| Subject: Heat Wave 1 |
Author:
'chelle
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Date Posted: 10:11:00 01/05/02 Sat
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Heat Wave" on 10:01:34 01/05/02 Sat
"Heat Wave"
by ‘chelle ..with special mention to sekrit somone
Disclaimer: Here in lies WMS and angst a go-go… I only borrowed these characters for my own nefarious means, I eventually put them back where I found them… in good condition even. Donations of spyboys and cheezy poofs welcomed in bulk at the usual drop off points. Thank you please drive thru.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One
It was hot. Even for July.
The heat of the pavement seared through Nikita's thin leather shoes, forcing her to walk faster from the car to the building even though it was an effort to move at all in the oppressive heat. Michael was keeping a watchful ear on her whilst sitting back in the van, several blocks back, and would wait there until her return. She thought of him, sitting in there with the air conditioning humming away at full force, and cursed him.
"What?"
"Nothing" she muttered. "How's the air working in the van Michael? Nice and comfy?"
In the solitude of the van, Michael allowed himself a small smile. "Are you almost in?"
"Yes." Nikita pushed open the front doors, sighing in relief as the cool air rushed to greet her, washing over her hot body. She walked up to the front security booth and addressed the waiting guard. "Quinlan Securities please?"
The guard handed her a check in sheet, "Building's closing early today, most offices in the city are closing down because of the heat. I'd make sure you were out of here in less than an hour." He took back the signed sheet and made a notation.
"Thank you" Nikita smiled and nudged the side of her glasses. "I'll be sure to be as quick as possible." With an efficient move, she turned on her stylish heel and walked to the elevator.
A large unkempt man, a biker from the looks of him, entered the elevator just ahead of her. Immediately alert, she shifted her bag containing her gun to her other shoulder and turned to punch the button for the fifth floor, only to see a big callused hand already pressing it. She gave him a vague elevator smile and waited as they were whisked up to the correct floor.
As she stepped out, he was right on her heels. As she marched down the hallway, he followed her like a lost puppy. Nikita placed her hand on the doorknob to Quinlan Securities and turned, pushing the door open. The biker, without pausing, followed her in and closed the door behind them.
This could be interesting.
The waiting room was sparse, yet elegant. Two very comfortable overstuffed armchairs sat on either side of the room along with a coffee table that held magazines covering everything from 'Good Housekeeping' to 'Outlaw Weekly'. Nikita walked up to the young woman sitting at the front desk, "Hello, Mr. Quinlan please?"
The woman raised her head from her typing only long enough to give Nikita a cursory glance. "Do you have an appointment?"
The door to the right of the desk opened and a tall good-looking man walked out, regarding the willowy blond before him. "It's ok Becky," He held out one hand toward Nikita, "Won't you come in?"
Nikita started to walk forward, aware that the biker man was still close behind her. She was starting to get an edgy feeling and started to wish Michael had been more insistent about a back up team on this mission. "Why don't you call it a day Becky? Our business will be finished here soon, and I believe my schedule is clear for the rest of the day."
"Of course Mr. Quinlan, I'll just finish this last letter and… "
"No... that can wait Becky, the heat is going to spike here in the next couple of hours. I'd feel better if you left now." His voice slipped into an old world charm as he relayed concern for his assistant.
She blushed and blindly moved to cut the power to the computer. "What ever you say Mr. Quinlan."
Quinlan ushered Nikita into his office and accompanied her to a chair beside the massive oak desk. Nikita heard the door close behind her and knew the biker had indeed followed her into the room. Nikita reached up and re-adjusted her glasses again. She threw up a quick prayer that Michael was paying attention.
"Try and look behind you Nikita, I want to get a better picture of the office you're in." Because Nikita knew him so well, she heard the 'in case I have to come in' he didn't add on the end of his sentence. Slowly, Nikita nudged her purse off her lap, letting it fall to the floor. With an embarrassed smile, she leaned down to pick it up, and cast a glance behind her, hoping it would be enough.
"Eyes forward please." The precise tones cut through Nikita like a blade. She straightened and stared into the cold hard steel of a colt barrel.
"I… I don’t understand." Nikita raised her hands up slightly, indicating she would not give any trouble.
"Nikita, I'm on my way." Michael's voice sounded calm and comforting. Nikita took a deep mental breath, Michael was coming.
However, if she had happened to see his face, she wouldn't have been as comforted. When Nikita had turned, Michael had finally gotten a good look at the "Biker dude".
Samuel Capistrano.
A Red Cell Officer that was on Section One's "Highly Dangerous" list. Unknown to Nikita, in their last raid on Red Cell, Capistrano's brother had been shot and killed. By Nikita. Michael's mind was screaming 'set up' but first and foremost, he had to get to her. Otherwise, Nikita was dead.
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