Staring at a photograph of Anton Kochenko, Alex was lost in thought. She remembered her last conversation with the thug and how predatory and threatening he had been to her. If she had known then what she did then, she would've snapped that creep's neck. She couldn't wait until she had the chance to kill him. And she was going to ensure he knew it was her who did it. He had knowingly led to her father's death, and he was going to know it was her that led to his. She had the perfect plan to end his life. Or so she had thought. Other people had different opinions, "That's your plan?"
"Excuse me?" Alex snapped out of her thoughts and turned to face Sean Pierce hovering over her shoulder. She had already been annoyed by someone interrupting her. Yet seeing Sean so close to her, scrutinizing her assassination plans, just pissed her off even more. If she wasn't trying to prove something, she'd have punched him in the face and stormed off. But she refused to let him see her crack or have even more of a reason to think he was better than her. He undoubtedly wasn't. But, for some reason, he continued to think so.
"Close quarters hit in the basement before he gets onstage? It's suicide. Kochenko's men all used to work for Gogol. They're former Spetsnaz. You don't want to get into a knife fight with a Russian," Sean pointed out the flaws in Alex's plans. Each one he listed made her more and more angry. He wasn't her boss. They weren't partners. They weren't even coworkers. She didn't have to listen to a single thing he said. They weren't sound criticisms anyway. He didn't know everything she was capable of, and he never would.
"I am Russian," Alex seethed. For some reason, that was a fact most people forgot. Although she was living and working in the States, she was not American. She didn't think she ever would be. She had been sent to the country and forced to kill for the government all against her will. She could never be a part of that. She was Russian-born, and Russian she would remain. Which meant she could handle herself perfectly against other Russians. With her upbringing and training, Gogol would be nothing to her- just more men standing in the way of what she wanted.
"Yes, you are," The barest of smiles twitched at the corners of Sean's full lips. Alex was confused at the sight. For half a second, she believed that he was trying to joke with her. It almost seemed like he was trying to insinuate that he would never get into a knife fight with her because he knew that she would kick his ass. But that couldn't have been the true intentions behind his words. Sean Pierce would never think that she was better than him. Alex had to consistently prove that to him, yet even that wasn't enough at times.
Doing her best to ignore Sean's ghost of a smile (why was it so hard to get that image out of her head) Alex moved the conversation back to his problem with her. The impressive plan that she had spent so much time curating apparently wasn't enough for him. He believed she was going to fail and get herself killed. But that was farthest from the truth. Kochenko wasn't going to survive past the press conference. Alex was going to kill him before Semak could gain even more power he didn't deserve, "You don't think I can do it? This man held the back door open for the strike team that carried out the hit on my family. Trust me, I'm not going to choke."
"That's the point. I don't trust you. You know better than to try the job like this. The reason you want it this close is because you are emotionally involved. You would be the last person I would pick to do this job. But now that you have it, at least do it right," Sean was brutally honest with Alex. Oversight should not have given her the assignment. Although she agreed that she shouldn't be doing anything Oversight said, she had to perform the assassination. No one else could kill Kochenko but her. He had helped Division kill her father, so she had to kill him. It was how she could finally start getting justice.
"And how would I do it right?" Glaring at the Navy Seal, Alex really didn't want to hear Sean Pierce's advice. He couldn't say those things to her then expect her to listen. If anything, she should prove his statement about knife fights and Russians correct. Then again, that was probably what he was expecting from her. He knew she'd try to fight him- why else his confirmation of her nationality. Alex couldn't wrap her head around that man. She wanted to punch him so badly, yet she never did. She couldn't actually make those thoughts a reality.
"Sniper rifle, up here. I've seen your ratings; you can make that shot in your sleep. And the extra distance from the target helps you with your emotional distance," Sean pointed to an area on one of her various printed maps where she could make her assassination. Alex considered it for a moment. He made a great point. She could easily snipe Kochenko from the building across from the press conference. However, she wasn't going to easily take his compliment or advice. Since he had spent so much time railing against her and her plan, she was going to return the favor with the first snarky comment that came to mind.
"Is that your expertise? Emotional distance?" Alex shot back with a smug smile. Seeing the storm brewing in Sean's hazel eyes, however, made her instantly drop the proud smirk. That wasn't fair of her. He had told her about the partner he had lost, and she had thrown it back in his face. She needed to say something to make it right. She needed to apologize. Unfortunately, before she could, Sean Pierce turned and walked away from her. She was left alone in her seat, feeling like a jackass and no better than the people who had given her the kill order.
Once the rogues had Ramon's location, they didn't waste time gearing up and traveling out. Michael and Nikita were in Monte de Concepción as soon as they could and hiking through the forest through the Division safehouse. Birkhoff, on the other hand, stayed where he was, watching over everything from his computer, "Buenos días, muchachos. Welcome to Colombia: land of lush forests, spectacular waterfalls, and wily little Division assassins. Wish I was there to share the view with you, but mine is quite stellar, thanks to our friends in U.S. Southern Command. I hacked their satellite, straight up."
