The first thing he noticed was the hum. The lower Michael descended through the silo into Division, the louder the hum became. If all he were to focus on was that, he'd go insane. It was a constant thrumming that seemed to drum out his thoughts, including his anxiety. Maybe that was its purpose. The hum was to make drones of Division. No wonder Nikita had seemed so lively whenever she spent long periods outside of the hellhole; she was free of everything that had eaten away at her sanity. After all, if it wasn't the hum that destroyed a person, then the dull colors and barren landscape would.
Never did he think Nikita or Ryan were exaggerating when they talked about Division (Birkhoff, maybe). Michael believed the former agents about the hell they had witnessed and the fear they had experienced. He had seen the results of it when his analysis caught wind of the black ops group, and when his fiancée would return from an operation completely haggard. There was no doubting the absolute terrors the hellhole brought. However, dropping from the silo and crawling through the air duct was different. He just felt wrong. Eeriness seeped into his body, and he felt as though there was no escape.
Maybe he was only imagining things. It was as though every ghost story he had ever heard- including the ones about Division- came to life. The walls of the vent were going to reach out, grab him, and swallow him whole. Michael wouldn't stand a fighting chance. He didn't think he ever could. From what Nikita had told him, he didn't think he could've survived Division like she had. She managed to keep her heart and her soul. He was certain the hellhole would've ripped those out of him. He wouldn't have been strong enough to face the torment. It would've been so easy to give in.
Michael had to shake his head and force those thoughts away. He had a mission to focus on. Nikita was trapped in the server room, or worse. The alarms were blaring; someone was bound to find them soon. After all, the rogues were easy to spot. They were Division's public enemy number one. The agents knew exactly who they were, and they knew that it was a kill order on sight. No one could simply break in and out of the bunker without facing dire consequences, especially the team. There was hardly a chance of survival.
What was occurring outside the hellhole wasn't any better than the shitstorm inside. Division agents were enclosing Sean and Alex, needing answers for why one of their own was dead. The two were already fighting against the teeming hordes of psycho killers. Though the chaos in the barn weighed heavily on Michael's mind, it had to be ignored for a moment as well. All his focus and will power needed to be on escaping Division with his fiancée. Alex and Sean could handle their own situation. They were capable, and Birkhoff could assist them. Percy was the more pressing problem, as it always was.
Despite the mission spiraling out of their control, the team still had to take Cross Bow offline. Percy couldn't get another nuclear shot off. What had occurred at the power plant had to be the only incident. The world wouldn't be able to handle a nuclear fallout, regardless if a bastard like Percy held all the power or not. Chaos would ensue, and countries would fall. Of course the team had to try and do something. The CIA and the government weren't enough. They had to be the necessary heroes one more time.
Hopefully, it would be the last time. Attempting to reach Nikita through the com, Michael followed the direct path the air vents took. He was told it was a direct shot to the server room. At least, he hoped it was a direct shot to the server room. The last thing he needed was to be trapped in the mind numbing hum that could swallow him whole. The team would surely fail then, especially since Nikita started to yell at him to blow the charge. Things were falling apart around them, yet she wanted to continue as normal. It was their best chance to stop Percy. It was their only chance. They didn't get to have a second option.
However, Michael hesitated in following the order. Nikita wasn't clear of the blast. If he blew the charge, she could get hurt. Or, Division would know precisely where they were and there'd be no chance for escape. He didn't want either to happen. Yet, he didn't have a choice. It was then or never. And after everything the rogues had done and fought for, it had to be then. The team couldn't lose when they were so close. Even if they had to face disastrous consequences, at least Percy's weapon would be offline. He'd lose his power, and the rogues would've won in some regard. They could live- or die- with that.
So, with a pang of apprehension of what the team might face, Michael blew the charge. The com in his ear instantly fizzled and popped. Nikita had been too close to the blast. That was the only explanation for why their coms shorted out. She had been too close, and the blast was too large. He even felt it in the air shaft. Why did everything have to get consecutively worse for the team. Shouldn't they have some victories without losing something drastic. They blew up a motherboard and took out dangerous satellites. Division didn't get to keep winning. The hellhole couldn't take any more from the rogues.
