LA FEMME NIKITA
Simone

#103 "Simone"
Written by: Michael Loceff
Directed by: Jerry Ciccoritti
Edited by: Eric Goddard
Transcript archived at TWIZ TV.COM
Originally posted at Flash Mission
Transcribed by: Jean

 

OVER AIRPORT/GLASS CURTAIN

Opera dominates the auditory senses.  A small plane with twin red engines flies through clouds and blue sky. The pilot makes preparations for landing, speaking with the controller at the airport.

PILOT: South Haven, this is mooney-three-three-golf.

CONTROLER: (via radio) Mooney-three-three-golf, South Haven. We have you level at 5,000.

PILOT: Rog. Request vectors, full-stop landing runway three-two.

CONTROLER: (via radio) Copy, three-three-golf. Turn right heading two-seven-zero descend to 3,000. Altimeter two-niner-niner-two.

PILOT:  Three three golf right to two seven oh.  Decent to three thousand, two nine nine two.

Cut to a glowing green computer graphic.  Two red blips pulse along parallel paths.  A young woman with a tortured hair, darkly ringed eyes and a nose ring sits at the computer: Siobhan.  A man with greasy hair – Sparks – stands by her.  He is wearing black; black pants, boots, and a black suit coat with nothing under it, revealing his emaciated-looking chest.

SPARKS:  How far apart are they?

SIOBHAN:  Exactly one mile. They're both inbound.

SPARKS:  On a convergent path?

She nods.  He brushes past her.

SPARKS:  Very. Good.  (he climbs a steel ladder)  Turn it up! (the opera swells and he closes his eyes rapturously)

Cut to pilot in his plane.

CONTROL TOWER: (via radio) Three-three-golf, you are cleared final runway three-two. Winds three-three-zero at 15. Be advised visibility is reduced on final half mile.

PILOT:  Roger, South Haven. I don't see the field insight. Continue vectors.

TOWER:  Turn left two-seven-zero. Descending.

PILOT:  Roger. Descending.

Cut to Glass Curtain’s operations.

SPARKS:  How much longer?

SIOBHAN: Any second now.

Cut to pilot.

TOWER:  Three-three-golf, you’re lined up runway three-two, cleared to land.

PILOT:  I have field visual this time, Southhaven. Cleared to land.

Cut to Glass Curtain’s operations.  Sparks remains standing at the top of ladder, staring at nothing and listening to the opera, waiting.  The glowing monitor shows the red blips moving closer and closer together until they merge.

Cut to pilot.  He is looking around, watchful but complacent; this is a routine landing.  Suddenly, a jet swoops out of the clouds.  There is not time to do more than gape in horror before they collide. A mighty fireball fills the sky over Safehaven Airport.  In the control tower, a flight controller stares in disbelief, lowering his binoculars, open-mouthed as he watches the debris fall to the ground.

Sparks’ face is superimposed over the fireball.

SPARKS:  It begins.

NIKTIA’S APARTMENT

Fast techno dance music plays on Nikita’s headphones.  She is sculpting a fish out of colored wires, moving them with pliers.  A knock sounds.  She frowns slightly, puzzled, and sets down her artwork before she approaches the door, pliers behind her back, ready for defense.  After she looks through the peephole, she opens the door. Carla stands there, smiling wanly.

NIKITA:  Carla, what's wrong?

CARLA: (her voice is shaky with emotion) I just need someone to talk to.

NIKITA: (hugs Carla sympathetically) What's wrong?

CARLA: Well, he's getting married. (she moves into the kitchen)

NIKITA:  Married?

CARLA: Yeah, to his ex-girlfriend who he also happened to be dating the last three months that we were going out.  When I think of all the excuses that he made to cancel...You know, he's the one who told me that he didn't want the commitment.

The phone burbles once, twice.  Carla’s hands twist together.

NIKITA: I'm sorry, Carla, I've got to get it.  (Nikita picks up the phone)  Hello?

MICHAEL:  Josephine.

Nikita blinks and turns away from her friend, unhappy with the summons.

WAR ROOM

Michael, Nikita, Morrison and Koi sit at the table across from Operations.  Operations is wearing a black turtleneck, Michael a pastel tee shirt under a dark jacket, and Nikita is wearing light blue under navy.