All Michael and Nikita could manage in response was a roll of their eyes. They were too busy trekking up hills and around trees and waterfalls to manage a quip. Birkhoff was perfectly alright with that, however. It meant he could stay in control of the conversation and brag and express his vast skills and knowledge as much as he wanted, "Now this place is a Division facility, so hacking security is not impossible, but it is tricky. It's safer if you go native and tap into the grid on the ground."
"Copy that," Michael huffed as he and Nikita climbed up the latest hill. The two had been holding hands as they hiked, ensuring they didn't get separated amongst the trees. But they had to let go as they struggled up the hill. Hearing their pants, Birkhoff cut the feed to their new coms (tech they were lucky to acquire so they wouldn't lose each other in a different country). That left Michael and Nikita alone with their thoughts. They should've spent that time thinking about how they were going to capture Ramon. Instead, Michael took the moment alone to confront Nikita, "You know, you've been full-throttle on this thing ever since we left."
"Yeah. So?" Nikita glanced at Michael warily, wondering why he was bringing that up then. She had more or less ignored him on the jet to Colombia. She hadn't meant to. He was trying to make up for kissing the Division agent, yet she was lost in thought. The closer they got to Monte de Concepción, the more she thought about Ramon. She still couldn't understand how he was working for Division. The man she had met would never sell his soul to those demons. He had been so much stronger than that- he had been stronger than her.
"I want to know what happened to him that night, after you caught him," Michael moved closer to Nikita as he asked. He didn't hold the fact that she had been too distracted to talk to him on the plane against her. Ever since she had discovered that Ramon was working for Division, she had been lost in her head. She made a few comments about her mission to capture him. But most of the information- specifically her thought process- remained locked away. Michael needed to get Nikita to open up about it. She couldn't stay inside her head. She was only going to drown in those thoughts and emotions. She needed to let them go and let him in.
For a moment, Nikita didn't say anything. Her mission to kill Ramon had occurred in her early days in Division when her courage, self-esteem, and sense of self were at an all time low. It honestly didn't become that much better while she was trapped in the hellhole and being constantly controlled by Percy and Amanda. However, there had been times when she was aware of who she was and who she could be. Saving Ramon, Alexandra Udinov, and Ari Tasarov were definitely those moments. And it had been brought about by Ramon's words- words she didn't think she could repeat while she was hunting him down. So, instead, she deflected, "I told you."
"Why didn't you kill him?" Michael pressed. He knew why Nikita hadn't killed Alexandra Udinov and Ari Tasarov: she couldn't kill a child, and she couldn't kill a father in front of his child (killing Nikolai Udinov how she had continued to haunt her). Yet Ramon was neither an innocent nor near any innocents. So why spare him. What she had said about learning from him didn't seem like the full answer. She was hiding something. Michael didn't suspect that it was anything bad. But it definitely upset Nikita.
Sighing, Nikita attempted to think of the right thing to say. She honestly didn't know how to express her thoughts about Ramon to Michael. Something about what the anarchist said about corrupt governments and following your own moral compass had really struck her. She had been struck with a feeling she had never been able to articulate, but she had desperately clung to it. Especially during the rough times. What he had said on that rooftop in Paris had been so true, so powerful. It had changed her. Unfortunately, so had he, "He was real, Michael. And I believed him. I can't understand why a man like that would be working with Division."
"Well, if there's anything that Percy knows how to do, it's how to buy a man's soul. He owned mine for five years," Bitterly, Michael reminded. He had been tricked into working for Percy for far longer than he should've. He was fortunate to have discovered the truth when he had; he might've done something he would've regretted if he hadn't. Unfortunately, not everybody had the opportunity to discover the truth about Division or Percy. They were trapped in that hellhole, doing things they normally wouldn't. Ramon, sadly, wasn't the exception. Hardly anyone was.
"I will get Ramon. And when I do, we will both hog-tie him and leave him outside of Interpol in Bogotá," Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Nikita swore. Whatever it was that turned the anarchist into Division's puppet wasn't going to last. The rogues would take him down and make him pay for his crimes. Nikita should've done that years ago, yet she had never known that Percy would've corrupted Ramon. If she had, then she would have acted differently. At the time, though, she hadn't believed that someone with so much sense of self could be corrupted. It hurt that she had been so wrong.
"Okay. The rest of the weekend we'll spend on a beach in Aruba. How does that sound?" Smiling at his girlfriend, Michael suggested. He still needed to find a way to make up for kissing that Division agent. He knew that Nikita knew that it meant nothing. Yet he continued to feel guilty. And, although she wouldn't admit it, she continued to be jealous. The two needed time away from their war and their shared safehouse with Birkhoff to dedicate all their focus and energy on each other. Their relationship deserved to have the same attention paid to it as their crusade. They couldn't forget about each other as they constantly battled monsters.
