Part 52 - language -- The New Alternate Universe of La Femme Nikita

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Date Posted: 16:55:47 06/21/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 52 - language
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning 52 and up" on 16:53:51 06/21/02 Fri

Part 52

Nikita�s entire body ached, her limbs beyond numb, beyond pins and needles, dead weights hanging from her shoulders, her trunk. She closed her eyes to the passing Tuscan villages, vineyards, fields, animals, and thought about Michael. Fanning�s deed was surely worse than Michael�s darkest expectations. Elena pregnant. Nikita�s eyes had tried to bathe Michael with her love while Fanning recited his actions. Michael�s eyes reflected nothing, nothing but the deepest self-hatred she had ever seen. The ache in her body for Michael was much greater than any she was feeling in her limbs.

Fanning was whistling some god-awful tune, off key. �Not much longer, Sleeping Beauty.� She ignored him, thinking only of Michael. She barely knew him, didn�t even know how old he was, or where he was born, or what his favorite color� that was easy, it must be black. She smiled the tiniest of smiles, relishing his dark wardrobe. Even in the tropics, the heat of Antigua, he favored black. She�d have to ask him someday. Her smile faded, realizing that she may never see him again. A wave passed over her so quickly, she thought she would drown in loss. What would happen if she never saw him again? She closed her mind to that possibility; it was not part of the game plan. They promised Walter.

�You�re thinking about Prince Charming, aren�t you?� he asked, noting the love struck look in her eyes. He was a student of the human condition after all. �You�ve got it real bad for that dude, don�t you?�

Nikita ignored his ridiculous comments. This man couldn�t possibly understand anything about love, let alone life. He was a cold-hearted killer.

David put his hand on her shoulder, fingers stroking her neck. �I see why he�s got it for you,� he said, �But� excuse me for saying so, but I don�t think he�s that attractive.� His voice had taken on the ups and downs of a spoken song. �I bet I could show you a thing or two in the sack that he never thought of.�

Nikita�s skin began to crawl. �Remove your hand,� she said, eyes facing forward.

�Yes ma�am,� he said, moving his hand from her back to the steering wheel.

What little traffic there had been disappeared, the roads becoming narrower, population sparser. Nikita knew they must be closer to their destination. She hoped they were, she couldn�t stand much more of the discomfort. Not that she was going to say anything about it. However, the pain in her torso, the stinging and numbness in her limbs, and the pounding headache were beginning to take their toll, the edges of panic grabbing hold. She was determined not to give in to it. �Why are you doing this?� she blurted, anything to take her mind of her body.

�Job,� he answered, �This is all part of what I do.�

She was sure by the time they arrived wherever the hell it was she would need her arms and legs amputated. �Most jobs don�t include kidnapping and murder in the job description.�

David laughed, and said, �I know, I hate those jobs!� He was well aware of how miserable she felt, and the damp sweat covering her body told him she was doing a damn find job ignoring the pain. He turned his face to hers, capturing her eyes, and said, �You�re one hell of a broad.�

She laughed. Genuinely. What the hell, it�s not every day an honest to goodness psychopath compliments you like Bogart to Bacall. If she weren�t truly in fear of her life and losing Michael she would have asked him if he knew how to whistle. Undoubtedly, he did.

The car came to halt. Nikita glanced around and saw they were in front of a large bronze gate hiding a driveway. An indiscrete panel held an intercom. Before Fanning pressed the button, he said to Nikita, �Piece of advice,� he said, �Be nice when you meet Dad.� He turned back to the panel, opened his window, reached out, and pressed the button.

�Si,� said a disembodied voice.

�Uh, yeah, Signore Fanning qui� let me in,� he said. He grinned at Nikita. �My Italian still needs some work.�

�I noticed,� she said.

