"Fuck!" Nikita cursed the instant she realized what had happened. She was surprised by the sudden arrival of Division (Percy really was determined to kill them) and had gotten distracted trying to protect herself. By the time she could realize what had happened to Michael, he was already gone. The car with Kasim and her partner was well down the road. She couldn't attack it. Not only did she doubt she'd be successful, but if Michael was still alive, her actions would surely kill him. They had failed. They were fucked.
Yet they weren't alone. Thankfully, Michael and Nikita had another partner they could rely on. Nikita's com had been knocked out of her ear, and she had no idea where it could've landed. Michael's was no doubt still in his ear, yet he was unconscious (hopefully he was only unconscious). However, the two had a radio and extra coms in the car they had driven to the site and hidden in the woods. If she hurried, she could contact Birkhoff for help before it was too late- too late for what, she wouldn't even allow herself to consider, "Birkhoff! Division raided the scene, now Kasim has Michael. He has Michael."
"What? What's going on?" Birkhoff instantly demanded. He hadn't heard from Michael since he had left the safehouse. And, although he gave her the coms, he hadn't heard from Nikita since she had found Michael at the hotel. Birkhoff was completely blind to what was occurring half a world away. He had believed it would've been a successful mission. Michael could've been one step closer to getting justice for his late family. Birkhoff hated that he was wrong.
Nikita fidgeted with Michael's knife in her hand. She had made sure to hang onto it throughout the fight. She couldn't lose it, especially not then. She had to get it back to him. She couldn't believe she was falling for the stupid superstition again. But when she got it back to him, that meant the mission would be over. Michael would be safe and sound, and Kasim would be dead. They needed that good luck charm more than ever.
Clutching the knife tightly in her hand, Nikita fought the negative thoughts clouding her mind. She couldn't grow anxious or pessimistic. Michael needed her to remain as strong as he always believed her to be. Neither she nor Birkhoff could become panicked. They had to think. Studying the road the terrorists escaped on, Nikita thought she had an idea. With Kasim's car destroyed, they took off in the accountant's vehicle. And all of Kasim's accountant's information was back at the hotel. Nikita had access to the car's license plate number. From there, Birkhoff could surely work his magic, "If I give you a plate number you can track the car down, right?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Already hacking into street cameras, Birkhoff huffed. Until Nikita could get him the license plate number, he'd demand to know how exactly the mission got away from them. It was definitely a serious situation if two capable agents got fucked over. Nikita didn't hesitate in telling the hacker everything. She needed to sort through the events herself. She wasn't going to question how Division showed up; that would just give her a headache. The only thing she could focus on was Kasim. Saving Michael from him was one of the few things she could control.
Michael, on the other hand, wasn't in control of anything. From the instant he didn't have a clear shot at Kasim, to gaining consciousness strapped to a table, Michael had no say in how the situation would unfold. He had had such high hopes for the mission. He believed that was finally his chance to kill Kasim and get revenge for what had been taken from him. Why shouldn't it have been his moment. Almost ten years had passed since he lost his whole world. Shouldn't he deserve his revenge. He did everything else for others. Why couldn't he have that.
Division was the simple answer. Although the rogues were actively working to destroy them, the black ops hellhole continued to ruin everything. They ruined the chance to kill Kasim. They ruined innocent people's lives. And they ruined Michael's chance at happiness. He knew all his rage should be focused on Percy. He was the leader of all that bullshit. He was also the person responsible for Hayley's and Elizabeth's deaths. Percy ordered the hit against Michael, and Kasim carried out the act. If Michael hadn't stupidly left the briefcase in his car, he would've been the one to die and not his loved ones.
That meant Michael could only blame Percy for what had occurred. He didn't need to plan a mission to kill Kasim. He should only focus on destroying the black boxes so he could kill the man completely responsible for all his pain. Though, Kasim was a terrorist. He still deserved to die. He also made Michael trust him. He led him to believe he could leave the briefcase in the car and it would be alright. Kasim knew Hayley and Elizabeth would be around Michael. He didn't have to follow his Division orders exactly (Nikita never did). Michael's wife and daughter didn't have to be collateral damage. They could've been safe and free.