Except, who knew what the hell was happening with the rest of the team. Michael had been cut off from them, just as things were taking a turn. The last he knew was that Sean and Alex had somewhat taken back control of the barn, and Birkhoff was receiving news from Ryan and Kendrick. Taking out Cross Bow changed things, however. Whether that was completely for the better, or they had somehow made things worse, who knew. Michael didn't care, though. He simply had to find Nikita. No matter what, the two had to escape from Division. There was a happily ever after awaiting them.
Division's alarms were screaming differently at the moment. The bunker was on red alert for the rogues. Percy had to have been pissed. The team had ruined his plans for the last time. He was going to hunt them down and kill them. Hopefully, Alex and Sean were aware of that and they were prepared to defend themselves. Neither Michael nor Nikita could warn them of the danger. The two couldn't radio for help either. The rogues were fractured and on their own. They had managed to survive like that before. But could they do it again when the stakes were so high- when they had finally run into a deadend.
That was what they had hit, right. The rogues slammed head first into a deadend. They had taken the worldwide threat out of play, and they were left wondering what was next for them. Escape was seeming more and more impossible. Their surgical strike had quickly shifted into the suicide mission they had feared. It was going to take more than they could offer to get themselves out of the situation. Everything that had ever gone wrong on missions before seemed like nothing compared to that moment. After all, being trapped in and out of Division was all of their nightmares come true.
They couldn't let that overwhelm them. The terrible situation they faced couldn't be the thing that defeated them. The rogues had to go out fighting, or not at all. Michael used that courage and strength to continue his way through the air vents. Nikita had to be somewhere. She was too stubborn and resilient to have let an explosive device she had set kill her. Just like her fiancé she was scrambling her way out of Division. The two could still find a way to climb out of the silo once they reached it. Enemy agents could be waiting for them on the other side, but they couldn't dwell on that too much. It had to be one step at a time.
Thinking that way allowed Michael to grab a walkie-talkie off of a guard he knocked unconscious. He could use the device to track Division's movements and lead himself out of the bunker. Hopefully, he'd be able to track down Nikita as well. They could escape and be free together. They could also help their friends with whatever hell they were facing. Everytime it felt as though they were nearing the edge of the forest, the woods just got thicker and thicker. The clear path to freedom kept changing. But Michael was ever so willing to find it.
Nikita was as well. She had had the same thought process as her fiancé, and also stole a radio off a downed guard. Instead of just listening in, however, she patched Birkhoff into the channel. The team could talk to one another once more. And it was just in time. According to Ryan and Kendrick, dismantling Cross Bow wasn't the end of things. Percy continued to have more tricks up his sleeves. The satellites had only been a diversion. He had set bombs, not sent particle beams. There were more explosives out there, and he was willing to detonate them if he didn't get what he wanted. If they were going to stop him, killing was the only solution.
Marines had surrounded the farmland above the bunker in preparation for just that. The military was prepared to invade the bunker and kill everyone in sight. As much of a saving grace as that would've been, the rogues couldn't allow the military to rush in guns blazing. So many people would die. Division agents didn't deserve that. They were still victims, after all. Also, the chaos might give Percy a chance to escape unnoticed. The bastardly cockroach had his ways to slither out of any dangerous situation. He couldn't do it again that time. He needed to die.
It was up to the team to ensure that happened. Ryan ran interference with Kendrick for them, Birkhoff did what he could with their limited communications and tech, Alex and Sean handled things topside, and Michael and Nikita finally found their way back to each other. They met in a secluded area and planned for their attack as best as they could in their short amount of time. While Nikita went after Percy, Michael was to distract operations. That should allow them some success. There wasn't really an alternative. Their war was ending that night.
Although he hated separating from his fiancée, Michael didn't fight the idea. He knew what was at stake. They had to kill Percy; they had to split up. However, before Nikita took off one last time, Michael grabbed her and kissed her. He could joke that it was for luck, but the affection that poured out of him was too strong. She had said she couldn't die in that hellhole without him. And after spending far too long in that dull hum, he couldn't die without her either. They needed one another more than anything, especially in their last desperate push. They had to share their strength. It was the one thing that'd help them survive the coming onslaught.