"Do you have intel on the black boxes or not?" Nikita instantly responded once Michael had called. He had started the call attempting to tell her about an undetected flight he aimed to catch, but she didn't care. It didn't matter how he reached her, just that he did with the information she wanted. They could make their transaction, then part ways. That was what he wanted anyway, right. The way he had been treating her lately proved that once Kasim was dead, they were done. He had burned too many bridges and trust between them. He would go his own path in their war, and she would go hers.
"Yes. But you're not getting anything until we meet face-to-face," After a moment of hesitation, Michael answered. Nikita didn't like the pause. She had a feeling that he was lying to her. So what if he was, though. She had asked the impossible from him and had kept the man he wanted to kill most from him. Of course he'd lie to her to get what he wanted. He had already done worse to her. She didn't matter in his quest for vengeance. She believed she had, yet his pain was too selfish and too demanding. Even her silence over the phone was enough to make him snap at her, "Nikita?"
"I'm at the abandoned Division safehouse in St. Petersburg. You know the one," Briskly, Nikita informed Michael. They had never been in the safehouse together, but they had both used it on separate occasions- a lot of agents had. Usually, when a Division agent had passed through St. Petersburg, they would stop by the safehouse to rest and refuel. But after Gogol's presence in the area increased, a more secluded and (for lack of a better word) safer safehouse was used. Nikita and Kasim could stay hidden until Michael reached them. Then everything would be over.
"Give me twelve hours," Michael demanded more than requested. Then he ended the call. Nikita sighed. Twelve hours gave her plenty of time to set up security cameras in and out of the safehouse. She could watch for any surprises from Gogol, Division, Al-Qaeda, and Michael- her enemies just kept growing. The hours also gave her time to ensure Kasim stayed tied up and out of trouble. She didn't have to worry about him for a while. He could be completely ignored until Michael arrived. And, most importantly, the long hours gave her plenty of time to think.
She didn't like what she had to think about, however. Nikita couldn't stop thinking about Michael and the relationship that had been burned between them. Sometimes, she thought about how the change in their dynamic would affect Birkhoff, Ryan, and Owen. And she thought about Alex's revenge mission, praying that the young woman never became as lost to it as Michael had his. Mostly, though, she thought of Michael- and her thoughts were horrid things. She couldn't help but be distracted by them. So much so, that she nearly missed Kasim messing with her laptop, "Hands up. You think I'd be stupid enough to leave you with unlocked computer access?"
"You hit my convoy all by yourself. But you let the cargo burn. Why?" Raising his handcuffed hands, Kasim backed away from Nikita's laptop. The gun she had quickly aimed at him was a huge motivator for his actions; however, it wouldn't force him to be quiet. He had been held captive for nearly twelve hours. He at least deserved an answer as to why. Especially since she hadn't done anything to him since she had tied him up and tossed him in a room. It was as though she was saving the pain and agony for when it'd destroy him the most.
"This isn't about money," Nikita muttered. She'd tell Kasim whatever she needed to to shut him up, yet he definitely didn't deserve to know what was about to happen to him. Her attention had shifted away from him again, anyway. He was unarmed and handcuffed while she had the upperhand. She didn't need to worry about him currently. What she did have to be concerned with was what he did on her computer. She had left her laptop locked and secured when she had left the room. So he shouldn't have been able to do anything on it. Yet she still had to make sure. She had had enough surprises recently.
"So then it's personal," Regardless of the gun kept in her grip, ready to strike him at any moment, Kasim continued to talk. He was certain he could survive the situation. He had a fairly solid handle on who he was dealing with. After all, if she had wanted to kill him, he'd be dead already. He would live for another few moments, just long enough to taunt her and get her off her game. If she remained distracted, she'd let down her guard and she wouldn't notice the attack coming, "Vengeance can sometimes be justified, Nikita."
"Did Percy warn you about me?" Nikita smirked, causing Kasim's smugness to crumble. He couldn't crawl under her skin. She was already onto his big secret. There was nothing he could do to weasel out of that situation. Finally. For too long, he had been allowed to destroy so many families. First, it was in the name of Division. Then, it was for Al-Qaeda. But that all ended then. Michael would soon be there to kill him. Kasim's life was over. He had finally encountered someone who knew as much as he did, "I know exactly who you are."
"Then you know I have other means of escape," Kasim's smugness returned as he glanced at Nikita's computer screen. She followed his gaze and watched in horror as the cameras captured terrorist approaching with assault rifles. Shit. Although her computer was locked, Kasim knew how to hack her. He had been trained by Division too, after all. She might've had a Birkhoff to teach her the tricks, but the terrorist still knew enough to send out a message on a secure line. While she had been distracted, he had called in the cavalry. She was fucked.
