Identity - Part Seven

On the day of the fund raiser, Nikita was so occupied with the details of the mission that she didn't have time to think about Michael, spending more than an hour trying on wigs and outfits before settling on a simple linen blazer and skirt and a shoulder length black wig. And then there was schematics to be studied and a plan of action to be discussed with the other operatives, who was being placed where and who had responsibility for which part of the floor, a transmitter and receiver to be placed in her blazer and ear, glasses to provide the video link that Michael would use to identify Legion members.

It had seemed to be taken as a given that Michael would not be inside and she understood the wisdom of that. As far as the Legion knew he was dead and to see him wandering the lobby of the Marriott would only drive them off so he was to sit in the van with Birkhoff and monitor the video feed Nikita provided. He had spent an hour or two closeted with Madeline and Operations and when she had finally gotten a glimpse of him in the hallway he had looked tired and tense, just standing there with his back against the wall; she had wanted to go to him but then Walter had distracted her, drawing her attention to the assortment of guns he had laid out on his work table, and when she had glanced back Michael was gone.

4:00 PM and she was walking through the banquet room, just beginning to fill up, winding her way through the tables, a smile that felt brittle even to her stretching her lips, scanning the banquet room, lifted one hand to adjust the glasses and said softly, "Are you receiving?"

"Picture's good." said Birkhoff's voice in her ear. A pause and then Michael's voice, "Head back to the entrance and work your way back."

Letting her eyes roam casually around the room, Nikita nodded to another operative as he passed her and made her way back to the entrance, constantly scanning the room, making the movements deliberately slow so that Michael would be able to see the faces distinctly on the monitor. The conversations around her were just white noise as she walked out into the lobby, taking a quick glance around before going back into the banquet room. For the next half-hour she moved constantly through the crowd, taking a few precious minutes to disentangle herself from an older man that had already drank a few too many glasses of champagne and another held in one shaky hand, and finally came to a halt just beside the entrance.

"Anything?" she asked, idly glancing at the podium and the table set up behind it, where Warfield would be sitting. So far there was only a few people seated at the table, none of which were Warfield, and she shifted her gaze to roam the crowd, looking for any other operatives working the floor. She spotted Nadia standing by one of the tables and once she had got her attention, Nadia gave a shake of her head to indicate nothing suspicious and Nikita sighed, resisting the urge to scratch her scalp under the wig. It had started to itch and it was irritating, she wanted to just take it and toss it a nearby garbage can but she had been seen before by Legion members and her height alone was enough to make her stand out, not to mention the pale blond hair.

"Head back to the podium." said Michael in her ear and with a sigh, she did as he said, taking a different path than before, but the link was silent as she reached the podium and she turned around to walk back, head dipping as she bent over to adjust one high heeled shoe, rubbing a little at her aching heel. She would definitely have to get rid of these shoes, they were rubbing against the back of her heel and the flesh was becoming raw, lifting her head as she straightened she glanced to her left and then to her right, striding forward.

"Wait--" She came to an abrupt halt at the command, scanning those faces immeaditly to her right, seeing an older woman with platinum blond hair and a blue-sequined dress with a man of similar age and wearing a bad brown toupee, past them a couple, she in long white dress cut very low across the bosom and down the back, the man old enough to be her father and heavy set. "No, to your left." said Michael and she turned her head to look again, seeing two men standing together. One was tall and blond, big boned and muscular, the other shorter and older with dark hair, the blond wearing a navy suit and the other a black tuxedo, both with champage glasses and talking in low tones.

She let her eyes skip over them and drew back a step. "Someone you recognize?"

"Hold your position." responded Michael tersely.

In the van, Michael rose from his chair and pulled the headset off to drop it down on the counter in front of Birkhoff; Birkhoff lifted his head from the monitor to look at him, a slight frown on his face. "I don't think you're supposed to go inside." he said cautiously.

"Give me your gun, Birkhoff." He had asked for one and Operations had said simply that since he was going to be monitoring from the van he didn't need one, there had not even been the standby one he had kept in his office and he hadn't bothered trying to go to Walter. Everyone was being very careful around him and he was becoming heartily sick of it.

"Operations said--" began Birkhoff and trailed off as Michael leaned in close to him.

"Do I have to take it from you?" he asked, voice low and menacing.

Paling a little, Birkhoff reached under the counter for the gun he kept stashed there and handed it over to him, barrel first. Flicking off the safety Michael pulled back the slide and reached behind him to place the gun at the small of his back, muttering, "Thank you." Turning he opened the van door and stepped out onto the pavement.

