The Color Of The Day
"Done and all done", said Jason.
"Great work," says Nikita. "Now you can have that well deserved
rest. Two days of no sleep, but you were the only one that could
have done it."
"I know. I need it. All in two days work", Jason says as he gets up
from his chair and walks out of Comm.
"You get some sleep as well," Quinn says as she sits down into the
vacated seat. "Michael returned yesterday afternoon and can take over
Section while you rest.
"When he is here is when I will go", says Nikita harshly. Maybe too
harshly. She has been awake for over two days and has been running
three piggyback missions and talking with other Section heads as well
as Interpol and CIA higher-up personnel and being worried about Jason
doing his job.
Michael walks up behind her and asks, "I am here to take over.
What's the status?"
"Jason fixed the computer virus that could have infected the web and
it turned out to be easier to handle than expected, but it took 36
hours to find it."
"Good, you go get some sleep, my darling."
"Okay, I will."
They walk to the entranceway and Michael takes her in his arms and
kisses her.
Nikita knows that everyone in Section knows that she and Michael are
a couple but it is still not proper to show it on the main floor.
"Sweet dreams, my love". Michael says and turns to go back to Comm.
"I hope so, what time is it anyway?"
"About four. Now go."
She goes.
Nikita is walking slowly through the corridors of Section. Almost in
a daze.
Daze. Days. She has been up since Saturday morning. Two and a half
days. The lights are shining brightly today aren't they? Or is it
her imagination. She was in Comm for most of that time so maybe the
lighting has affected her vision. She goes through her door and sees
the bed and just falls onto it.
She thinks that if she can just stay awake a bit longer then sleep
will take her for sure. Think of something. Don't be in a daze.
Days. Lighting. Light. Color. Colors of the days. She is asleep
now. She knows it but also knows she can stop her sleep and wake up
at anytime. Daze. Color. Days. The color of a day.
She remembers the first day in Section. It was a Wednesday. 5.AM.
She now thinks of it as green. A green for go day. She awoke that
day with Michael in her sight. Green eyes looking at her. Beautiful
eyes. Was she dreaming? No, she wasn't. Green eyes. The start of
her Section life. Green – Go-Wednesday.
What's next? Thursday? A blue? Something must have made a day blue
for her. Something must have happened on a Thursday. Then it came
to her. One of the saddest days she has ever had. A good man had
shot her. But he had to. She had asked him to. Helmut. Helmut had
shot her. Helmut. An undercover Interpol agent. Selling guns and
weapons but working for Interpol and his father and brother thought
he was evil. It turned out his brother was the real evil and his
father never knew that the good son was bad and the bad son was
best. It was a sad day because she had married him for the mission.
He had married her for his mission. The two had married each other
for the right wrong reasons and were falling in love for the right
right reasons. His superiors had told him to let something happen
that would kill hundreds of people. He couldn't let it happen. That
is why he was a good man. But she had asked him to shoot her so he
could get away. Maybe she should have asked Section to bring him
in. Like they did to Marco O'Brien. But she knew that it was safer
if he was out and away. This way at least one of them was safe.
Wonder what he is doing now? She had heard that he had found a way
to give and receive information to Interpol. Still fighting the
right fight. That was a blue Thursday though. The man she was
growing to love had shot her. Just because she had asked him to.
A Friday? Not a black Friday , but a very dark one. The first time
she had seen Mick Shtoppel. From then on, she had seen him
everywhere. At her apartment. At his apartment. Secret meetings
around the city. Even once or twice across the channel in England
while she was on missions. All secret because he was Mr Jones. The
head of Section. The head of all the Sections. The head of Centre.
Ever since he had met Mick Shtoppel, the sleazy man, she had been
dark towards him. No, not him. Dark towards the Mr Jones part of
him. Shtoppel was the good colorful character. Jones was the dark
one. She almost woke up with the funny though of. Our man Friday.
Our man Black Friday. Almost woke up. She just wished herself to
rest again. And she did. For what felt like days.