"Barbados," Stopping her hike towards the Division facility Ramon was held in, Nikita smirked at her boyfriend. She would give anything to be on an island paradise with Michael at that very moment. She could picture it then: bright sunlight, warm sand, sparkling sea, protective arms around her waist, sweet kisses on her lips, fun between the sheets. It was the perfect daydream that she was desperate to make true. Once Ramon and Division were taken care of, it had to be. She wouldn't accept anything less.
"Done and done," Smiling brighter, Michael kissed Nikita. For a second, the couple let themselves bask in that moment of happiness. Then, they refocused on their mission and parted ways. While Nikita moved to survey the Division safehouse, Michael went to tap into the local grid so Birkhoff could have access to the security. Despite his years in Division and as a rogue, Michael hadn't quite picked up hacking. He could get by, yet he definitely needed help. So, once he was in position, he radioed the best hacker he knew (he wouldn't give him the ego boost of knowing he was the best in the world), "Birkhoff, go to line two. I'm going to need your help."
"Look, I get it. You're worried about Nikki. You know, you start this whole crusade to right the wrong, so then she takes the ball, and she's running with it full-throttle. It's just how she rolls," Birkhoff told Michael once they were on a line Nikita wasn't patched through on. He had been worried about Nikita as well. Since P9, she had dived head first into the crusade to correct the sins on the black box. She had made up her mind that that was the right thing to do, and nothing would deter her from her course. It was worrying at times how dedicated and stubborn she could be. But that was how she'd always been.
Confused, Michael couldn't instantly reply to Birkhoff. That had been the farthest thing from his mind. Yes, he was worried about his girlfriend- he always was. But he knew some time away from the war resting on a faraway beach would help her settle. She wouldn't get lost in their crusade, especially not with him there. So what the hell was Birkhoff going on about. What was he seeing that Michael wasn't. Because whatever it was, it wasn't accurate, nor did it have any relevance to the current situation, "No, I'm not talking about…"
"And I understand that we're all together, shacked up like the bizarro Three's Company, but you cannot keep putting me in the middle of your relationship stuff. You know, it's not fair to me. It's not my job," Birkhoff should probably wait until the mission was over before he made it clear that he was not a couple's therapist; he should also make that point clear to Nikita. But if he didn't say something then, the problem would just continue. He couldn't be the mediator between the couple. They needed to sort their shit out on their own.
"Would you just shut up?" Finally and frustratedly, Michael snapped. He perfectly understood that he and Nikita could not bring Birkhoff into any relationship drama they might have. They tried not to. Whenever they had arguments that didn't pertain to their war, they kept it away from him. Living together and spending all their time together just made it difficult. Michael and Nikita would have to get better about separating their relationship stuff from the war. However, that wasn't the conversation Michael was supposed to be having with Birkhoff then; he didn't need advice he already knew, "I need help with the grid, not Nikita."
"I knew that," Birkhoff replied sheepishly. He wasn't going to take back what he had said about not being a mediator between the couple- that point would have to continuously be made clear. However, as he helped Michael tap into the grid and hacked into the Division safehouse's security, he didn't say anything else; he knew better than to shove more than one foot into his mouth. Thankfully, Michael didn't say anything either. He let the conversation go and refocused his attention on the mission, allowing Birkhoff to do the same.
Soon after the security had been hacked into, Birkhoff and Michael were able to direct Nikita around the facility and past numerous Division agents. It was strange seeing them in the same safehouse as Ramon- it was almost as though they were guarding him. But maybe it was incase Interpol came snooping. Or it was a communal space for the agents in the area. Regardless, Nikita had to be careful as she located Ramon. She finally did near the back of the building, "I've got eyes on Ramon on the south balcony. Looks clear."
Michael had to confirm that fact on the hacked security feed before Nikita was allowed to move forward. Her initial assessment was soon proven correct, and she was able to move stealthily towards her target. A million different ways of how she could capture him ran through her mind. Obviously, she had to move him away from the other agents. Yet that shouldn't have been too difficult. The real danger was the anarchist, as warned by Birkhoff, "You better watch yourself, Nikki. Word is Ramon had some moves in Québec. Rode that motorcycle like a Cirque du Soleil clown."
Nikita didn't doubt that Ramon had some impressive skills. You didn't kill for Division for so long if you didn't pull off the impossible from time to time. However, as she moved towards her target and finally saw more than just his face, she realized just how impossible some of his feats were. She stood there gaping for a moment, trying to force her mind to catch up with what her eyes saw. Yet she still couldn't make sense of it even when she did. The questions regarding Ramon continued to grow exponentially. The wheelchair Nikita spotted him in was only the tip of the iceberg, "Yeah, that's the thing about the circus: full of surprises."