Instead, no one was. Michael was strapped to a concrete table in some sort of basement, all too aware that he was going to be tortured. The guards surrounding him with guns didn't even tip him off. Nor did the chains and rusted tools. It was just a feeling deep in his stomach. He knew he was screwed. Yet he was resigned to his fate.
The intense fury he felt as Kasim walked through the door helped him not struggle. Michael was so overcome with rage, he didn't care what would happen to him. He was simply beyond prepared to kill the man who had hurt him so greatly. He didn't care what Kasim wanted to say to him. His motives were nothing; he was still a terrorist who had no problem killing children. Whatever half-ass excuse he had for being a monster, Michael would throw it right back into his face. It was all bullshit.
Except for when Kasim dared to say Hayley's and Elizabeth's names. He had no right talking about them. Just because he had known them, met them, ate dinner with them, didn't mean he was allowed to talk about them. Michael surged in his restraints attempting to reach Kasim. He had to kill the bastard. He had to rip his head off and ensure he could never disrespect Hayley and Elizabeth again, "You don't get to say their names!"
Kasim actually flinched when Michael pushed against his bonds. Michael would've proudly smirked if he wasn't so enraged. And he probably could've used that rage to break his restraints if there weren't guards in the room. They shoved him back on the table and held him down. Michael squirmed, but the force was too great. A towel was placed over his face, then the cold water poured over him.
"See what he knows. Then kill him," Kasim's voice was faint as he ordered. Michael barely registered it as he fought to breathe. He could withhold information despite torture. The Navy and Division taught him that. The waterboarding wouldn't make him say anything to the terrorists. He was only struggling to escape so he could kill Kasim. He wouldn't let it go. The bastard was within grasp. He was so close to his revenge. Although he knew that wouldn't give him the love and happiness he once had, it could be a start. He wouldn't have to feel guilty about living while his wife and daughter couldn't.
Loud crashes outside the basement startled the water bucket out of the terrorists' hands. Michael had one second of reprieve from the torture. He could use that second to try to escape, but he was just so tired. He needed another moment. Thankfully, he was granted that by Nikita. She managed to storm into the room and kick serious ass. He didn't worry about how she found him (Birkhoff probably helped); he just focused on how to break his restraints. Again, his partner helped with that. She held his tortured body gently and tried to pull him out of the room. The last guard had told them where Kasim ran to; they could go, "Hey. Come on. I got you."
When Michael removed himself from her arms to kill the remaining terrorist, she wasn't surprised. Nikita had seen him like that before. On a Division mission years ago, he had been filled to the brim with stoic fury regarding their target. His expression never betrayed him, yet his actions showed how deeply pissed he was. During that operation, Nikita didn't bat an eye at his quiet rage. But in the present, she was worried. Michael wasn't concerned with hiding his emotions. He had let his guilt, pain, and rage control him.
Leading Michael to the car, Nikita wouldn't allow herself to think about that. She had been in the same position once; they deserved moments to let themselves be angry. Yet they couldn't let themselves get killed. The rogue agents had to go. Yet not after Kasim. They had missed their chance. Going after him once more would only get them killed and others hurt. As important as justice and revenge was, it wasn't worth that. At least when it came to Michael's life, Nikita that sentiment was true. She was surprised he agreed with her. He was actually going to call off the mission. He really was so much better than she could ever be.
"Let me drive. I can get us back to the hotel no problem," After a long stretch of silence, Michael suggested. He and Nikita hadn't talked since he had agreed that they needed a new plan to kill Kasim. There wasn't really much else to say. There were a lot of things they had to recuperate from. The two could do so at the hotel- if Nikita knew where it was. She had always been terrible with directions, especially in a new place. Michael, however, was great at getting them wherever they needed to be. She simply didn't believe he was up for it at the moment. He had to smile at her to assure her that he'd be alright soon, "I'm fine. Really."
In hindsight, Nikita shouldn't have listened to Michael. She should've trusted her gut and kept a firm grasp on the steering wheel. But, why shouldn't she be able to trust Michael. He would never betray her. Under normal circumstances, that'd be true. Yet that was about his late wife and daughter. He couldn't ignore that survivor's guilt and rage. He had to set things right. Calling for him on the new com she placed in her ear, she knew it well, "Michael. You can't do this. You go into that airport, and you'll die."
