Part 54 - language maybe -- The New Alternate Universe of La Femme Nikita

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Date Posted: 16:59:42 06/21/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 54 - language maybe
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning 52 and up" on 16:53:51 06/21/02 Fri

Part 54

Philippe returned, a servant following with a tray of tea and sandwiches. �I thought you might be hungry,� he said.

Nikita nodded and said, �Actually, I�m famished.� She tried to keep her hand away from the gun handle that was pushing against her hip.

He poured her a cup of tea and brought the tray over to her. She filled a plate with small sandwiches and took the tea. A small table sat next to the couch, awaiting her treasures. She greedily dug into the sandwiches, not taking a moment to breath between each bite.

Philippe laughed. �That�s how you ate as a child. It seemed you were always hungry.�

Nikita finished the sandwich she was eating and said, �I was. Now please, tell me why I�m here.�

He had taken a seat in a posh chair near the couch. �As I told you, I�ve thought of you all this time as my daughter. I didn�t want�� he paused, sipping his tea. �I didn�t want to die without telling you I was sorry.�

�Sorry? For which thing? Abandoning my mother? Me? I don�t understand any of this.� Nikita slumped back against the couch, mind leaping from one thought to the next. She couldn�t kill this man. She was an adult and whatever happened to her when she was young was over. She controlled her own destiny, and she wasn�t going to kill anyone. Walter be damned!

Philippe sighed and said, �You�ve come to kill me, haven�t you?� he asked.

Nikita�s face blushed despite her holding her emotions in check. �Wh�what do you mean?�

�I know what they�ve been doing to you. Paul thinks I�ve been hiding behind my network, hidden all these years. Now I would say the joke is on him.� Philippe reached his hand between the chair cushion and the arm of the chair and withdrew a gun. �I know Paul is waiting triumphantly for your return. I can�t let that happen.� He aimed the gun at Nikita.

Nikita�s eyes opened wide with horror, her hand slipping under her shirt, fingers grasping the handle of the gun. �I don�t understand,� she said. �You didn�t have to bring me here to kill me,� she said.

He rose from his chair, gun aimed at her. �It�s been quite delightful following everyone�s adventures. I�ve especially enjoyed poor Walter.�

�What about him?� Nikita asked, forcing the panic back down her throat.

�He doesn�t know whether he�s coming or going. Paul and Adrian have fed him so many lies! It�s really been marvelous.� Philippe laughed quietly. �And please, drop your weapon, I know you have one.�

Nikita kept her hands where they were, and gave him a puzzled look. �Where does Michael fit into all of this?� she asked, trying to distract him.

�Ah,� he said, eyes still on her hands, but saying nothing about her not disarming. �Yes, your Michael. It was convenient that you fell in love with him. It�s all the more delicious.�

�This is crazy,� she said before she could stop herself. �Why Michael?� she added.

�Gerard was right. He was too good. Michael discovered anomalies that ultimately would have led him to me. That couldn�t be. As a favor to Adrian I merely had everything he loved destroyed. Simple, really,� he finished.

Nikita blinked back the tears. She was supposed to get answers and instead all she got were the ravings of a madman. She watched as he cocked the gun, finger tensing against the trigger. She pulled her gun from its hiding place, aimed, and fired.

Two shots. One from his gun, one from hers. Two bodies tumbling to the ground. One alive, one dead.

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

Michael heard the gunshots. He had quietly crept to the chalet, using his and Walter�s technological tools to disarm the various securities which surrounded the area. Michael had been right, one person could slip through, two would have been too many. He hoped Walter was all right.

He carefully crept towards a set of doors, eyes searching for signs of trouble. Nothing. It was eerily quiet, too quiet. He opened the door, and headed to where the sounds had emanated. He crept down the hallway, still no sign of anyone. There should have been an entire battalion of security. Perhaps David had provided backup in more ways than one.

Michael came to a door, and gently placed his ear against it, listening of any sound. He heard Nikita�s soft moans. Michael flung the door open, and saw Nikita curled in a ball, lying on the floor. He stepped over Philippe�s body to reach her, noting the ashen color of death. Philippe was dead.