OPERATIONS: As you know, the Internet is frequently monitored for any communication that is interpreted as a national breech of security. Two days ago, we detected the recruiting efforts of a group we've encountered in the past - Glass Curtain.

Michael looks suddenly at Operations, his attitude of nonchalance instantly vanished.

MICHAEL:  I thought they were inactive.

OPERATIONS:  (returns the loaded look) So did we. Unfortunately, they're not just recruiting. There has been an incident which was originally thought to be an accident caused by human error, but Glass Curtain has claimed responsibility.  This politics of...chaos and destruction is the brainchild of this man here: Errol Sparks. (the image and data concerning Errol Sparks springs to life from the middle of the table)  His message is anarchy, and his weapon is technology. (while Operations speaks, Michael fidgets, shifting his weight in the chair, and pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Nikita notices this strange behavior) He has a capable group of malcontents who do all his dirty work. These are college students, Mensa members, dropouts...They're all highly skilled and willing devotees. Birkoff will give you --

MICHAEL:  (interrupting) We don't need the history lesson. Just give us the relevant data and let's move.

OPERATIONS: The last time I checked on the protocol for briefings, it didn't include disruptive behavior. (looks at Michael)  Birkoff is monitoring the situation now. We hope to have a hook on it soon. Now, until then, we're going to be on close-quarter standby. No one leaves the Section. (he stands)  Morrison, you and Koi report to Comm. See Birkoff.

Operations marches off.  Michael follows him.  Nikita eavesdrops as they speak together, voices low and ardent with disagreement.

MICHAEL:  I should be first team on this.

OPERATIONS:  You and Nikita will anchor for me here.

MICHAEL:  You don't think I can do this?

OPERATIONS:  No, I don't. You're too emotionally vested.

Operations stalks off, but Michael prevents him from going far.

MICHAEL: Listen to me…

OPERATIONS:  (lower volume, intense) If you can convince me in ten seconds that you can do that, you can do it, Michael...(Michael begins to speak; Operations cuts him off) just look me in the eye. Don't say a damn word.

For several long moments they stand facing each other, staring at each other.  Operations’ gaze crackles with challenge, Michael stands still as stone, rock steady.

OPERATIONS:  (to Michael) Fine. (he moves back into the briefing area) Morrison, you and Koi will be Team Two. Nikita, you go with Michael.

Michael and Nikita approach Comm together, talking.

NIKITA:  Who's Glass Curtain, Michael?

MICHAEL: You heard Operations.

They pause behind Birkoff.

NIKITA:  This guy Sparks; do you know him?

MICHAEL:  I'll fill you in when I'm ready. (he moves to stand next to Birkoff)

NIKITA:  Then what was that about?

MICHAEL:  (to Birkoff) What have you got?

BIRKOFF:  It's an IRC in progress.

NIKITA:  What's an IRC?

BIRKOFF:  (sarcastically chiding, he looks up at Nikita) Someone wasn't paying attention in computer class.

Michael slaps him on the back of his head, hard.

MICHAEL:  (no nonsense) Not today.

BIRKOFF:  (forgoes the horsing around) It’s a chat room. A place where social misfits log onto the Internet and argue with each other.

MICHAEL:  Which one is Glass Curtain?

BIRKOFF: This guy right here, Hester. The dude is laying some heavy ideology on these freaks.

NIKITA:  Anything about the plane crash?

BIRKOFF:  Yeah. He brags about it every other minute. They're eating it up.

MICHAEL:  How do we get to this guy Hester?

BIRKOFF:  We can't from here. He's using a dynamic address scheme.

MICHAEL:  Can we log into the conversation? Pretend to be a new recruit?

BIRKOFF: (shakes his head and rolls his chair from one computer to another)  From what I can tell, you have to have a sponsor, someone on the inside. They give you a password. That lets you into the group.

MICHAEL:  Can you locate one of them?

BIRKOFF:  Already did. (swings back to the first computer) This guy right here, J.B.

The chat shows J.B.’s text: ‘I’ve got what we talked about…’

MICHAEL:  (softly, suppressing impatience) All right, let's go.