Days. Daze. She felt herself drift into the dream state again. Now
purple was all she could see. The color of passion. She thought red
was the color of passion but purple came into view. Purple is almost
as strong as red. The day? Saturday, of course. When she and
Michael had left Section together almost eighteen months ago. For
weeks. Every day had felt like a Saturday. Not that in Section you
have weekends. It felt like before Section. Where there were
weekends. And she and him were on the longest weekend. Weeks out of
Section. She knew it wouldn't last because Jones would not let her
go for ever. It would last as long as it lasted. It lasted as long
as it did. Months? Weeks? A day? Yes. A day. A Saturday. The
purple one.
Thinking of Jones brought her to thinking of the other Mr Jones. Her
father. She won't think of him as the `real' Mr Jones as she still
didn't know which was the real one or if there even was one. But it
was her father she thought of now. He had a voice and the manner of
a preacher. A reverend. A reverend for a calm day. What should be
a calm day. A Sunday. But it was a rough day. Blood red. His
blood. The day that was tough but she handled it well. The day that
her father died. At that bridge. The Collective had bargained him
for Adam, Michael's son. It was the only time that Section had given
in to terrorists. Any sort of terrorism. Her father was killed
right there. Shot and the blood ran red from the fatal wound. Adam
was safe. She had been given the command key. She was in charge the
second he had given it to her.
The next day was Monday. What was she to do? Her father was dead.
Killed at that bridge. She was in charge of Section. She could
destroy it from the inside. She couldn't do that though. Section
was there to save. Not destroy. There for those that couldn't.
There to get those that no-one else could get. It was like she was
at an orange traffic light. She could stop or she could speed up.
That's what orange lights are for. To make a driver stop or go
faster. She must move on. The orange had become green. Monday had
become Wednesday. Missing out on a day completely. Now? The day she
was resting on. It must be Tuesday now. It seems like I have slept
a lot. I went to bed at 4 on Monday so it must be Tuesday. Oh well.
I'll wake when I wake. She slept a while longer. Remembering,
wanting to forget but remembering. All those missions she had been
on. All those operative's lives lost. Not wasted, lost. So others
could live. The others that don't know about those not here now. Is
there a way to remember them? Not just a mark on the wall like at
the CIA. Is there a way to put their names in the memory of the
world? No, maybe not names. Maybe faces, or their words? Anything
that showed they were here. She remembered a museum. Not that she
goes to those places now. There is no rest for Section people. We
miss out so others can get it. At the museum. a piece of a tree had
a bug in it. The sap had flowed over the bug, trapping it forever.
What was it called? It was a yellowy color. A…
"NIKITA", it was Quinn's voice. Shouting at her through a speaker
somewhere.
"What?" she shouted back. Still her eyes were closed. "What is it?"
"We'll need you. Now! Soon! Probably sooner." There was a tension
in her voice. A tension she had not heard before. "Turn on your
screen. NOW!"
Nikita reached over and turned on the screen. She had done it so
many time before in her sleep, she did it again. She hadn't opened
her eyes yet.
She heard Michael come in. He saw her eyes were closed. He knew she
was awake though. The screen had been turned on.
"Nikita. Something has happened. You have to open your eyes."
She heard a difference in Michael's voice. Not a tension like
Quinn's, but something different. Something important. She opened
her eyes and watched the picture move on the screen. She couldn't
believe it. It could not be happening. It could not have happened.
"What am I watching? When did this happen? What time is it now?"
Ask questions. More than one if needed. All in a row. Quick
questions that get quick answers. Section training.
"Live television feed, seen worldwide by now. The first happened
about twenty minutes ago. It is now just after midday. You have
been asleep for almost twenty hours." Concise. Answer all questions
in order. Section training.
The name of the sap came to her. It was amber. `Trapped forever,
like a bug in amber', that was the saying. She watched the screen
again. Still could not believe what she was seeing. She was out the
door with Michael walking next to her. She knew the color of the day.