Nikita heard someone�s footsteps and opened her eyes. �Michael,� she cried, not looking at him. �I didn�t mean to do it, but he was going to kill me. I didn�t�� Her words were lost in her cries.

Michael kneeled next to her, put his gun on the ground, then moved his hands to Nikita, fingers roaming her body, searching for the wound. He found what he was looking for � an angry red gash ran across her collarbone along the base of her throat and neck. Another few millimeters and she would have bled to death instantly. He wiped away the blood, ignoring her cries, trying to determine the extent of the wound. The bullet had left a deep furrow in her skin - was that bone showing in the front? - but if he could stem infection and stop the bleeding, she would probably be fine. He then noticed the deep welts covering her legs and arms. Her skin felt hot, he feared infection had already begun.

�Michael,� she whispered, �How bad is it?� Her fingers had gripped his shirt, pulling him close.

Michael brushed the tangles of her hair from her face. �You�ll be fine,� he whispered. �We just need to get out of here.� He pulled her to a sitting position, steadying her against the couch. He pulled the napkin from the tray that held the sandwiches, knocking over the rest and spilling the pot of tea, bundled it up and pressed it onto Nikita�s wound. �Hold it against it,� he told.

�You hold it, pretty boy,� a voice said. Michael turned and saw David Fanning standing across the room. His gun, naturally aimed at Michael�s head. �Ah ah ah,� Fanning said as he saw Michael�s eyes shift towards the gun he had left on the ground. �Put her on the couch, then please, won�t you join her,� he ordered.

Michael did as he was told, taking the extra time to consider potential options. He lifted Nikita from the ground, her whimpers tugging his heartstrings, and gently put her on the couch. Nikita�s eyes were clouding and the sweat was gathering on her brow. Cries were erupting from her mouth.

�Sit,� Fanning ordered again.

Michael sat next to Nikita, hand protectively resting on her lap. Face neutral, he waited.

�Michael, Michael, you want to kill me so bad you can taste it,� Fanning said, psychotic eyes blazing at him. David was pacing, about ten feet from the couch. Back and forth, back and forth, eyes never wavering from Michael�s. �I gotta say, I can�t blame you� but,� he said, �That�s not in the cards today.� Fanning giggled. �I love this job,� he said. �Now what I�m supposed to do is get you two love birds to Greece! Be an assassin, travel the world! It�s a great life.� His eyes drifted to Nikita, taking in her deteriorating condition. �Where was I,� he said, �Oh, right. So, what I need for you to do, is just wait while�� his voice trailed off as the deep dark red stain spread across his chest. He looked down, his hand pressed flat against the wound, �Oh, shit.� He collapsed, life slipping away, giggling quietly until no sound was heard.

�Thank you,� Michael said, still holding Nikita�s weapon on Fanning.

Nikita smiled weakly, and said, �I guess he forgot I had one.� She swallowed, blue eyes clouding with heat, and said, �I�m really tired, is this almost over?�

The corners of Michael�s mouth moved slightly in a wry smile. �No,� he whispered. �Let�s go.� He pulled her to her feet. �We need to find a vehicle,� he said.

Slinking along the long hallway to the front entrance, they saw no one. Nikita stumbled, but kept pace with Michael. The entire chateau was abandoned. Michael knew this escape was much to easy, but he thanked whomever for it anyway. Uninterrupted they found a car, keys still in the ignition, boarded the vehicle, and drove quickly away from the estate.

�Too damned easy,� Michael said to the feverish Nikita.

Nikita took a drink from the flask Michael gave her, �Easy�s good,� she said, �I like easy.� Her eyelids fluttered closed and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Michael drove on, raising his palm to her forehead; he felt the fever settling in. He couldn�t risk stopping, and hoped that whatever infection was brewing would be slow growing. With one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm reached to the back seat, hand feeling along the floor, searching for his bag.

�Ni-ki-ta,� he said, trying to roust her. She moaned a little, and he repeated her name. She opened her eyes, cloudy, and looked at him. �In my pack are some antibiotics, find them, and take them.� He found the bag and placed it on her lap.

With great difficulty she rummaged through the pockets looking for the pills. She couldn�t find them and started to cry. �This is my fault,� she said, tracks of tears spilling down her face.