Michael launches out of Comm, Birkoff and Nikita in tow.  Throughout the entire rapid-fire exchange of questions and answers, Nikita watched him closely.

EXTERIOR: VIDEO ARCADE

The van is parked in an empty lot.  Inside, Birkoff, Nikita, and Michael prepare to capture J.B.  Birkoff sits behind a computer, Nikita sits next to him.  Michael stands.

BIRKOFF:  J.B.'s in there.

MICHAEL:  Where?

BIRKOFF: I flagged his screen. It'll flash red just like mine.

NIKITA:  I don't see any flashing red.

Birkoff hands her a pair of red glasses, mildly impatient for her ignorance.  She puts them on. The bluish monitor screen suddenly flushes deep red, and then clears, and repeats again and again.

MICHAEL:  Cover the exits. We're going in.

Cut to exterior of a fancy arcade.  A slow techno beat punctuates their walk as Michael and Nikita approach the building.  The structure is rounded, designed to catch the eye with flashy colors and provocative curves.  Michael and Nikita enter together through a jagged door and begin the search for J.B.  Nikita has a wandering and appreciative eye for the twinkling lights, violent noise and chaotic images emanating from video games all around her.  Wow, she says.  Michael stalks, serious and focused, ignoring the riotous kaleidoscope of color and shoving between two young men.  Nikita jogs upstairs while Michael continues searching the bottom floor.

NIKITA:  Nothing on this end of the balcony.

Cut to Birkoff in van.  He monitors on his computer, sitting casually with his feet up.

Cut back to the arcade.  Michael continues his search of the main floor.  Nikita walks further along the upper tier.  She spies the flash of red in a nearby monitor.  A young man with dark hair and a beret is keying in words; he’s chatting, grinning in response to the scrolling text.

NIKITA:  Got him, Michael.

MICHAEL:   Flush him, Birkoff.

Birkoff punches a few keys. Within seconds his search protocols find J.B.’s station.  Birkoff snickers as he springs the virtual trap.  In the arcade, J.B.'s screen dissolves, re-coalescing into an official-looking and menacing warning from the FBI.

J.B.: (to himself, worried) FBI?

He slides out of his seat and ducks away.  Nikita watches him, then follows.

NIKITA:  Going south.

J.B. trots down the steps toward the exit.  Michael folds himself into the space and stares boldly at J.B.  Sensing this dark apparition is hunting him J.B. reverses his course and cuts through rows of video games, making his way to a back corridor.  Two section operatives, a man and a woman, step into his path.  He turns around to retrace his steps, but Michael blocks his way.  He pushes through the wall of the hall -- it’s a revolving panel, but the two ops flank and grab him.

J.B.: (struggling) Let go of me!

Michael walks in and removes his glasses.

MICHAEL:  (folds his glasses and carefully puts them in his jacket pocket) Who's your contact at Glass Curtain?

J.B.: I don't know! I wasn't even going to join. I was just goofing with them.

Michael smacks him hard, three times.

MICHAEL: You were in the IRC. How did you get the password?

J.B.: (desperate, hysterical) They contacted me! I never met any of them!

Michael stalks away from him, fighting growing frustration.

MICHAEL:  (his back is to J.B.. he speaks loudly) Who is your contact?

J.B.: I said I don't know!

Michael spins around, pulls out his gun and points it at J.B.  Nikita launches herself from the side; immobilizing his gun arm then spinning him back around.  She throws his arm down and he spreads both arms.  He is clearly distraught.

NIKITA: No! Michael...What are you doing?

Michael moves forward, emotion moving his body rather than volition.  Nikita puts herself between Michael and J.B.  Michael paces a few moments more, then gestures to J.B. with his gun.

MICHAEL: (to the two operatives) Take him to Birkoff. Get the password.

The operatives take J.B. away as Michael walks around, some suppressed emotion roiling within.  He holsters his gun and puts a clenched fist to his mouth.  Nikita follows him, angry.

NIKITA:  (demanding) Why? Why?

Michael raises his hand from mouth to pinch the bridge of his nose, pained.  He stares out the window.

MICHAEL:  (woodenly) Glass Curtain killed Simone.

 NIKITA: (shrugs insolently) Who's Simone?

