Part 55 - Language -- The New Alternate Universe of La Femme Nikita

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Date Posted: 17:04:50 06/21/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 55 - Language
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning 52 and up" on 16:53:51 06/21/02 Fri

Part 55

�I see,� Operations said. �Thank you.� He slapped closed his cell phone and turned to Madeline, �Philippe is dead, and Walter�s on the warpath.�

Madeline had been reading a book, a luxury she never indulged. �Our vacation ends?� she asked.

Paul nodded. �I didn�t expect he�d actually bring them here, but,� he shrugged, �there was always the possibly that the original profile would actually happen.�

Madeline laughed, �You know better than that.� She carefully marked the page of her book, and closed it, feeling a little sad she�d never have a chance to complete it. Unlike real life, she knew the hero would prevail. Not worth finishing anyway. She looked up at Paul, �Shall we go?�

He shook his head, and reached out his hand to her. �I think we can enjoy ourselves a few more hours,� he said.

Madeline took his hand and stood from her chair. �And what did you have in mind?� she said, lips brushing his cheek.

Paul kissed her, gruffly, and said, �I think I can come up with something.�

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

Michael had aborted missions in the past, seeking hidden escape routes, the enemy close behind. But never had he fled with such a treasure. Never had he fled with his heart held by another person. He glanced over at Nikita�s sleeping figure, taking in the fever�s sheen on her face.

�I won�t fail you like I�ve failed everyone else,� he said to her. He hardened his emotions to cool, knowing that was the only mode in which he could succeed in securing their disappearance. Nikita would hate it, complain, get angry with him, but this was the only way he knew how to survive. If they were lucky he could indulge his feelings once they were free. If freedom were possible, and for an instant he dearly hoped so.

His plan was to reach the Italian border and cross over into Switzerland. While it was a predictable move, it also provided the best odds for escape. Long border, safe country, several contacts, some he could even trust. He knew they�d have to abandon the car and hike through the mountainous terrain, but there was no choice. He knew of a safe house north of Milan, not too far from the border, remote enough for a few days rest if need be. They�d have to dump the car before Milan, Michael was sure the car was wired. It was the only explanation for the ease of their escape. Wolfe was far from through with them.

�And I�d do it again!� she yelled. Michael reached out his hand to Nikita, and she flung it away. �Where were you?� She shouted. �All that training, all that yelling, all that torture, and it was up to me, just me!� Her fury filled the air.

�Ni-ki-ta,� Michael said gently, �It�s Michael.� He had hoped that there was nothing of O�Brien�s torment left in her system, but he had known better than to believe it. She had killed Philippe, even though it was self-defense. He didn�t have time to contemplate the effects on her psyche, knowing more ramifications were likely to come.

Nikita opened her eyes, pupils out of focus, face wet with fever, mouth dry. �Where are we?� she asked.

�How are you feeling?� Michael asked, voice calm, emotionless.

Nikita tried sitting up straight, slumped back, and reached for her head. �Ow!� she said, �My head hurts.� Her eyes filled with fear, her hand searching for Michael�s, finding it, and squeezing it tightly. �What happened?� she asked. �Are we ok?�

Michael had been driving for several hours, and knew Nikita needed to rest. �It�s all over,� he said, �Rest.� He needed her to regain some strength, their destination several hours on foot from Milan.

�Just tell me, please,� she said voice filled with panic, �I killed him, didn�t I?� Images of Philippe holding a gun, Fanning talking, Michael finding her. �What happened?� she asked again.

Michael lifted her hand and kissed it gently, eyes remaining on the road. It was dark, and the winding roads of Italy were notoriously treacherous. �It�s over,� he repeated.