"So will he," Michael was clipped through the com. Nikita wished she could see his facial expression. She wanted to know what was going on inside his head; though, honestly, she didn't have to think hard. She was very familiar with the kind of rage that had taken over him. When happiness was robbed so violently, the only response was to kill the person responsible. Neither the danger nor situation were important. That could be ignored for vengeance.
"But it's suicide. You can't do this. You think you have nothing to live for? What about destroying Division? What about killing Percy? What about Birkhoff and me? You have things to live for. The world needs you. Trust me," She was scrambling. Nikita wasn't nearly as good at talking about emotions and being a comforting hand like Michael was. But what if she threw his own words back at him. He wasn't right when he said the world needed her. However, Nikita knew for certain that the world needed Michael. He was supposed to save it and keep it safe, like he had done with her, Birkhoff, and so many others. He couldn't die. She couldn't let him.
"Why should I?" Michael's voice was flat. It wasn't smoky or light; it was gruff and harsh. He wasn't asking for a real reason to trust Nikita. Either he knew he could, or he knew she would turn on him. She didn't know which was worse. It was as though no matter what she said, he was going to get himself killed. It was his only way to survive the pain.
"You didn't let me kill myself. So what makes you think I'll let you?" Nikita removed all panic from her voice. She was absolutely serious and determined. Michael never gave up on her. While she fought and screamed and tried to end her suffering, he remained by her side as stubborn as ever. He forced her to know he cared about her. He never let her die no matter what. Of course she'd return the favor. Nikita would make Michael live and see that he still had loved ones. The world wasn't all pain, grief, and sorrow. The rogues still had one another.
Whereas Michael ignored her and dumped his com, Nikita kept hers pressed in her ear. She had told Birkhoff to wait for them when she had raided the terrorists' hideout. She thought she'd only need to contact him for a ride home. But if she had ever learned anything in her life, it was that she never received what she wished, "Birkhoff! Michael's making a suicide run at the airport. You have to help me stop him and get him home."
"What's your plan?" Birkhoff didn't hesitate to ask. He wasn't surprised by the dramatic twist in events. He was surprised that Michael was insane while Nikita was rational. Except, it was Michael's family they were dealing with. He was always irrational when it came to them. Fortunately, Nikita had a way to help. Using the guards at the airport, she and Birkhoff could save him and get him home. Once at the safehouse, he could heal and find another way to kill Kasim (he could also find a way to kill Percy). It wasn't as hopeless as he believed. They simply needed a moment to bounce back. Kasim would die. And he could live for his family.
While Nikita and Birkhoff scrambled to stop Michael and have the guards deposit him on a private jet back to the States, Michael was already on the tarmac. He had found Kasim. He had broken a glass bottle and held a shard in his hand, and he had stalked the killer through the gate. Just a few more steps and the shiv would be between Kasim's ribs without anyone knowing. He wouldn't have a clear way to escape after, yet who cared. He finally had what he wanted.
Until the guards grabbed him. Airport security dragged him away from Kasim and his last chance at vengeance. Michael kicked and fought. But after the torture, he was just too weak. It was over. Despite how long he had waited, how much he had planned, how hard he had fought, Michael kept failing to do right by his wife and daughter. He always failed Hayley and Elizabeth, and he had no one to blame but himself.
As he looked out into the crowd, however, Michael realized there was someone else he could blame. She was directing security and glancing over at him with sorrowful brown eyes. Nikita was the reason he had failed. She took everything from him, just like Kasim and Percy.
There was a look in Michael's eyes that Nikita had never seen before. Well, she had never seen it reflected in his evergreen eyes before. She saw that look glaring at her every morning in the bathroom mirror. It was rage and anger and bitter fucking hatred. Her brown eyes told her how much she despised herself whenever she looked in the mirror. However, Michael's eyes never expressed such acid. He always looked at her with kindness and joyful adoration. Except at that moment. As security dragged him away, he looked like he wanted to kill her. A part of her did die upon seeing the expression. It broke her heart.