La Femme Nikita: My Soul to Keep Chapter 9 By, Rosemary Warrington Codename: Deveraux Michael climbs out of the limo. He looks up at the warehouse in front of him. The place appears to be abandoned, but Section sources say differently. As he walks toward the door, he tries to shake the feeling of apprehension that had been plaguing him since leaving Section One. "Are you getting this, Birkoff?," he murmurs. "Every inch, Michael. The visual is clear," Birkoff responds, making a few adjustments to his computer. "What about you, Daria? Are you receiving?" "Got it. Nikita?" "Check. Let's do this, Michael," she says, attempting to quell her own nervousness. Daria swallows. She’d heard the tension in her friend's voice. Nikita and Michael shouldn't be nervous. This is a walk in the park for them. It's routine. "I'm going in," Michael says, entering the warehouse. "All right, Ladies. Michael's in play. Nikita, wait for the signal. Daria, keep your ears open," Birkoff says. "I've got it, Birkoff. Maintain the visual. Nikita, you go in after Michael is out of there. Remember, they're all expendable. You're objective is to stop the hit," Daria says. "I'm on it," Nikita responds. "Going silent," Daria says, turning off her microphone. It's time for her to sit back and listen as the mission unfolds. There’s nothing she can do now, except give Nikita the signal when Michael is clear. Michael turns around in the center of the large warehouse. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up. Something is definitely wrong here. Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming toward him. He looks at the man coming out of the shadows. Instantly, Michael recognizes him as Juliano Matisse. A look of shock passes quickly over Michael's features, but he recovers quickly. Juliano Matisse was an operative, supposedly killed on a mission four years before. This can't be. He's dead. "Hello, Michael," Matisse says, smoothly. Daria switches her mic back on. "What in the hell is going on in there, Birkoff? Michael’s cover's blown," Daria says. No response. Birkoff is busy watching the scene unfold. He can see Matisse walking toward Michael. "Matisse," Michael says, by way of greeting. Michael watches as the other man pulls out his gun. Pointing it at Michael, he laughs. "You never thought you'd see me again, did you?," he asks, coldly. "I thought you were dead. What are you doing here?," Michael asks, stalling for time. "You left me for dead, Michael." "I had no choice." "The hell you didn't! You were my partner, yet you left me there to die!," Juliano shouts, coming closer. Before Michael can react, Matisse fires. The bullet strikes Michael in the chest. He falls back from the impact. "Team two move in! Michael's down," Daria orders, not even waiting for word from Birkoff. "Get Michael out of there NOW! Birkoff, get me the visual." Suddenly, the computer screen is transformed and Daria sees the face of this trained killer. She can hear Michael's rapid breathing loud in her ear. "Juliano, you don't want to do this," Michael says, slowly. He can feel the blood pouring out of his body, the darkness threatening at the edges of his conscious mind. Without responding, Matisse fires again. Daria jumps, the gunshot loud in her ears. The face of the killer changes to that of a madman. Her anger surges. I don't who in the hell you are, but you've crossed the line. She picks up the phone and dials Ops' office. Operations lifts the receiver. He knows who it is without even hearing her voice. "Daria, what is it?," he demands, his voice menacing. "The mission went sour. Michael's down. Team two is on the way in," she replies. "How many are there?" "One. Who is Matisse? He knows Michael." "Damn! I'll explain later. Tell Nikita to take him alive. I want him brought back here and canceled. I'm going to watch the sonofabitch die personally," Ops says, slamming down the receiver. "Nikita, change in plans. Bring Matisse back alive. Operations gave the order," Daria says. She can still hear Michael's harsh breathing. Looking at the screen, she can see Matisse staring down at Michael. She swallows convulsively, in an attempt to bury her anger. Damn it! I should be there with him. Michael, don't you die on me. Daria closes her eyes and draws a calming breath. She wipes away a lone tear. No, crying won't help now. Keep your head, Daria. Losing your cool now could only get them killed. Michael's strong. Trust Nikita; she'll bring him out. She has to. Suddenly, the computer screen goes blank, only to be replaced by Birkoff's image. "Daria, we lost the visual," he says, calmly. "Damn! Michael, I don't know if you can still hear me, but hang in there. It's going to be all right," she says. No response. At that moment, she hears sounds of a struggle. Another shot. "Daria, we've got him. Tell Ops Matisse is wounded, but alive. Nothing fatal, unfortunately," Nikita says grimly. "Michael?," Daria asks. Please just let him be all right. God, please just let him live. Nikita walks over to Michael's prone form in the center of the room. She can see his blood pooling on the floor. She kneels down in front of him. He opens his eyes. "Daria, it's bad. He's alive, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep him that way," Nikita says, fighting back her own tears. Daria blinks. "That’s not what I wanted to hear. Is he conscious?," she asks, quietly. "Yes,...I....am," he says, fighting for every word. Daria smiles. "Nikita, Birkoff, turn off your comm sets for a minute. What I have to say is meant for Michael alone," Daria says. She gives them a minute to switch them off. "Michael, you're going to be okay." "Always," he answers, using all his strength to focus on the sound of her voice. Losing consciousness is not an option. Daria is waiting. "You have to hang in there, Michael. Please. I can't lose you, not now," she says, tearfully. "You....crying?," he asks. "Don't." "I won't, if you stay strong. You can do this. I'll see you when you get back. Tell Nikita to get back here." Michael taps Nikita. She turns her comm set back on. "Daria, you still there?," she asks. "Yeah, I'm here. Keep an eye on him. The med techs are on standby. I'll see you when you come in." Daria ends the connection. She takes off her headset and places her elbows on the table. She puts her head in her hands and draws a deep breath. Stay strong, Daria. Michael needs you. You'll be with him soon.