 MICHAEL:  (faces her briefly) My wife.

Michael turns and walks off.  Nikita shifts uncomfortably as she processes the information.

GLASS CURTAIN

Exterior shot of Glass Curtain’s base: the entrance is a concrete tunnel set into a grassy space – the entire complex is underground.  Cut to interior.  Opera music languidly fills the air.  Siobhan stares raptly absorbed in her computer monitor until a computer card dangles in front of her face.  She never bothers to acknowledge the young man holding it.

SIOBHAN:  (to the computer card, with admiration) Oh, look at you.

She takes it and quickly begins to install it into her computer.  Sparks approaches the pair at the computer.

SPARKS: Did Leon ask any questions?

THE MAN:  He was too busy counting the money.

Siobhan pushes the board into its new home.

SIOBHAN:  Let's put you in.

SPARKS:  How long before you can Q-A it?

SIOBHAN: This baby's plug-and-play. (she closes the drawer and starts keying in commands until a map appears on the monitor) There it is; O'Hare Airport. Every electronic pathway from radar control to men's room light switch.

SPARKS:  Is it live?

 SIOBHAN: Let's see. (Siobhan keys in commands until she finds what she requires, and then dials a number sitting next to her computer)

WOMAN’S VOICE:  O'Hare Maintenance.

SIOBHAN:  (with a nasal accent) Yeah, this is the cafeteria. Did you guys just order some sandwiches?

The young man laughs.

WOMAN:  Sandwiches? Uh, I didn't, but hang on. I'll check.  (Siobhan activates  the fire alarm)  Is that the fire alarm?

Siobhan disconnects the connection and looks up.  The young man smiles; impressed.

SIOBHAN:  It'll be 20 minutes before they realize it's a false alarm.

Sparks leans over Siobhan and stares at her meaningfully.

SPARKS:  Siobhan, I love your flair for the dramatic.

SIOBHAN: (with complete devotion) O’Hare is yours. Just tell me what you want.

Sparks says nothing but looks at the screen as if sizing up his choices.

SECTION ONE: MICHAEL’S OFFICE

Michael walks into his office, Nikita just behind him.  He sits down behind his desk while Nikita remains at the door.  Outside his window, people gracefully move together in a choreographed martial arts exercise, a strangely peaceful counterpart to the tension in the office.

NIKITA:  It's been 24 hours. What now?

MICHAEL:  Wait until J.B.'s contact gets online.

Nikita takes a drink from the stainless steel mug she carries and then looks up at Michael.

NIKITA:  Do you want me here?

Michael raises his head and returns her gaze neutrally.

MICHAEL:  Whatever you want.

Nikita stares a moment, closes the door, and sits in the other chair.

NIKITA:  (carefully) Did Simone work for the Section?  (she takes another drink. When Michael fails to answer her, she continues in her usual forthright manner)  Michael, you can't tell me you had a wife and she was killed then just drop it, get back to business.

MICHAEL:  (calmly, slowly) Simone...was an operative. She did work for the Section. It was supposed to be a cold mission. The two of us went in to gather information about Glass Curtain. Before we left, she asked for a back up team. I said it wasn't necessary. (they hold a look) I was wrong.

 NIKITA:  Was it Sparks?

MICHAEL:  (looking out the window) I don't know. We were ambushed. There was a lot of shooters. It was three years ago.

NIKITA:  It still hurts, doesn't it?

MICHAEL:  (leans forward, speaks with mild resentment) Listen, Nikita, you asked me what happened...and I told you.

NIKITA:  You told me the facts. Michael, I want to know how you feel. Sometimes you have to let yourself trust someone. I'm right here.

About to speak, Michael is interrupted when Walter knocks and enters.

WALTER: Hester's finally logged in.  Turns out J.B. has something they want.

MICHAEL:  What is it?

WALTER:  An electrical layout to Orly Airport.

MICHAEL: How did J.B. get that?

WALTER:  He stole it from his father, civil engineer. Hester wants to see J.B. in three hours.

MICHAEL: Good. Let's get ready. (he gets up)

WALTER:  Operations wants Nikita posing as J.B. -- not you. Feels that Nikita would be more believable as disaffected youth.

