Although Birkhoff had been kicked out of the system, the elevator continued to climb towards Michael's and Nikita's destination. They drew their weapons, prepared for anything that might be beyond the doors. Considering The Shop had found a way to rationalize child trafficking, the two could've been about to face an endless array of horror. Nikita gripped her gun tighter, "You think they knew we were coming?"
"Or no one was here to begin with," As the doors finally opened, Michael muttered. There was no one and nothing to greet the two agents as they stepped off the elevator. They remained on guard, inspecting the area with their weapons first. But there was no dark, shadowy figure waiting for them, nor was there a death trap. It was just an empty office space. The only special thing about it was that a cubicle in the distance still had a light on, "Are you seeing that?"
"Yeah. Someone left the light on," Nikita nodded as she began to move towards the light. Michael stayed close beside her, continuing to look for any threats. They couldn't decide if it was better or worse for their anxiety that they hadn't run into any yet. It was great that they weren't currently in a life or death situation. But they didn't like that The Shop hadn't tried to attack them; it didn't seem right. Something bad had to come their way. It always did. Ell that, and something earth shatteringly surprising, "What the hell?"
In the lit cubicle were two items: a simple briefcase, and a computer showing a live video feed of Heidecker. Michael and Nikita had seen some shocking and utterly bewildering things before. But that absolutely took the cake. Nikita had shot and killed Heidecker months ago. There was no possible way he could've been speaking to them then. Unless The Shop had more spy-fy than even Birkhoff was aware of. Thankfully, the last thought was quickly disproven; though, not in the best way possible, "You are not speaking to a man returned from the dead. We do not possess that technology… Yet."
"So who are you?" Although the surprise remained in her voice, Nikita fought to sound commanding. She wasn't willing to play any games with people like The Shop. Whatever it was that they were doing by having them talk to an image of a deadman they should just say it. Things would go a whole lot smoother- and she and Michael could get out of that situation a whole lot faster- if intentions and wants were just laid out in the open.
"A familiar face. This is a digital mask, as with the surveillance images that Michael found," The computer version of Heidecker explained matter of factly. Everything was fake. From the trail Michael had miraculously picked up on, to the computer they were talking to, it had all been a setup. But a setup for what exactly.
"You lured us here," Michael felt like an idiot for falling for something so obvious. He had seen Division and the rogues use and battle digital masks enough times to have recognized it. He should've been more suspicious like Birkhoff had warned. There was no telling what kind of dangers they were then about to face because of his mistakes.
"To extend an olive branch," The computer surprised both Michael and Nikita with its response. They hadn't fallen into a trap by falling into the Bellfar Systems lead. Instead, they walked right into a business proposal. Nikita and Michael glanced at one another warily. They might not have been in obvious trouble, but no good could come from making a deal with The Shop. Nikita had once tried, and she found a plane full of stolen kids instead. The two could never trust The Shop. That olive branch had to have come with a price.
Despite that fact, however, Nikita knew that she and Michael had to at least hear the computer version of Heidecker out. They had gone to that office building to steal him a new hand- one way or another, he was going to have a better prosthetic than he had. They couldn't leave without any results. Even if those results were more information on The Shop, "Not one for personal admirers. Who are you?"
"Who we are isn't nearly as important as what we can do. Please, open the case," The computer version of Heidecker once again avoided the question. A part of Nikita wanted to fight for a real response. But her attention was quickly stolen by the briefcase. It was larger than a typical business briefcase; it was almost like a suitcase. Whatever was held inside was more than just basic information. It could very well have been a weapon. Michael and Nikita shared another wary glance at that thought. The video feed caught them, and instantly tried to dispel their fears, "If we wanted to kill you, we would have."
There was no real reason for Michael and Nikita to refute that claim. So, with hesitating movements, Michael opened the case. Only one thing rested in the case, and it made Nikita gasp and Michael stutter. It seemed even more surreal than Kosta Bechiraj's leg. There was absolutely no way it should've been possible. Yet there it was, right in front of their eyes: a new hand for Michael, "You are looking at a bio-prosthesis. Tissue grown from Michael's own DNA drastically reduces the risk of limb rejection."