The car continued up a winding, narrow path into the hillside. After nearly half an hour, they arrived. To Nikita�s untrained eye, she was certain they had arrived in the 13th century. A magnificent, expansive fortress of a home encompassed her entire vision. She was sure that Rapunzel was locked in the tower and Rumplestiltskin was spinning gold in the dungeon.

The door to the castle opened and an older gentleman walked toward the car. Nikita recognized him both from the photographs and her recent memories of Thailand. It was Philippe Chabon. He was flanked by two men, security by the looks, but adorned in fine Italian suits.

The Frenchman walked over to the car, opened Nikita�s door and said, �It�s good to see you again.�

Nikita carefully examined the man, taking in every detail of his face. Was this man her mother used to cry for? Was this Nikita�s father? She remembered this man spending time with her, reading to her, distracting her while her mother was no where to be found.

�Are you my father?� she asked, blue eyes challenging.

Philippe cleared his throat, �All in good time,� he replied. �I�m sorry you�ve had such an unpleasant journey. It couldn�t be avoided.�

His voice was warm, but somewhat weak. Her memories had it much stronger, more resonance. �Couldn�t you have just called� you know� invited me to visit instead of kidnapping me?�

He smiled sadly, �it�s a very long story, young lady, and once we get you cleaned up, we�ll have a chat.� He turned from them and reentered the house.

The two security men stepped towards the car to Nikita. One of the men cut her ties, freeing her arms and legs. Nikita had been waiting for this moment. As her adrenaline surged with anticipation of escape, she heard a voice.

�I�ve got a gun on you blondie,� David said, �And even though I won�t kill ya, I will shoot ya. Got it?�

Defeated, Nikita allowed the men to hoist her from the car. Her legs were covered with cuts, she had been wishing she had put on jeans instead of shorts. Arms numb, dried blood, sweat caked to her wrists and forearms. She couldn�t have escaped no matter how hard she tried.

�Bend your legs before you walk,� one of the security men said. She complied and stretched her long legs a few times, restoring the blood flow to her feet. She wanted to flop onto the ground and kick and scream, but was determined to be the strong heroine. After all, even though she was still waiting for the script, she knew that was her role in this adventure.

Nikita nodded her head, indicating she was ready to walk. The two men took position on either side of her, Fanning behind her, gun still aimed in her direction. His voice drifted up to her ears. �They�ll take you to your room, wash up and get dressed. He�ll be waiting for you in the study in an hour.�

�Yes sir,� she said loudly, �Anything you say.� Then she muttered, �Freak.�

�I heard that!� Fanning yelled, laughing. �Make that an hour and a half� and we could make beautiful music together!� Nikita�s stomach dropped, nausea filling her already battered body. She concentrated on walking, and prayed Fanning was merely attempting to rattle her.

They entered the house and Nikita�s eyes opened wide at the magnificence around her. Surely the king and queen were holding a ball. This place was something out of a movie� tapestries hanging from the walls, antique furniture straight from Versailles, chandeliers, Tuscan pottery� a mishmash of styles that somehow worked.

After walking through the large entranceway, and eyeing the large cavernous rooms, the men led her to the staircase. �I can make it from here,� she said. They acquiesced and as she was about to head upstairs, she felt a warm body press against her back. A hand roughly grasping her shoulder. His breath was warm, and sent shivers down her spine. �If we were alone� the music would be beautiful� but there�s no time. Sorry, babe,� Fanning whispered in her ear. He ran his had down her back and he pinched her butt. �Now git!� he yelled, laughing.

************

�That�s it,� Walter said, starting the car. There was no traffic and he slipped the car onto the narrow road, continuing the journey to Nikita.

Michael considered what Walter had told him. A failed mission, love, jealousy, drugs, lies, deceit, the military, terror, games, Nikita. And him. If Michael hadn�t already experienced his own agency�s deceptions, he wouldn�t have believed that any of this was possible. He could buy everything except for one thing. Why him? Who was he? He offered nothing that these people wanted.

