She had forgotten how good it felt- the instant relief that flowed through her veins and numbed her thoughts. For the first time in a long time, her lips lifted in a smile. Maybe it wasn't a real smile, but it was good enough. Her eyes could slip closed, and she could drift off without her thoughts. Finally, nothing was screaming at her too loud to be silenced. The anxiety and guilt rotting her stomach was replaced by artificial bliss. She knew it wouldn't last long, yet how could she care when she felt so great. Freedom felt as though it was coursing through her veins. She was free for one infinitesimal moment.
Gunshots had rang in her ears for a week. Nikita kept hearing the panic and the screams and the chaos that had echoed off the walls. She had been so fucking stupid. It was all her fault. If she had thought, if she had planned, if she had just been smart for once in her goddamn life, none of that would've happened. Everything that had gone wrong wouldn't have happened. Nikita was to blame for everything that occurred to Alexandra after that night at the Udinov estate. She couldn't deny it. She had thought she had saved the girl, given her some kind of life. Instead, she prolonged her death sentence.
Alex was gone, trapped inside Division because of Nikita's choices. The teenager was dragged off by Amanda while the new rogue did everything she could to save them both. It was a long shot no matter what she did, however. The fact that she had managed to escape had been a miracle. She hadn't left Division completely unscathed. A bullet had been lodged deeply into her shoulder. At least she was able to slam Kelly's head into the wall and shoot some guards. That gave her enough cover to scurry through the air vents, grit her way up the silo, and run for her life. Except, who cared about that when Alex was lost. She was dragged into hell and kept there.
Nikita didn't know if Amanda had dragged Alex off to kill her immediately, to torture the both of them as they died by Division's hands, or to do something else equally horrific and unimaginable. She didn't want to put any thought into any possibility. Nikita could only focus on her own survival. Maybe if she made it out alive, Alex could too. She could go back for the girl; rescue her one last time. The bullet in the new rogue's shoulder said otherwise, though. There was no point in returning to Division. She and the teen would die instantly- if the girl wasn't dead already. She had lost so much. She had been such a goddamn idiot.
For a week, that was all Nikita could think about. She caused death everywhere she went. She couldn't escape that even if she ran from Division. The bodycount she had left behind expressed how monstrous she was. No one was safe from her; everyone was dead. She would be dead next once Division caught up to her. Although she removed her tracker and dropped entirely off the grid, she knew at any moment she would be next to die. Nikita hoped for it. It was what she deserved. No one who had caused the same amount of pain she had should be allowed to live. Maybe the state of New Jersey was right in issuing her the death penalty.
Attempting to be righteous and moral had gotten her nowhere. Alexandra was dead anyway. Michael and Birkhoff were suffering regardless. Look at what Nikita had done. So what if being a monster allowed her to destroy Brandt and so many other terrible people. That had only made her despicable in return. Innocents were in agony. She hurt them far worse than Division ever could. She hadn't been their star and head of agents because she saved the country. She had destroyed it just as Percy wanted. God, Michael would love that she began to think like him. Percy was a villain, and she had been his ultimate weapon.
Though, not everything could be blamed on Percy and Amanda. Nikita was equally villainous. She could've said no. She had fought back by not killing Ari Tasorov in front of his son. She had fought back by not killing Alexandra Udinov that night. She had fought back by being in a relationship with Daniel Monroe. She could've made a bigger impact. There were many chances she could've just bolted; she knew how. Yet she chose to stay. Nikita chose to be Michael's and Birkhoff's enemy, Amanda's pet, and Alex's killer. She was just as awful as the people she had murdered in the service of Division.
Her thoughts needed to fucking shut up. Nikita had been stuck with them for a week. She attempted to survive on the run, stealing money and supplies whenever she could. She had to forge a new ID, and stay so below the radar that Division couldn't even dream of picking her up. Without Birkhoff in charge of the tech, that was fairly easy. She used the black ops group's training against them. Wasn't that a great 'fuck you'. Except, it wasn't enough- it wasn't enough for her sanity. She was running without rest and it was driving her insane.
