MICHAEL: I'm at the door.
JASON:  He's at his final mark. Okay, Michael.  We detonate in fifteen seconds. Go.
Michael goes to his last mark as the red numbers on his chest count down. 

From: Four Light Years Farther
Written by Michael Loceff
Transcribed by Jean

My last mark, truly. I never anticipated knowing the exact manner of my long overdue death, only that it would be in the furtherance of Section's work...The work I believe in.

I've given all of my adult life to Section, to use and abuse as they saw fit. It's appropriate somehow that my death is at the behest of my one weakness. A failure? I think not. I loved, and at one time was loved in return. For those moments, I'd do it all again. [Three] I wish we'd...[Two] had more time...[One] Oh, Nikita, why?...[Zero] A-D-a-mmm...

She was dying.

Regret was the one emotion that seemed to be foremost in her mind.

Regret that she had never told him that she loved him.

Regret that her mother had never loved her.

Regret that despite all that she had done, Section would win.

Regret at all the innocents that would continue to suffer.

Regret at the grief that she knew would consume Walter.

Regret at all that might have been.

Regret that despite all she had tried, she had never really made a damn bit of difference.

Regret.......Nikita breathed her last.

BIRKOFF: I can't live knowing that I could die. I'm so scared.
NIKITA: Scared? You've got it backwards. Death's easy-you don't have to do anything. It's life you have to face.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

He tried to appear flip and carefree. But inside he was always scared—scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, scared of not getting what he desired or not knowing what to do if he did get it. He wanted so much for people to like him, but people were unpredictable. He only felt truly comfortable with computers.

They sent him on a mission, armed with a gun he didn't know how to shoot and a mind that didn't want to shoot it. And he learned firsthand that Nikita was right. Compared to his life, his death was easy.

She closes her eyes, a hot twist of pain piercing her chest, her fingernails digging sharply into her palms.

No.

“When?” The word is little more than a ragged hiss.

“This morning.”

Icy tendrils of shock shoot through her veins, her heart staggering. “How?”

“Early intel indicates Black Sky.”

She lifts her hands, helplessly grasping the air between them. “Adam?”

Walter’s face is heavily creased with sorrow. “We lost him too, Sugar.”

She sinks to her knees, a silent scream of grief and anger closing her throat, a clenched fist pressed against her heart.

Nothing.

It was all for nothing.

#1

I should have waited for backup. I always was too impulsive. Now, I can feel the numbness crawling up my body. The child stands there staring at me in horror, all soft and doe-eyed, like his mother. Perhaps, if he is allowed to grow up, he will inherit the iron will of his father. If only I could have saved him. I’ve failed twice now. First, the father and now the son. The man isn’t satisfied with incapacitating me. He doesn’t want to question me, he wants me to die. What a stupid waste! Doesn’t he know who I am?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#2

The news had stunned him…she was dead…killed on a mission. He was alone now, and he couldn’t go on without her. Michael started to squeeze the trigger, "Nikita," he murmured, and then he heard a small voice in his head. "Daddy? I miss you...Why did you leave me? Now Mommy is gone, too, and I'm all alone...I need you." The gun barrel was pressed so tightly against his temple, it left a small round indention on his skin. Michael rubbed absently at the spot as he lowered the gun, closed his eyes and sighed. For Adam, he could go on…

Peace, ever outside her grasp, just as he had been.

Happiness, completely unachievable.

She settled for being competent over the decades, but never ambitious.

Section was all she had. There she stayed. Alone.

She had known the moment he died, felt it. Held it.

His death was peaceful. She watched the funeral over a monitor, thousands of miles away, in countless ways.

*****

Quiet. Blissfully quiet.

Candles lit, bath ran, she skimmed her fingers over his cello a last time.

Warmth as she settled into the bath. The razor slicing pale skin, tinting the water.

Sleep and Peace at last.

#1

She died the same way her predecessor had. In the field, trying to save an innocent. Many in the organization mourned her as, despite the nay sayers, she had proven to be an exceptionally capable and competent leader.

Kate Quinn, Nikita’s second and chosen successor vowed to carry on all that Nikita had taught her in the six years they’d worked together. Walter, still Section’s weapons guru, pledged he’d look after Kate per Nikita’s wishes.

Across the ocean, Michael rejoiced. Death meant freedom.

And just hours after he learned of Nikita’s passing a blonde woman showed up on Michael’s doorstep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#2

All right, I give:

She died the same way her predecessor had. In the field, trying to save an innocent. Many in the organization mourned her as, despite the nay sayers, she had proven to be an exceptionally capable and competent leader.

Kate Quinn, Nikita’s second and chosen successor vowed to carry on all that Nikita had taught her in the six years they’d worked together. Walter, still Section’s weapons guru, pledged he’d look after Kate per Nikita’s wishes.

Across the ocean, Michael smiled sadly upon learning of Nikita’s passing. She’d died the way she’d lived and gained freedom the only way she could.

#1

It took months to collect enough explosive for the job -- after that half-assed attempt on Operations last year they really cracked down on personal weapons. Then he had to wait for the right time, when they’d all be together and he could look them in the eye before he hit the switch and turned his body into a bomb. But finally, the planning paid off and here he was, pretending to listen to another briefing about another bunch of self-important jerks, while he moved his hand inside his sleeve. It took months to prepare, and a second to do.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#2

It’s not really that hard to break your neck.

At first, when they found Madeline on the floor in her office, they suspected a sleeper agent, a mole, or at least an operative bent on retribution. Operations had all of Section locked down, briefed Oversight, and initiated a full quarantine before Birkhoff had a chance to examine the surveillance video. The truth was on the tape, as he watched it over and over -- she slips on the step down into her office and her head snaps back as she hits the floor. She looks surprised.

I’m sorry, Sugar. I’m sorry for lots of things, but mostly for not having the guts to sit down and tell you in person. You’ve seen the lab reports by now, and you know it would have been a long, ugly, and pointless death. I don’t know how the hell I managed to live this long anyway, but I’ll be damned if I spend my last few months hooked up to machines because you can’t bring yourself to cancel me. Trust me, sweetheart, it’s better this way. Keep fighting the good fight, and tell Michael he’s a lucky bastard.

Walter

#1

“Where the Hell am I?”

“Welcome …”.

Walter looked up and saw a beautiful apparition before him. It looked like his Sugar, but with an aura around them. Hardly believing his eyes he just managed to say. “I … I … I must be in ...”

“You … are,” was the soothing reply.

“I never expected to make it to the 5% club in the sky.” Then tentatively he asked, “I died happy?”

“Here take a look.”

His body lay on the bed. A huge smile was plastered all over his face.

“Ahhh! I remember now!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#2

I had always been the one in control.

I decided who lived or died.

I held the power of life and death for abeyance operatives and terrorists.

It was I who gave the order for their torture.

Their cancellation!

Their death!

I never gave a thought to the consequences of my actions.

What I did, I did for the Section.

I had no remorse, no compunction for the lives I sent to the Hereafter.

But now it is different.

The Grim Reaper has come for me.

Do I have a choice?

Yes … I do!

The bullet pierced the brain.

Ah, achieving the impossible is so satisfying. Amazing what a little psychotropic drug can do...well, that and piercing a man's Achilles' heel.

Eliminating the child so easily was an unexpected stroke of pure luck. But it was simultaneously hitting the father in that precise moment, just as the realization reached his brain, that made him theirs. Instantaneous grief, madness, collapse...then one swift dart, laden with the new formula...

Later they'd watch through his eyes as he approached her...see her delight...shock...confusion...terror...blood...

Then the gun in reverse. Screen to static...

The rest fell like dominoes.