A GRASSY FIELD/SECTION ONE: COMM

Nikita stands in a field.  She’s wearing an orange coat with a hood and clear ski-goggles over yellow-tinted sunglasses.  She’s chewing gum and blowing bubbles, moving around restlessly, going over her mission persona.  In Section, Birkoff sits at his computer station, snacking while he monitors the mission.  Michael lurks over his shoulder, earpiece in place. They converse with Nikita through the com units.

NIKITA:  What's J.B.'s favorite writer's name? Who was he? Tyranny of the State?

BIRKOFF:  (munching) Bakunin.

NIKITA:  That's right. Bakunin.

MICHAEL:  Don't worry. If you're stuck, we'll feed you.

Nikita watches a helicopter fly over her head.

BIRKOFF: Tilt your head higher. I don't have all of it.

NIKITA:  Birkoff, can you see him?

The overhead monitor shows what Nikita sees through the camera in her glasses. Birkoff and Michael see the helicopter.

BIRKOFF:  That's it.

The helicopter lands in front of Nikita and the pilot gets out. Nikita picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder.

RAY-COPTER PILOT:  You J.B.?

NIKITA:  Hester?

RAY:  No. Name's Ray. Franklin Charter. I'm supposed to pick up a J.B.

Birkoff and Michael watch and listen to everything Nikita’s glasses and com unit transmit to the monitor.

NIKITA:  I'm J.B.

RAY: You alone?

NIKITA: Yep. Just me.

MICHAEL:  (to Nikita) Get closer to him. Stand still. We need to verify this guy.

Nikita takes a few steps forward. The man asks,

RAY:  What are you waiting for? Get in.

NIKITA:  I've never been in a helicopter before. I'm a little nervous.

RAY:  Don't be. You're in good hands.

MICHAEL:  Not yet, Nikita.

RAY:  Come on. I haven't got all day. The clock's ticking.  (he climbs into the pilot’s seat)

BIRKOFF:  Come on, come on… There it is.

MICHAEL:  That's him. You're clear.

Nikita walks around to the other side of the helicopter and gets in.

NIKITA:  Where are we going?

RAY:  I can't tell you that. Put these on.  (Nikita puts on the headphones he gestures to)

MICHAEL:  Zero margin for error.

From Glass Curtain, Sparks reaches out and speaks to Nikita.  He sits next to Siobhan at the circular tower of computers wearing a headset.  Through his radio he speaks to Nikita, unknowing that he can also be heard by Michael and Birkoff in Section.  Nikita is in the middle of all these radio transmissions.

SPARKS:  J.B., I presume.

NIKITA:  Hello?

SPARKS:  Interesting. From the transcript, you sound more like a man.

 NIKITA:  Is this Hester?

SPARKS:  Close enough.  Do you have Orly?

NIKITA:  Yeah.

SPARKS:  Tell me about yourself, J.B.

NIKITA:  I'm not committing to anything yet.

SPARKS:  Oh...you're committed, all right. I understand you spiked the punch bowl with LSD at your junior prom.

NIKITA:  Where'd you hear that?

SPARKS:  Tell me about it.

Birkoff searches the data for anything about the LSD incident.  He finds nothing and shakes his head at Michael.

MICHAEL:  Never happened.

NIKITA:  Nothing to tell. Didn't do it.

SPARKS:  My apologies. I mistook you for one of my recruits. Tell me about your eighth grade math teacher.

NIKITA:  I put her in jail for failing me.

SPARKS:  How on earth did you do that?

Nikita hesitates.

BIRKOFF:  You hacked into the county records and issued a bench warrant.

NIKITA:  I hacked into county records and issued a bench warrant.

SPARKS:  One more question, J.B.  What kind of music do you like?

NIKITA:  (to herself) Music?

Birkoff shakes his head since he found nothing.

MICHAEL:  (to Nikita) Nothing here.

A second ticks by, then another and another.  Nikita’s face suddenly relaxes into a tight smile of satisfaction.

NIKITA:  I don't listen to music.

SPARKS:  Why not?

NIKITA:  Music evokes emotion.

SPARKS:  Emotion spawns genius.

NIKITA: Emotion blurs judgment.