The Ketamine was just to make it all stop. After a week of screaming hell inside her mind, she needed to relax. Nikita couldn't survive on her own if she was thinking about the death she deserved every two seconds. Ketamine had been her way to silence the demons before. She hadn't learned any other way to kill them. Besides, finding and robbing a dealer had been easy. She had enough to keep her going until she found a better solution. It was only to settle her nerves. Once that was over, she'd be fine.
However, the second she had a taste for the numbing mindless elixir again, she never wanted to go back to her pain. The Ketamine made her smile; it made her laugh and feel so fucking good. Who the fuck cared about Division or the hell she had caused. Nikita had escaped, and she could melt away into bliss. She didn't have to be a part of the harmful world anymore. She could drift along from one point to the next like she used to. That had worked so wonderfully for a couple years in her childhood; she had forgotten all about Gary in that time. What was so awful about doing it again. Maybe she could forget more- slip into oblivion more.
In hindsight, Alex should've escaped with Nikita. She should've kept running and never looked back. She had just been overwhelmed by fear, doubt, and a hope that she could return home. That was such a stupid thing to cling to. After five years, there was no chance of her ever returning home. The estate, her family, it was all gone. Everything burned to the ground that night, except for her. Alex should've just accepted the fact and moved on. She couldn't go back; she couldn't be happy again. She simply had to carve out some sort of life from the shit she had been given and pray for the best she could manage.
Stuck inside the walls of Division, Alex doubted any of that could happen. She was going to be trained as a killer. Was that the kind of life her parents wanted from her. She was going to kill for a foreign government, her autonomy and identity completely erased. And once the hired gun was done with her, they'd kill her. She saw it happen to Nikita. The woman dared to defy them, and she was murdered for her efforts. Nikita was murdered for Alex, and she had just let it happen. She should've followed the woman. They should've saved each other.
Why wouldn't she move when Nikita wanted her to. If she had, could they have both survived and been free of their pasts. Alex doubted it. Division was formidable. They killed her entire family and their head agent. They were going to kill her next. Except, the blow never came. She waited hours, but nothing happened. She just sat in a plainly yet elegantly decorated office while Amanda dealt with the fallout of the situation. Alex wasn't told anything, and nothing was done to her. Only a guard watched her as she sat stiffly on a sofa. It was as though she was in limbo, awaiting certain death.
Anxiety clawed at her throat and rocked her stomach. Waiting for death was so much worse than facing it. Alex had always hoped that when she died it'd be peaceful. She'd get too high and simply drift off in her sleep, her body not able to handle the amount of heroin. She didn't want to die in a rage of bullets and fire like her parents. The panic and screams echoed in her ears whenever she closed her eyes. She didn't want to go out like that. She'd rather live her shitty life than experience that hell.
Fortunately- or unfortunately, Alex hadn't decided yet- none of that rained down on her. Amanda returned to her office calmly. She smiled at the young woman, a sickly sweetness washing over her. Alex couldn't help but be somewhat drawn in. Maybe she could blame the whirlwind of a day- month- she had been forced to endure. She hadn't been able to relax since she was thrown in jail. But Amanda's smile seemed nice enough for her to melt into. She could forget for a moment. She could allow herself to breathe. There was a reason she had hesitated in following Nikita's orders. Amanda had offered home.
Actually, she continued to offer home; her sales pitch simply shifted since she knew who Alex truly was. Yes, Division had killed her family. But they were only a weapon hired by an enemy of her father's (Nikita had said the same thing). Division and the group that ran it had made a deal with Sergei Semak, her father's best friend and right hand man, in exchange for power and control (Nikita hadn't said that). Semak backed out of the deal, however, leaving the black ops group in the lurch. Percy and Amanda and their bosses wanted their revenge. And Alexandra could be their way to achieve that.
Staring blankly at Amanda, Alex had no idea what to say. She didn't even know what to think. Why couldn't things be simple again. What was with all the conspiracies and vies for power. Couldn't she be involved in something normal. Though, revenge did sound nice. How dare Semak turn on her father. Papa had given him so much; he had loved him. And what did Semak do to repay his gratitude, he killed everyone and stole Zetrov. Alex wanted to kill him. She thought her Uncle Sergei had been as much of a victim as she had been. Yet he had caused her all her pain. He destroyed everything.