Michael was loathe to pull over, but he had no choice. He stopped the car, grabbed the pack from her, located the pills and handed them to her. �Swallow,� he demanded. She did as instructed, choking down the pills, her mouth empty of saliva. �Rest,� he said, as he started the car. He knew she needed medical attention, but if they had any chance to disappear, he had to find freedom for them now.

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

�Goddamnit!� Walter yelled as he reached the chateau. Completely abandoned, Philippe dead, Fanning dead. �Michael, you shouldn�t have!� he said as he made sure the two men were dead. He walked over to the telephone in the study, lifted the receiver, dialed several numbers, and waited for a connection. His eyes continuing to sweep the room.

�Yes?� the voice at the other end said.

�Eight, double oh, zebra� oh Jesus, this is Walter,� he said.

�Hold please,� the voice said.

�Walter?� Adrian asked.

�What the hell is going on here?� he yelled into the phone. Walter�s eyes took in the dead bodies and he shook his head in disgust. �Philippe is dead, that freak Fanning is dead, and Michael and Nikita are gone. It was all a set up! Kill and then escape. What the hell is going on?�

�Calm down,� Adrian replied. �Perhaps Paul has seen fit to give them a few days together before it�s all over.�

Walter chortled. �Given how many times he�s lied to me over the last month, I find that hard to believe.� Walter sighed, and said, �This was all just a big fucking game about Wolfe getting even with Philippe. Did the lieutenant even care about all the innocent people who died?�

�I can�t answer that,� Adrian said. �We�ve been tracking Philippe�s network for years, unable to locate him, to stop this, and suddenly Paul has all the answers. You tell me.�

�Is he really in Santorini?� Walter asked.

�Walter,� Adrian cautioned, �Don�t do anything foolish. Your life has already changed forever, and you know it. Don�t make it worse.�

�He�s been playing me the fool since he came back into my life. The minute I saw him I should have hightailed it out of there,� Walter replied.

Adrian sighed, �Walter, he was a good man. You had no choice. Besides, Nikita is still alive, and that was your goal.�

�I�ve doomed her to a life of hell!� Walter yelled. �And I�m going to stop it!� he said, slamming down the phone onto its cradle.

�That�s not possible,� Adrian said into the disconnected line.

Walter looked at his watch � early evening. It would be impossible to get the kind of transport he needed this evening. He decided he�d search the chateau, see if anything of value was available. He wandered up and down stairs, room to room, searching for anything.

He came upon Philippe�s private sanctuary, and saw the computer system was still up and running. Walter walked over to the desk, pulled out the chair, and sat. �Let�s see if my little buddy remembered at least one of the things I taught him,� he said to the screen. Typing for several minutes, he sent his message.

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

Birkoff had settled into some semblance of an existence at Section. Choice taken from him, he made the best of it. If he didn�t think about his loss of free will, the rest was ok. He had established a nice relationship with Gail, comfortable, easy, nothing serious, but at least a friend, and sometimes lover. He even thought he might be getting better at it. He blushed at the thought.

He was sitting at his console in his room, blowing off time, waiting for the next stupid assignment to come his way. Most of the things they asked him to do were so easy, any six year old could figure it out. He was feeling a little lonely, and was surfing the net looking for anything to strike his fancy. Madeline had given him carte blanche access to everything upon his return. Of course no contacts with his old life, he knew the score, no fuck ups, or he was dead.

That didn�t mean, however, he couldn�t play Risk with his on-line anonymous friends. He typed his password and saw a game had just begun. He requested the list of players and to his dismay he saw the initials ATG � Alexander the Great. �Oh my God,� Birkoff muttered, �It�s Walter!� He quickly typed a message only Walter would understand, and hopefully Madeline would not. He hadn�t seen her all day, and perhaps her scary interest was on someone else today. He waited for a response.

�Troops divided, in need of leadership,� read the message.

�Need coordinates,� he wrote back, �messenger to follow.� Birkoff waited, insides churning, Walter was out there somewhere, and he was going to help. Birkoff allowed a small sliver of hope into his brain, knowing either he was dreaming or it was a trap. He hoped it would be a nice dream.

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Part 55 - Language -- Repost Fairy, 17:04:50 06/21/02 Fri