Trapped in the house, Nikita didn't have a secure enough stance to fight against the assault. The best she could do was drag Kasim to a secluded area and try to pick off the terrorist one by one as they came crashing in. she doubted that'd hold her for long. But short of a miracle, she had nothing else to save her. She just had to fight with all she had and pray that she somehow survived. If Kasim died in the process, she didn't care. It'd be better if Michael killed him. But, again, Nikita didn't have any other option. She had been so worked up, she had missed the obvious. And it was about to bite her in the ass.
Fortunately, Nikita wasn't fighting by herself for long. Michael arrived just in time to take out the many assailants and join her in the room. She was so relieved to see him, she almost forgot about their fight. He almost seemed to as well as he glanced at her. He noticed a bruise on her cheek. He didn't know if it came from Gogol, or Al-Qaeda, or both. No matter what, she had been through hell and back leading up to that moment. She had done everything to give him that chance. Michael didn't hesitate to take it. He didn't wait for Kasim to say anything while he crossed to him. He simply pulled the trigger and killed him.
From across the room, Nikita could see the fire leave Michael's green eyes. He had been so full of vengeance, that the second it had been fulfilled, he was left with nothing. He had killed the man who had murdered his wife and daughter. He took the life of the man who had taken everything from him. He completed his mission, and he had nothing left. After all, the man who had ordered the hit was still alive and in power. It wasn't true vengeance. It was mostly an expression of powerful anger. With that gone, there was no other emotion to be felt.
Dropping his smoking weapon, Michael left the room. He needed to think. He needed to be outside in the cold, sharp, bitter Russian air to breathe. The smell of gunpowder, blood, and death was too much. His mind had to adjust to the shift in directions. His mission was over- at least, the Kasim part of it. As Michael hurried away, Nikita gave him his space. She could focus on cleaning the scene of their presence and creating a story for the authorities to find instead. That'd give both of them time to think.
Michael was standing in the bitter cold snow, blankly staring at the forest ahead, when Nikita joined him. Neither said anything for a while. They just stood in hollow silence. Then, unprompted and seemingly out of nowhere, Michael spoke, "I bought them a house. Elizabeth and Hayley. One night, Lizzie and I just started flipping through a housing catalog. Lizzie saw this house in Hawaii, and her eyes just lit up. So I tore out the page, and without telling her, I started saving up. Before you knew it, I had enough money for the down payment. When I called the realtor and he said the place was still available, I nearly jumped out of my chair."
A small smile pulled at Nikita's lips at the memory Michael was willing to share with her. A ghost of a smile was on his lips as well. Yet neither of that stopped him from continuing his story. It needed to tumble out of him- be expressed. And, no matter the circumstance, Michael always found it easiest to express everything to Nikita, "My plan was to fly them there for vacation and tell them that that house was a rental. And I know on the last day of vacation, Hayley would just look up at me and tell me 'it's time to go home'. But I'd look back down at her, and I'd tell her 'we are home'."
Staring down at the empty snow, Michael fought the tears the memory brought. It should've been a brilliantly happy moment for his family. They should've been able to live in bliss. But because Percy was a self-serving bastard, Michael lost all that. He had lost his life, and as a result, he became gutted and rotted. He was a shell of who he used to be- an ass instead of a man. And that was all Percy's fault, "Percy took that away from me. He made me into this. I'm gonna go into his office, and I'm gonna shoot him."
"If Percy goes down, this country will never recover. Do you remember telling me that?" Softly, Nikita asked. One of the first things she had wanted to do when she had gone rogue (after Michael had helped get her clean) was to kill Percy. She wanted him dead for all the things he had done to her, Michael, Birkhoff, the recruits, the agents, and the victims. She wanted Division to burn and all those incharge to be locked inside. Yet Michael had stopped her. He told her about the black boxes and warned her what would happen if those contents were released. The world couldn't fall for Percy's sins. Only he deserved to be punished.
"I don't care," Michael's gaze remained locked on the snowy ground in front of him. A part of him had known that killing Kasim wouldn't bring him catharsis. Yes, he was a terrorist who needed to die. And yes, he had betrayed Michael and his family. But he had only been the weapon. Percy had sent him to complete a job, and when he had failed, the bastard manipulated the target into chasing a ghost. It was all Percy's fault. He was the true monster that needed to be slain. Kasim was simply the easier access, a direct root for Michael's pain. But his death didn't mean anything, not while Percy still breathed.
"I don't believe you. Because you're stronger than that. You're the strongest person I've ever met. You do the things that other people won't do. You sacrifice and you dedicate your life to people you know are innocent. I don't think you're capable of not caring," Trying to gain Michael's attention, Nikita expressed the wonderful things she had always thought about him. From when he was a handler, to when he went rogue, Michael had always cared. He fought for people when no one else would. He fought to give others a better life. He never gave up, even when he was against the impossible. None of that could change then.
"We will find the rest of the black boxes, and then we will kill Percy. And he will not be able to do this to anyone ever again," Nikita hoped her determination would rub off on Michael. He could be bolstered to continue to fight. And by extension, so would she. They had managed to finally kill Kasim. Percy could be next on their list. All they had to take care of was the black boxes. With Birkhoff, Owen, Ryan, and Alex on their side, that shouldn't be too difficult. The team of rogues could end their war- as long as they stayed a team.
