectly expressed his pain and fear. Michael couldn't do anything else but recoil in so much pain. Thankfully, Nikita was there with him. She could use her scarf as a tourniquet for his wrist, she could pull him away from the fire as it finally reached the gas tank, and she could collapse with him on the street. His head fell in the crook of her neck, shock and agony causing tears to swarm his eyes. He had no energy or willpower to fight them. His hand- his only hand- gripped his fiancée's bicep with his remaining strength. She held him fiercely.
"I'm sorry, Babe. I'm so sorry. Please just hold on," Straining to hold back her own tears, Nikita cradled her fiancé's head. Michael didn't say anything. When he stopped screaming and whimpering, he began to pass out. The blood loss and shock caught up to him quickly. He went limp in her arms. Frantically, Nikita tied the makeshift tourniquet even tighter, and searched for his pulse. She only found a weak one. He needed medical attention immediately. He wouldn't be able to last much longer. She had to keep saving him. Michael wasn't safe and sound and alive with her yet. Freeing him from the car was hardly the first step.
There was more hell to endure.