"So what do you want?" Michael immediately responded to the computer. He had already decided that he'd do whatever it took to get a better prosthetic. He'd give The Shop whatever they wanted for the hand- within reason, of course. If he didn't like the deal, he'd do what he had told Nikita and Birkhoff he would: he'd destroy the place and take exactly what he wanted. Either way, Michael was leaving that office with a new hand. Things changed that night.
"Consider this a gift. A way of mending the relationship between our two organizations," The computer replied simply, like there were no strings attached to the hand at all. Although both Michael and Nikita wanted to believe otherwise, they knew that wasn't possible. By accepting the gift, they were opening the door to new and worse things.
"I didn't know we had a relationship," Nikita continued to try and figure out The Shop's angle. The only interaction she could think of with the organization had been when she had killed Heidecker in Kosovo. That wasn't a relationship; that had been her running things for them. So what was it that they wanted from her and Michael then. She doubted it was revenge. The Shop didn't seem like the group to care about their own- any loss could be acceptable. There was something else going on with them- something that Nikita knew she could never trust.
"We do now," The computer's video feed ended after that. Michael and Nikita were left in silence with the hand and The Shop's technology. They quickly decided to grab the case and the laptop and hurry out of the building; they couldn't stand to be there any longer than they should've been. Unfortunately, once they were on their way back to Division, they had no idea what they were supposed to decide yet. They couldn't blindly accept an olive branch from The Shop. But they also couldn't completely disregard the hand. They needed to gather more information first. And they needed to talk before they rushed off to do anything else.
The hand was given to Medical to study and examine, and the computer was given to Birkhoff to do the same. While the experts checked everything out, Nikita and Michael tried to distract themselves with Sean's, Alex's, and Sonya's hunt for whoever had attempted to sabotage the server array. However, since there were no new updates there, the two were left to speculate and worry about the hand and the laptop. Until Birkhoff called the married couple into his office the next morning with some good news about the advanced prosthetic, "Doc said it checks out."
"So the hand is real. Everything Heidecker said was true. Any idea how they got your DNA?" Nikita focused on the one question that they could possibly answer. She had already learned from her time in Kosovo that she would never understand how the science behind the prosthetic worked. Nor did she think she could completely understand The Shop. But she could wrap her head around any spying the organization might've done to get her husband's DNA. And by figuring that out, she could start to consider how long The Shop had been planning to supply him a new hand, and whether that was a good or bad thing.
"I've got some theories, but they all end with me never leaving this bunker," Birkhoff shuddered at the thoughts running around his head. He was all for spy-fy and advancements in technology. But what The Shop was doing seemed inhuman. They were going to fall into some deep shit by making deals with that organization. Hopefully, it didn't cost any of them their lives.
"Well, Heidecker- the dead Heidecker- told me that The Shop has blood work on every Division agent. Could that also extend to the CIA?" Nikita began to speculate. Michael had never been a Division agent, so there was no possible way The Shop could have had his DNA. Unless they had the same deal with the CIA. Or, maybe they had gotten ahold of his medical records or something. Honestly, the possibilities seemed endless. The Shop continued to prove themselves as being more and more resourceful. There was no telling what else they might have known or even possessed.
"It's catchy, right? 'The Shop'," Nikita's use of Birkhoff's name for the organization was not the takeaway from her comment, but the nerd couldn't help himself. Thinking about how The Shop had managed to get enough of Michael's DNA to construct a new hand completely freaked him out. Just how powerful was that group. Birkhoff didn't want to consider it. He just wanted to make jokes and pretend they weren't waltzing into hell.
"Yeah, they've got our attention," Nikita huffed, eyeing both the hand and the laptop warily. Most of her thoughts were focused on what exactly The Shop wanted out of their working relationship. It couldn't have been something simple and easy if they were so willing to hand over such an advanced prosthetic. From Bechiraj, they had wanted test subjects. So what could they ask of Division, a black ops unit of the government.