�Oh God!� she yelled, �I killed him!� She burst in to tears, sobs shaking her body. Michael clutched her hand, waited for the deluge to subside. Her tears slowed and the words tumbled from her mouth. �I was going to do it for you� but then I knew I couldn�t� and I knew that was ok� but then he was going to kill me� and,� she turned to Michael and said, �I didn�t want to die. So I pulled the trigger.�

�Ni-ki-ta,� Michael said, �You had no choice.� Icily, he added, �Get over it.�

The tone of Michael�s voice was chilling. Nikita�s eyes failed at hiding her fear. �Wh... what?� she asked.

�Be quiet, rest,� he said, eyes still forward.

�Quiet!� she yelled. �I just killed a man who might have been my father! How can you expect me to get over it?� she asked. In her rage her hand brushed against her neck, dislodging the makeshift dressing Michael had applied while she was sleeping. She looked at the bloodied bandage, and voice calm, an octave lower than normal, she said, �It was just like Marco taught me.�

�Put the bandage back on,� Michael said, ignoring her comment about Marco, �It must be covered.�

Nikita did as she was told, but Michael�s demeanor chilled her. Feelings of doubt crept into her mind. Was this the man she wanted to run and hide with? Was this her Knight in Shining Armor? She peered at him through half shut eyes, trying to take in this Michael. How many personas did he have?

�Michael?� she asked, whining slightly, voice tired.

Sigh, and then �Yes?�

�Why are you helping me?� she asked.

After time crawled to a stand still, he replied. �I love you.�

She smiled, said, �That�s good,� and fell asleep.

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

Walter waited in the chateau for a reply. No sense in expending energy until the time was right. He wasn�t particularly worried that the Lieutenant would come after him, at least not yet. He found himself in the study with the two dead bodies. He found the sideboard, poured himself a brandy, drank it, poured a second, drank that, poured a third, and took a seat.

Eyes on Philippe�s dead body, he said, �Sorry, Colonel, I was hoping we�d have a chance to talk.� As if listening to a response, Walter nodded his head, �Yeah, I hear that� fucking war.� He downed the brandy, and poured himself a fourth. Finishing that, he moved on to drinking from the bottle directly. What the hell, for all he knew there�d be no booze whatsoever wherever he was headed. Walter suddenly looked angry. �You should have known better! What were you thinking going to see Bobby in Australia!� Walter wiped some of the liquid from his lips with his palm. �She was the Lieutenant�s woman, we all knew that. I mean, jeeze, I used to think Nikita was mine, too.�

Walter sighed, and noticed Fanning�s prostrate body. His face was frozen in a goofy smile, as if he delighted in his own death. �And you,� Walter said, gesturing with the glass towards his body, �What kind of sick fuck were you?� He stared at his body, waiting for an answer. �I caaaan�t heeaaaar yooouuu,� Walter intoned.

He took another belt from the bottle, eyes shifting around the room. He noticed a few sandwiches lying on the floor near the couch. �Oh, what the hell,� he said, reaching down and scooping them up. He examined one side of the sandwich, then the other, �doesn�t look any worse for wear,� he said. �Bottoms up!� he declared as he stuffed the first sandwich into his mouth. He followed the sandwich with more brandy. �Brie and roast beef, damn fine combination,� he said to Fanning. He giggled. �Right, you�re done with the sandwiches.�

Walter ate a few more bites, and drank a little more brandy. For the first time since Michael turned up from jail, Walter was drunk. �Shit,� he said to Fanning. This is not a good time for this.� Walter tilted his head, examining Fanning�s face intently, �So, you the kind of guy I�m going be dealing with for the rest of my life?� He waited for an answer and hearing none said, �You don�t say much, do you?�

Placing the empty brandy bottle on to the floor, Walter left the study and found his way back towards the computer. �Let�s see if my little buddy got anything for me,� he said to no one in particular. He entered his password and waited for a response. After several minutes, a message appeared. Walter read it several times, just in case. He smiled, �I love Paris!�

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

Adrian was not happy at all. Nothing had gone as planned, Madeline had only provided half of what was necessary, Paul was full of revenge, and Michael, she didn�t even want to think about him. He was such an angry young man. �He has every right,� a small voice in her head reminded her. She dismissed the voice, it had to be done, there were no other options.