Sparks waits a beat, then nods slightly to Siobhan.  During the entire interview she had the helicopter on a collision course with a plane and now changes the flight path information to read accurately.

MAN:  (via radio) Jet Ranger 45-Alpha; descend immediately.

RAY:  What?

MAN:  (ovia radio) Drop the nose fast!

Ray puts the helicopter into a steep dive.  A plane screams over them -  a near-miss.

RAY:  (yelling) Where the hell did he come from?

SPARKS:  See you in a few minutes, J.B.

Nikita shakes her head and looks down, disgusted.

CLASS CURTAIN

A young man escorts Nikita into the bowels of Glass Curtain’s domain.  The surroundings are dirty, old, industrial.

YOUNG MAN:  What does J.B. stand for? 'Juicy Bod'?

He stretches, hands behind head, bowing dramatically.  He yanks out a strand of his hair.

NIKITA:  What is this place?

The young man places his hair on the flat plate of a locking device on an air-tight metal door.  Light scans the hair up and down and then flashes DNA VERIFIED.

YOUNG MAN:  You'll see.

The lock clicks and the man opens the door.  He gestures gallantly for Nikita to go first.  They walk through rooms and halls, stairs and pathways.  Opera music can faintly be heard. They come into a room where Siobhan is tossing something in Sparks' top hat as he lays with it on his chest on the couch. The young man presents Nikita with a dramatic flourish.

SPARKS:  So this is J.B.

Sparks stands up and puts on his hat, arms crossed. Nikita smiles at him. Sparks shakes his head and Nikita's smile fails. Siobhan looks up from her seat in the shadows.

NIKITA:  What's wrong?

SPARKS:  Something about the way you look.

NIKITA:  Why? What's wrong with the way I "look"?

Sparks jumps over the couch.

SPARKS:  Like someone who's been forgiven her entire life.

Nikita tilts her head down a little and shakes her head.

NIKITA:  I don't need forgiveness from anyone, including you.

Sparks smiles.

SPARKS:  You see, Siobhan. It's in the eyes. There it is.  (he chucks her under her chin) Good.

YOUNG MAN:  She brought the plans.

SPARKS:  Check it out, Siobhan.

She gets up and goes to her computer.

NIKITA:  And don't do a virus scan. The header block's designed to launch itself --

 SIOBHAN:  Don't tell me what to do.

NIKITA:   --if it detects a probe.

YOUNG MAN:  Let's go.

SPARKS:   J.B. You're a long way from home...underground at the mercy of a crazed revolutionary.  Why aren't you afraid?

NIKITA: Who says I'm not?

Sparks approaches her abruptly and stares into her eyes for several long moments.  He stoops down, picks up her glove, and hands it to her. They share a look, holding it for several beats until Sparks takes his top hat off.  Nikita smiles. The young man leads her out.

SIOBHAN:  I don't like her.

Sparks walks behind Siobhan, pauses and leans close without looking at her.

SPARKS:  I don't like you.

Cut to:

The young man leads Nikita to a ladder.  Nikita ascends first. She hands him her backpack; he slides it onto his chest instead of his back and follows her up. As they walk along a catwalk, the screams of a woman shoot up from down below. Nikita stops and looks down over the rail.

NIKITA:  What was that?

YOUNG MAN:  That? That's Simone.

NIKITA:  Simone...

YOUNG MAN:  Yeah, a government agent Sparks grabbed a couple of years ago. He keeps her alive...just in case.

Nikita hears moaning as the man leads her away.  They enter a messy room with junk and bunk beds.

YOUNG MAN: Honeymoon Suite.

He puts her bag on the lower bunk and takes his jacket off. Nikita closes the door

NIKITA:  Where do you sleep?

He pats the top bunk.

NIKITA:  Looks like I've got the best bed in the house.

Nikita sits on the lower bed and tries to change the channel on the TV. The young man joins her on the bed.

YOUNG MAN:  Sorry. No cable.

NIKITA:  Aw...guess I'll have to find some other way to entertain myself.

He eels around her and lays prone on the bed.

YOUNG MAN:  Need some help?

NIKITA:  You're easy.

Nikita snakes her way on top of him.