Michael, on the other hand, was only thinking about how the prosthetic could be surgically attached to his arm. Division's Medical did not have the capabilities for that kind of surgery. And if he went to a hospital with that hand, he would be asked far too many questions. There was only one place he could go to have the hand attached. Which meant he was not as done with The Shop as he wanted to be, "The question is, now what do we do with it? I can't walk into a local E.R. and have them pop it back on."
"Yeah, that's assuming it's not gonna go all Idle Hands on you if they did," Birkhoff, once again, could not stop himself from making a joke. That time, though, as he mimed the hand possibly killing someone like in the movie, Nikita smacked him upside the head. He deserved that, so he didn't whine too much at the pain.
"So The Shop's the only one that can perform the surgery? Why am I not surprised?" Nikita rolled her eyes. No matter what they decided, if they wanted the hand, they had to deal with The Shop. Michael's plan to just take what he wanted would never work. They had to continue relying on them and paying whatever price the prosthetic cost.
"Birkhoff, you think you could get them online?" Nodding towards the computer that had been left by The Shop, Michael wondered. Before he made any decisions about what to do, and how he could possibly get around relying on The Shop for the surgery, he wanted to talk to the fake Heidecker again. Maybe he could lay out some kind of stipulations of his own. However, when he asked Birkhoff to open the laptop, the nerd didn't move. He looked as though he didn't even want to touch the thing. Michael scoffed, "What, are you scared of it?"
In all honesty, Birkhoff was afraid of what The Shop was and what it could do. Any place that made killchips and tested on stolen children was a place that should've been avoided at all costs. Their tech should've been avoided as well. He loved different and new computers and technology, but nothing like the kind The Shop made. That went against everything he believed in as a hacker. It should've been destroyed, "No. Would I rest easier if we dissolved it in acid? Sure. But I'm not scared of… Son of a…"
Before Birkhoff or even Michael and Nikita could press a button on the laptop, it turned on on its own. The live video feed of the fake Heidecker was back. Apparently, even while off, it had been able to hear everything the three had discussed. The Shop knew what they had discussed, and what they had feared. The reassurance whoever was pretending to be Heidecker relayed didn't help the three in the slightest, "Relax, Mr. Birkhoff. Our interest is in Division's skills, not its systems."
"Here we go," Under her breath, Nikita murmured. That was when they were going to be offered an opportunity they could not refuse. Because the hand was for Michael, she was willing to listen to the pitch, yet she was going to do so with a grain of salt. She was going to fight and question everything. The Shop wouldn't have anything easy when it came to her.
"We are thinkers, not doers. When we needed something done, we asked Percy to have Division take care of it," The computer continued with the point it was trying to make. Nikita had heard a similar pitch in Kosovo: The Shop supplied Division with tech, and Percy supplied The Shop with test subjects and missions. She had hated it months ago, and she hated it at that moment. She couldn't make that kind of deal, especially after discovering that The Shop considered stolen and tossed aside children as nothing more than lab rats.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I killed Percy. You're gonna have to come up with another strategy," Nikita continued to be very proud of herself for that fact. She had killed Percy, and she'd kill any other corrupt, evil bastard that got in her way. The Shop shouldn't cross her any more than they already had. If they wanted to make the deal- and she wanted them to make the deal for her husband's sake- then they needed to extend another olive branch. Doing their dirty work just wasn't going to cut it.
"Our strategy is mathematics. You do something for us. We do something for you. We need you to retrieve an item. Deliver it to us and we will perform Michael's surgery. Take some time. Review the files. I'll await your call," Fake-Heidecker disappeared, and in his place were the files he had mentioned. That gave Nikita pause. A retrieval job didn't seem too bad. And they could know what they were grabbing before they actually agreed to do it. Maybe what they'd have to do to get Michael his hand wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Glancing at her husband, Nikita noticed that he was thinking the same as her.