Once he had gone, Birkhoff activated the link with Operations, clearing his throat nervously, knowing that the old man was going to be pissed but he would be even more pissed if Birkhoff didn't tell him. "Uhh--Michael's coming in."

"Damn it, Birkhoff--" A heavy sigh and then Operations snapped, "Patch me through to him."

"I can't, he left his headset behind."

"Then get me Nikita!"

"Right." said Birkhoff hastily and patched him through.

Remaining where she was, as Michael had told her, Nikita was surprised to hear Operations' voice in her ear, low and intense. "Nikita, you are to intercept and contain Michael. Is that clear?"

Swiveling she looked to the door in time to see Michael come inside, moving her way, the line of his path quite clear: the two men she had seen, talking together. In her ear Operations repeated his orders, sounding strident, but she ignored him, moving directly into Michael's path as he came closer. He stared at her coldly and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you from getting yourself killed." she responded tartly, blocking him.

He let out an aggravated sigh and reached out to take her elbow, turning her so that she stood in front of him, leaning in to say into her ear, "Walk up to them and stay in front of me. That way they won't see me until we reach them."

"And then what? Kill them?" she flung over her shoulder at him.

"I think it would be far more fitting for them to suffer through the same process I did." responded Michael grimly and reached up to casually pluck the receiver from behind her ear, tossing it over his shoulder even as a voice came tinnily from it, cutting Operations off in mid-tirade.

Nikita walked slowly to where the two men still stood, dipping a hand into her purse to withdraw the small gun concealed inside and held it at her side as she came up to the pair. The blond turned to look at her, a slow grin creasing his face, and she smiled back at him, the other man turning as well, freezing as Nikita stepped aside and Michael came out from behind her, smiling coldly at him.

"Hello, Pietro."

The blond man cursed and his hand went inside his coat, presumably for a gun, but Michael had already brought his out and shot him, the bullet passing through his hand and into his shoulder, the man collapsing with a shout of pain. Arm extended Michael moved the barrel of the gun so that the sight was on Pietro, finger tightening on the trigger, ignoring the fact that Pietro had his hands up in the classical stance of surrender; around him there were shouts of panic and the steady sound of Lloyd cursing as he lay on the floor but nothing else existed except Pietro in front of him. Pietro with his smile as he stood before the chair Michael sat in, Pietro just watching as Lloyd kicked him and kicked him until a rib cracked, Pietro's voice whispering in his ear as he slumped in the chair urging him to just give in...

"Michael." Nikita's hand on his arm, just that, no attempt to move between him and Pietro, as she had done for that boy J.P., allowing him to make that choice, and he let his arm slowly fall, seeing behind Pietro an operative come to jerk his arms behind his back and handcuff him.

"Wait." Surprisingly the operative--Joseph, he thought his name was--obeyed his command, stopping just as he would of hauled Pietro away, and Michael shifted his attention to Pietro's, hand tightening on his gun as Pietro looked back at him with a self-satisfied smirk and taking a deep breath, resisting the sudden overwhelming urge to smash him in the face with the barrel of his gun. "Where is she?"

"Your lovely Simone?" jeered Pietro with a laugh and Michael took a step toward him, bring ing his other hand up to strike him solidly on the chin, lifting the gun to point it at Pietro's forehead.

"Where?" he repeated.

Pietro laughed again but his eyes were a trifle uneasy. "Or you shoot me? In a room full of witnesses?" He swiveled his head to take in the crowd filing out the doors, ushered out by a combination of hotel staff and Section operatives, not even the ones still close to them would look at the spectacle.

Michael showed his teeth in a smile. "As far as the world is concerned, I don't exist. No one will publish a photo or story about this. Now--" He pressed the muzzle of the gun directly against Pietro's forehead. "Where is she?"

"At the warehouse--cleaning up--"

"Take him." said Michael to Joseph and turned away, stepping directly over Lloyd, who still lay on the floor cursing and clutching his shoulder, two more operatives coming to stand over him. Looking back over his shoulder he could see Operations near the podium and he strode for the main entrance, Nikita hurrying to catch up with him, finally reaching out to grab his arm and pull him to a halt.

"Where are you going?"

"To the warehouse--might still be able to catch a few of them there." Nadia and Bishop came up to flank them and Michael slowly stepped back, keeping them in the line of his sight. "Yes?"

"We're coming with." said Nadia firmly and Bishop gave a nod of agreement.

And then Nikita up beside him as well, loyal to a fault as always, her blue eyes determined as they met his. "Come." he said simply and pushed the doors open to leave the room.