The Bridge

By KT

Copyright February 25, 2002

Time... There never seems to be enough.

Regrets... There always seem to be too many.

Lies... more than enough to go around. But I did the best I could. That much I can say without regret.

Nikita... I always knew she would take precedence above all else. That is why I never met her face to face. Once we met, there were no more options for me. I've had to face the irrevocable fact that I love her more dearly than any other person in the world.

I hated that she had to live on the streets, that she had to be toughened to life in such a brutal way. And now I know what price she has paid: Nikita is deeply angry, and may never be free of that. Even though her eyes accuse me, and justly so, my love remains unshaken, steadfast, strong... stronger than my guilt.

I cannot change my life, but perhaps I can change hers.

To that end, I walk this bridge... the bridge between generations, the bridge to the future.

Would that I could have held my beautiful daughter tenderly in my arms and whispered words of comfort to her. But I could not have taken the first step had I done that. I cannot look back. To do so would be to tempt my Fate, to long to run to her and hold her forever. That time is long past. I must be content with my request and her promise to me.

Would that I could have made a life for her and her mother. But that time is long past as well. I made my choices and have had to live with them. Some I would change, others I would not.

But with each step I take, I fulfill the purpose that the Sections have stood for since they were established: the saving of innocent life at the expense of those dedicated to the cause.

I can leave her now because I have met Michael Samuelle. For years I tracked his every move. For years he was the name on Operations reports, his missions accomplished with death-defying precision, his persona like some intangible superhero. Michael... the perfect operative... the best of the best... a man who kills without remorse. Or so I thought.

Having met him and seen the light he carries for Nikita, his devotion to the cause of Section, the tortured soul that lives in the dark pit behind his eyes... I believe that he is the most selfless man I have ever had the privilege to know.

He promised his life without hesitation to save his son. It is not that he disregards his own safety, or places no value on his own life, but that he loves, more deeply, the things that mean the most to him... his son... my daughter.

It is for Michael and Adam that I now do penance. I could not spend my life with my daughter and be a real father to her, but there is still time for them... Michael can be a father to Adam. Their lives can atone for mine.

I have seen the unwavering dedication that my child feels toward them both, the family she could never have, and her singleminded love for Michael. I have witnessed the depth of their unspoken connection. I believe that Nikita will call on him when she needs his expertise, and use him to help her through the difficult times. And that he will be there for her. Always.

They have learned to lean on each other, have kept each other alive against all odds. They trust each other, in spite of all they have been through, in spite of all the lies and betrayals. They know who they are and what they have. They know where they've been.

They don't know where they're going, but it doesn't matter.

They have survived.

They will continue to survive.

I look down and see Adam pass me with a quick glance and a nervous smile. He is such a dear boy. I hear Michael call out to him, and I hear him answer with joy and wonder. I close my eyes, relief filling my heart as Adam's little running steps grow faint, and the reunion with his father is complete.

Now. I must hold up my end of the bargain. Those of my colleagues who supported me will rejoice. Those who tried to prevent this will be bitterly disappointed. May they have wisdom and understanding.

My tongue presses hard against the roof of my mouth as I activate the device I once offered to Michael. Instantly, I can feel my body begin to grow numb.

One more step... my limbs are becoming heavy... the guns in the hands of my assassins point at my heart and my head. My life slips away...

I am glad that I will not see my daughter's eyes when she beholds my death. I am glad that I will not feel myself fall. I am glad that I will not hear the deadly sound of the weapons being fired, nor feel the bullets as they enter my body.

My knees fail...

My ears are muffled...

My mind grows quiet...

My heartbeat slows...

My breath stops...

The world dims...

Nikita... stay alive! Live!

Nikita...

Ni-...

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

FIN