�Let her do it,� Michael said, right hand fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, left hand still holding the gun to Walter. �And it will destroy her.�

Walter threw a glance at Michael, eyes focused back on the road. �It's going to happen, it's too late,� Walter said.

Michael�s eyes narrowed, shifted to Walter, and said, �It�s only too late if you let this happen.�

Walter mumbled something unintelligible, and continued driving.

�This isn�t you,� Michael said, shaking his head slightly. �What do they have?� Michael asked.

�What do they have?� Walter thought to himself. Where do you begin? How do you explain war to someone who hasn�t been there? Especially that one? �Kid,� Walter finally said, �I know you�ve been to hell and back. Lost people you love. Your son. I don�t know what that�s like.� Walter took a deep breath and continued. �I made some bad choices back then, and I�m paying for them, and Nikita�s paying for them, and you�re paying for them.� He looked at Michael for a moment, catching his green smoky eyes. �I�ve done everything I can to protect her, and I fucked up, ok?� Walter was practically shouting. He collected himself and continued, �Look, kid, ever since I showed up in London, a complicated game has been played, rules changing all the time. What I know is that if I don�t follow the Lieutenant�s instructions, Nikita will turn into that monster O�Brien before we know it. Good enough for you?�

�No,� Michael said. There had to be another way. His own life didn�t matter to him, he�d gladly give it up for her. Michael held his gun to Walter, headache pounding between his ears. Some day he�d have to see a doctor about that. They were getting worse.

�Why?� Michael asked, contemplating his options, one of which included killing Walter after all.

Walter spoke again. �I promised Bobby,� he said, at last. �I promised her� no matter what� if her dad came for her, to let her go.�

Michael rubbed his eyes, and put down his gun. �Even if he was a killer?� Michael asked, �Even if he made her daughter a killer?�

Walter turned to Michael, eyes moist, no tears. �Maybe we can stop it.�

�It may already be too late,� Michael whispered, �She�s been conditioned, drugged. When I thought she was better�� he said, remembering her bizarre behavior the last time they were intimate, �� She wasn�t.�

Walter pounded his fists against the steering wheel and shouted, �Don�t you fucking get it? It�s all over no matter what you do!� He tried to compose himself. �You�ve been marked, and no matter where you go they�ll find you. Same goes for her.�

Michael picked up the gun again, wrapping his fingers tightly around the handle, and pulled back gently on the trigger. The muzzle carefully pushing on Walter�s carotid artery. �Walter,� he said, �What�s the endgame?�

Walter stopped the car. �We�re here. House is about ten clicks away.�

�Endgame,� Michael repeated, pushing the gun firmly against Walter�s neck.

Walter slowly turned his head to face Michael, eyes cold, and said, �You work for Section. Both of you.�

Section, S�ret�, security, all the same. �Adrian knows I�m finished,� Michael said, lowering his weapon in disgust. There were no ideals here, only games of power.

Walter motioned for Michael to get out of the car. Despite his preoccupation with their situation, Michael approved of Walter�s positioning of the vehicle. He had skillfully hidden them from both the road and the hillside. Michael grabbed his pack from the backseat and got out of the car.

�You�ll never be finished, Michael,� Walter said, �You know that�s not how it works.�

Michael�s fist connected squarely on Walter�s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Michael stood over him, gun aimed at his head. �Last chance. What aren�t you telling me?�

Walter rubbed his jaw. Michael was a strong man, and Walter was pretty sick of being hammered by the guy. �It was her choice.�

************

Nikita soaked her exhausted battered body in the luxurious bathtub of her room. �Make the best of it, I always say,� she thought to herself. Not so different than living on the street. Roll with the punches, keep your mouth shut, and maybe get out alive.

She squeezed the plump sponge empty of its water on to her breasts. She closed her eyes, breathing deep, forcing her pulse to remain steady and calm. Now was the time for the performance of her life.

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Part 53 Language -- Repost Fairy, 16:57:37 06/21/02 Fri