Birkhoff's one and only thought was that they shouldn't accept the deal: they should find another way to attach the prosthetic. But it wasn't his hand they were debating about; it was Michael's. It was ultimately up to him what they decided to do. Birkhoff would help with whatever it was- no doubt his hacking skills would be needed to ensure everyone's safety. Yet that wouldn't mean he'd like the plan or the mission. He'd continuously make his opinion known: The Shop was no good, "You two should talk. For whatever it's worth, my vote goes for Operation Dissolve the Laptop in Acid.
As the hacker left his cave, the married couple directed their attention towards each other. Nikita remained contemplative about doing anything The Shop asked of them. However, Michael was completely on board. He wasn't going to let the opportunity for a better prosthetic slip past him. He was going to grab hold of it tightly and never let go, "I know what you're thinking. This is a bad idea. But Nikita, when I found out about this, I didn't believe it was possible, but now that it's right in front of us…"
"I just thought you were getting used to the replacement. That's all," Nikita muttered with a shrug. She had thought that things were getting better between them. She had thought that they were communicating more openly and truthfully, and she had thought that they were moving forward together. She had had no idea that Michael continued to struggle with his Division issued prosthetic. Yes, he wasn't exactly back in the field with her. But he wasn't struggling as much anymore. At least, not struggling so obviously.
"I'm trying to make do, but… When I realized that there was something out there that was real, then every glitch, every spike of pain made it that much worse," Michael explained. He was still trying to adjust to the lesser prosthetic. But it was difficult without the physical therapy and medications he was used to. Switching prosthetics wasn't like switching shoes, as much as he liked to pretend- even to himself. He needed more if he was going to function properly again.
"You're in pain? Why didn't you tell me?" Concerned, Nikita reached for Michael's right arm and began to gently massage his forearm. He had mentioned phantom limb pains before, but she had thought they had faded as he had gotten used to his new prosthetic; the same process had happened before with his old one. But, apparently, his Division issued prosthetic continued to be drastically different than the one he had gotten when he had been able to go to a real doctor, and have medicine and physical therapy, and all of the benefits of being a real citizen. It was just another list of things he had given up when he had followed her in her crusade.
"You had enough to deal with," Caressing his wife's cheek, Michael responded softly. Between the miscarriage and the constant hells Division had gone through, he couldn't pile more onto Nikita's plate. She had already placed so much weight on her shoulders that didn't need to be there. She didn't have to worry about him all the time too. He would be fine, especially with the prospect of an entirely new hand.
Studying her husband's face, Nikita wondered if there was anything else he had kept from her. If he had managed to hide his pain and discomfort, then what else was he trying to protect her from. Whatever it was, he didn't have to hide it. She could bear it on her shoulders, or help him bear it. They were married. They were supposed to tell each other everything. Even the difficult stuff. That was a lesson they should've learned a thousand times over by then, "What else are you keeping from me?"
"I don't know. You mean besides Darlene?" Michael deflected. He knew it wasn't fair to keep things close to the vest, especially after the conversation they had had the last time they had hidden things from one another. But he seriously didn't want to add to Nikita's stress. Her solo mission to Kosovo proved that she was putting too much responsibility on herself. She believed she had to make everything right, including things that she didn't have to fix. His pain couldn't be added to her struggles. He could at least continue to protect her from that.
"No. You don't get to dodge this one," Nikita pulled out of her husband's arms. If there was something wrong with him, he needed to tell her. She hated that there had been moments where he had been hurt and he hadn't said a single word. She could've helped him deal with his pain. Maybe she could've looked up some physical therapy tips or something to help him. Or maybe just comforted and soothed him. She could've done anything besides leave him alone. Michael didn't have to suffer in silence. It was perfectly okay for him to reach out.
"I hate not being in the field with you. Being on that mission with you last night, that was like old times. I'd like more of those," With a quiet sigh, Michael admitted. He had missed when he had had a non-glitchy prosthetic. He had missed constantly having his wife's back in the field and working with her to fight the bad guys. He simply wanted another chance to kick ass and take names with Nikita. He didn't care if that was a selfish reason for wanting a better prosthetic. They were all fighting for a happily ever after, so why couldn't he fight for that to be a part of it. Why couldn't he finally have everything he wanted.