YOUNG MAN:  I'm just nice.

NIKITA:  Nice.

They kiss.  The man begins to breath faster in appreciation as Nikita kisses him ardently, grasping his shoulders.  She suddenly grabs a fistful of his hair and smashes it hard on the bar behind him, knocking him unconscious. She takes out a cigarette case, sorting through them until she finds a little red button and pushes it.

SECTION ONE: COMM

Birkoff and Michael sit in Comm.  Birkoff is slouched down in his chair, waiting, bored.  Michael sits with his back to the camera, working.  An electronic trill brings Birkoff scooting forward in his chair.

BIRKOFF:  Got her.

MICHAEL:  Where?

BIRKOFF:  Brilliant. An abandoned military installation. Got it's own generator and it's airtight.

 MICHAEL:  Where can we put the mobile com?

 BIRKOFF:  Uh...let me stroll around the neighborhood for a nice, quiet place.

OPERATIONS:  Michael.  (Michael gets up and walks over)  When are you leaving?

 MICHAEL:  As soon as we ready the van.

Operations nods and turns to leave, then hesitates.

OPERATIONS:  Just be prepared for anything.

GLASS CURTAIN

Nikita climbs down the ladder she had been led up. She looks around and walks carefully down a pathway. She hears a woman moaning, stops, and looks down over the rail. She trots down the nearest set of stairs and down another corridor where she finds a small room with a fenced door. Inside, a figure lays on the floor.

NIKITA:  Simone?

She doesn't answer. Curled into the fetal position, her appearance is hard to determine.  She has short black hair and ragged clothes.  Nikita glances down the hallway before slowly approaching the door.

NIKITA:  Simone, I work for the Section and I'm going to get you out of here but I have to get some help. Do you understand?

Simone lifts her head a couple of inches and runs her hand over her hair. There are small pieces of fabric tied on her fingers for bandages. Nikita kneels down and takes her tinted glasses off.

NIKITA:  Michael's here...He still loves you, Simone.

Simone lifts her head up more but remains silent.  Nikita hears a door close in the distance and rushes away.

GLASS CURTAIN

A jet lifts majestically from a runway to the dulcet strains of opera music.  In Glass Curtain’s center, Sparks sits next to a computer screen, watching.

SIOBHAN:  Flight 19 is in the air.

SPARKS:  How long until it's over the water?

SIOBHAN:  18 minutes.

SPARKS:  Good.

Sparks stands and stretches, then jabs a fist forward before he stalks away.  Siobhan remains at the keyboard, fixated by her task.  Meanwhile, in the bunk-bed room, Nikita has the ski glasses over her tinted ones again.

NIKITA:  Mobile comm, can you hear me?

Michael and the Section team are in route via helicopter.

MICHAEL:  Report.

NIKITA:  Sparks is going to down some planes today. I don't know where.

MICHAEL:  All right. Get to your exit point, Nikita.

Operations listens in on the radio exchange through a link from Section to the helicopter.

MICHAEL:  We're proceeding.

NIKITA:  All right, there's something else.

MICHAEL:  What?

NIKITA:  Uh, there's an innocent down here.

MICHAEL:  A hostage?

NIKITA:  Yes.

OPERATIONS:  (to Michael) Acceptable collateral.

MICHAEL:   Forget it. Just go. We're about to launch.

NIKITA:  No, you can't.

MICHAEL:   Let's not get into it, Nikita. Move, now!

NIKITA:  Michael...it's Simone.

MICHAEL:  What?

NIKITA:  I saw her. She's alive.

Michael glances around, thinking of what to do.

OPERATIONS: This is a potential air disaster Michael. Don’t even blink.

NIKITA:  Michael?

MICHAEL: Get to your exit point, Nikita. I'm going to need you.

Nikita reaches over to her unconscious wanna-be Lothario and pulls out one of his hairs.

Cut to the sight of another jet as it takes off.  Cut back to the computer stack in Glass Curtain.

SIOBHAN:  All right, Flight 135 is in the air.

The red dot shows up on her screen.

SIOBHAN:  Okay...Flight 135, you're about to meet Flight 19.  (she turns to Sparks)  Seven minutes, 13 seconds.