So he had to be destroyed in return. Amanda's smile appeared to turn sincere as lividity washed over Alex. She said that it was good for her to feel angry. The anger meant she was still human- that Semak hadn't stolen too much from her. In fact, Alexandra could steal it all back. She could attack Semak like he had attacked her, and everything would be hers again. She could get revenge for her pain, and the anger in her veins would be replaced with happiness and satisfaction. Amanda could promise her that much. Revenge would feel oh so sweet.
And, most importantly, Division could help Alex reach her goal. Their training, resources, and information could make her indomitable. Nothing could stop her with the might of the black ops group behind her. Amanda's grin turned too sugary again at the offer; however, the young woman was already swayed. She couldn't deny how angry she was. She had been so angry since that night. That was her chance to finally express it. There was something constructive that she could do. She could take hold of her life and fight like her father had wanted. Her enemies would pay for all they had done to her.
It was a terrible idea, though. Alex shouldn't fall for it. There had to be a catch. Division wouldn't just train her to kill Semak then let her go once it was done. They had to want something in return. Maybe it was the power and control they had wanted from Semak. However, she wouldn't listen to her own thoughts. All the pain she had experienced could go away- and without the use of drugs. She'd kill the man responsible for her ruined life, and it would be okay again. Alex's world would be set right. Amanda extended her hand out to the young woman, and she took it. Without hesitation, she agreed to be an agent of vengeance.
Birkhoff continued to nurse his hand. He wanted to push through the pain and suck it up, yet the damage was too great. He had to continue to suffer. Michael did his best to help, even setting up a speech to text software for the hacker. However, he was suffering just as badly. It wasn't his injured shoulder, though. He couldn't get Nikita out of his head. The look she had given him haunted his nightmares. She wasn't his Nikita- not that she ever was his. The young agent he had left in Division wasn't the same one he faced against. She had been molded into something else. She had been destroyed.
What had Michael done. Going rogue hadn't done as much damage against Division as he had thought. He and Birkhoff had only ruined missions here and there and saved potential targets. The black ops group was still operating at full strength. The two had to do something to change up their game. They had to find a real weakness in Division and exploit it. All they could come up with were Percy's black boxes. Yet, they had no idea how to begin finding and using those. It was becoming hopeless. They couldn't give up, but there was nothing for them to do besides wait for divine inspiration.
Michael spent months working on just that. While he and Birkhoff healed their wounds, they gathered as much information and resources as they could. It wasn't a lot. They were drowning in nothingness. Whereas Birkhoff was slowly accepting their reality, letting it drift him towards giving up the crusade, Michael held firm. He couldn't give up. There were innocents to save, and he couldn't let them down. There had to be a way for them to triumph. The underdogs always won in movies, so why couldn't they in their war. Victory had to be possible.
After a few months, Michael thought he was onto something. He potentially found a way for him and Birkhoff to attack Division efficiently. He just needed the supplies- and intel. Information would be difficult to obtain, yet equipment he could buy in the city near their latest safehouse. Wandering the streets, Michael ran through different thoughts and ideas that rested heavily on his mind. He couldn't rest when there was so much for him to consider and plan for. He could never relax until his job was done. However, Michael could be distracted. Noises from a dark alley pulled at his attention. Cautiously, he glanced over.
A junkie appeared to be soliciting a dealer for drugs with sex. The dealer, however, was more interested in taking what he wanted and leaving the junkie with nothing. Michael wanted to step in and help the junkie. She appeared to be hurting; she needed somebody to intervene. Surprisingly, though, she didn't need anyone to help her. As the dealer lunged at her, she knocked him unconscious with a single move- a Division move. Michael rushed over, abandoning his belongings in the street. That was his chance. He could use the agent for information. Except, as he drew closer, he nearly dropped to the ground in shock.
He hadn't expected the junkie to be her. Although she was too high to recognize him, Nikita glared at Michael like he was a threat. The world seemed to freeze before it shattered.