She stared out the window of the train, hoping she had made the right decision. Make that, decisions. �No regrets now, dear,� she said to herself. Adrian lifted the teacup to her lips and silently acknowledged the mountainous sacrifices Michael had made. She swallowed the tea, wishing those sacrifices were over, knowing it was just the beginning. The beginning. So long ago, and yet hadn�t even started yet.

And what of Nikita? Adrian truly felt sorry for the burdens that Roberta had carried. And the daughter, her burdens yet to begin. Adrian thought about Roberta and felt sadness. She was a smart girl, deserved much better than any of the men gave her. She smiled, Walter. He always treated her the way she deserved. But Paul. If Adrian hadn�t been beholden to her rank, she would have straightened him out long before he banished Roberta from the compound. His one chance at true happiness. Did he even remember? Was he even the kind of man who could enjoy happiness?

Adrian waved her hand at an invisible mosquito. She could not indulge in these thoughts, let alone feel sorry for anyone else. If it weren�t for them, she had to admit, the world would be different. She hoped they made it better, but she wasn�t exactly sure. She did know that at least Philippe�s network of terror was finished. But wasn�t it their fault it existed in the first place? And now it seemed that all along Paul had manipulated everything for his own benefit, Section�s benefit?

�Everything all right, Madame?� her manservant Frederick asked, solicitous as always.

�I think I require a bit of sherry from the beverage car,� she said, desiring both a sherry and some privacy.

�Of course, Madame,� he said, exiting their private coach.

Adrian reached into her purse and retrieved a small telephone. She dialed several numbers, waited, and spoke. �I believe it�s time for your assistance,� she said.

�What kind of assistance may I offer?� the man asked.

Adrian had no time for their usual banter. �Just make sure Michael lives,� she said.

�And why should I do that?� the voice asked.

�He�ll be a better ally than Paul ever could be, you know that. You�ve been watching him as well as I have,� she replied.

�Oversight does not interfere in the day-to-day affairs of the Sections, Adrian. You know that,� George replied.

�Don�t speak to me as I were a child,� she retorted. �These two are the brightest possibilities Section has seen in a long time.�

�I don�t disagree darling,� he replied. �All in due time.�

�He lives?� she asked, voice demanding, for a proper English gentlewoman.

�I�ll do my best,� he replied, sighing, and added, �I�m surprised at your sentimentality, Adrian.�

�Don�t be a fool, George,� she replied, �This was all preordained before I picked up the telephone��

George chuckled, �I suppose so, dear. I�ll see you there.�

Frederick returned to the car with Adrian�s sherry. He held out the silver service tray, and Adrian took the glass, emptied it, and said, �I do believe I need another.�

�Yes, Madame,� he said.

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

Michael had them marching at a grueling pace. Nikita�s arms and legs were aching, her head hurt, she was sure she was bleeding to death, but Michael kept pushing. She�d tumble, stumble, give up and sit down, and he�d force her back to her feet, checking her wounds, and forge ahead.

�Oof,� she said, stumbling again. She lay face down on the path, in the darkness. They had been walking through thick forest to Michael�s unknown location. Nikita began to cry, not from sadness, mostly exasperation. �I can�t go another step!� she yelled. �My entire body hurts, I�m sorry.�

Nikita felt herself hoisted to her feet. �Keep going,� Michael said, voice quiet, calm, steady. �Another hour, then rest.� He could barely see her in the dim moonlight, but her eyes sparkled through the darkness nonetheless. She felt his gaze pass over her face and received a surge of energy from his simple stare. She was torn between continuing on and planting an enormous kiss on his silent mouth. The throbbing in her neck, radiating to her jaw informed her decision. She nodded, exhaled, and moved forward.

�Thank you,� Michael whispered. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and led them on through the moonlight.

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Part 56 - Language - again! -- Repost Fairy, 17:06:00 06/21/02 Fri