Fists clenching, Michael wanted to punch himself. The sharp Russian cold had helped clear the vengeance from his eyes. He had been so blind to everything except Kasim, and that had gotten Nikita hurt. Hell, it had almost gotten her killed numerous times. He had put revenge above his friend's life (more than a friend, if he was being honest) when he didn't have to. She almost died for nothing. He had put her in unnecessary danger. If they had worked together, they would've still wound up where they were; they just would've been on solid ground, "I lied to you. I didn't get the locations. I was coming here to doublecross you."
"Well… you didn't," That was the best Nikita could say. She had known that was coming. She knew the time between her laying out the ultimatum and him calling her with the information was too short, even with his determination. Ever since she had told him the deal, he had always planned to trick her. And she had always known in the back of her mind that he would do it. That didn't mean that when the time finally came, the deception didn't sting any less. She had thought he'd be different. She had thought he'd never disappoint her or hurt her. She had never hated being wrong as much as she did then.
He just stood there as she left. That should've been the moment that he chased after her and apologized. That should've been the moment he made up for all his mistakes and the two created a game plan to end their war. They'd find the black boxes together. They'd kill Percy and burn Division together. It was what they had been trying to do. The two should continue that. Instead, Michael watched Nikita walk away. He didn't make a move to follow, nor did he say anything. Michael just let Nikita disappear, knowing she intended to go far, far away.
The violent snap of the cold forced Michael out of his head. He had been increasingly stupid the past few days. Yet that moment took the cake. He needed to follow Nikita; he had to follow her to the ends of the Earth. There was nothing holding him back. He had created the distance between them, believing it would protect their hearts from further damage. God, he had been so wrong. He had been so wrong about so much. How could he have believed that she'd hurt her too. Nikita had proven time and time again that she was there to fight for him. They were partners- they were more. After everything else he had lost, he couldn't lose her too.
It was too late to chase her down in Russia, but Michael could catch up to Nikita in New York. He knew she wouldn't bother going to the safehouse. She'd want to be alone and to continue keeping Birkhoff out of their mess. So he ran straight to the loft. The whole flight to her, he rehearsed what he should say. He practiced apologies and finding the right ways to express his feelings. They all fizzled out on his tongue when he saw her standing stiffly by her computer. He couldn't think around her. He couldn't say everything he needed to while she looked at him with those big, sad, brown eyes. He just did the best he could, "You were right."
"No…" Nikita tried to argue. The long flight back home had given her plenty of time to think. What Michael had done was wrong; his anguished, regretful expression indicated that even he believed it. Yet Nikita understood why he had done it. She had once hurt him because of how much pain she was in. It was easier to lash out at those nearby instead of accepting help. There were too many intense emotions to keep bottled up just so you could move on. It had to be expressed. She couldn't fault him for his pain. At least, she could try not to.
"Yeah, you were right. If I had just listened to you, things could have been different," Michael dared to move closer to Nikita. She didn't back away from him, which he took as a good sign. However, she didn't move closer to him either. He had to be the one to rebuild the bridge. He had ruined their relationship, so he had to be the one to fix that. Michael was so painfully aware of that, and he was willing to do anything to repair the damage he had done to Nikita. She didn't deserve to feel his pain. She had done everything she could to help him. And he had been an ass. He had to make it up to her, atone for all his sins.
"Things will be different," Nikita's gaze sorrowfully swept over a regretful Michael. He had meant to betray her; she understood why. The need for revenge was so strong, it was palpable. But he didn't trust her. After everything they had gone through together, Michael didn't trust her. He didn't trust her to help him catch his family's murderer, and he didn't trust her to keep a promise. Nikita didn't think her heart could take it anymore. For months- years- it was as though they were in some kind of holding pattern. Neither could near the other without hurting them. So, there they were. Two broken people without anything solid like trust between them.
Unable to look at him any longer, Nikita turned away. She didn't walk away, though. She was going to leave that up to him. Michael was free to walk out of her life and never come back. It would be a gift to her heart if he did. However, he hadn't given up like she had. He surprised her. His warm, steady hand came to gently touch her cheek. She spun into his hold and he kissed her. Michael kissed Nikita. Her hands instantly went to his shoulders, reaching to splay at the nape of his neck. His own hands cradled her head, his thumb caressing her bruised cheek. Their lips were met in a slow dance. It was gentle, almost tentative in touch.
Nikita tore from him. Her brown eyes searched his green. She needed to know if that was real- if what had happened was not a crazed figment of her imagination. Michael answered with a nudge of his nose against hers and another tender kiss. She wasn't sure who deepened it first, but their kiss soon became passionate. Her hands continued to roam his strong shoulders and neck, intertwining with his short, dark hair. His hands moved sensually down to her thighs. With a silent command for her to jump, he hoisted her up in his secure arms and carried her to bed.