SPARKS:   All right.

Cut to the woods near Glass Curtain’s outside access.  Michael and the others roll up parachutes as Nikita runs up to them.

MICHAEL:  What have you got?

NIKITA:  I counted 24, including Sparks, everyone's armed. Their power line runs underneath the sewage canal. Can't get to it.

MICHAEL:  Ingress and egress?

NIKITA:  The only way in's through the front door.

MICHAEL:  Is that going to be a problem?

NIKITA:  (she holds up the DNA scanning device)  Not if you've got this.

Michael motions to the operatives to follow them and they run back along the path Nikita came from.  Cut to inside the base, waiting for the DNA scanner to open the lock.

MICHAEL:  How is she?

NIKITA:  (tersely) Not good, Michael.

The team pours through the door.  They shoot the lone guard, then continue on, leaving Michael and Nikita in the rear.  Michael and Nikita forgo following the team, but look for Simone.

MICHAEL:  Where?

Nikita points down, covering the stairwell with her gun. Michael tumbles down the stairs in a controlled descent while Nikita follows the other operatives into the main computer room. It is empty.

NIKITA:  (disbelieving) They were here. They were right here.

The operatives seethe through the room.  Nikita sees the computer screen. The red dots move closer together as a clock counts it down.

NIKITA: (flips down her goggles with the hidden camera) Birkoff, we've got a problem. We got 48 seconds before something happens. What do I do?

Cut to Comm. Birkoff, sans glasses, marches up and looks at the same screen that Nikita sees.

BIRKOFF:  All right. Looks like converging trajectories on a timer.

NIKITA:   I see a power switch. Should I turn it off?

BIRKOFF:  No! The program's already been sent. We have to correct it online.

A man drops in on a rope and starts shooting at them. Others follow. Nikita ducks down.

BIRKOFF:  (sees and hears the firefight on the monitor) What's going on in there?

NIKITA:  Nothing! Now, come on, Birkoff. We've got 30 seconds.

BIRKOFF:  Sit down at the main keyboard.  (Nikita scoots over to the keyboard, staying low) Type exactly what I tell you.  PS dash E.  PS dash… All right. That's got to be it. It's the only process I don't recognize. All right, type this in; Kill, space, minus-nine, space, 313. Okay? You got that? That should do it.

Tense seconds shoot past as automatic gunfire rattles all around.

NIKITA:  Nothing's happening.

BIRKOFF:  Just wait.

 NIKITA:  Birkoff, 18 seconds!

BIRKOFF:   It'll work. It just has to filter through.

The countdown spirals downward and the red dots converge on each other

NIKITA:  Birkoff...Birkoff! (the monitor flashes ‘Process Terminated’. The planes are now safe. With heartfelt relief, she gushes) Oh, God!

Birkoff puts his glasses back on.

Down below, Michael finds Simone's cell. Inside, Simone is sitting on the lone mattress.

MICHAEL:  Simone?

She doesn't answer. Michael takes out a handgun and shoots the lock, opening the door. Simone shrieks at the violent sound.  Michael enters her cell and she stands up, her arms locked stiffly in front of her, her hands helpless claws in front of her face. Michael takes off his ski mask.

MICHAEL:  It's me, Simone.

He walks slowly toward her.  She whimpers as her arms fold and her hands come close over her face, hiding the ugly wounds.

MICHAEL: (softly, trembling) Do you remember me? You're okay now. You're safe now.

Simone cries softly, slowly lowering herself to the floor. Michael takes her arm.

MICHAEL:  You're safe. It's okay. It’s okay. (he gingerly touches the wounds on her shoulder)

Nikita runs in, stops when she sees them, turns around, takes off her hat, and slowly turns around to look at them again.

MICHAEL:  I thought…I would have never stopped looking for you...never stopped loving you. My god…

Simone looks up at Nikita. Nikita sees alarm in her face, turns around, and shoots the man coming at her. Simone jumps up from Michael's embrace and Michael instantly stands up and points his gun toward the danger. Seeing Nikita has taken care of it, he turns back to Simone.

MICHAEL: We've got to get out of here.

Simone cowers into the corner, away from his arms.

MICHAEL:  (whispering) Come back to me, Simone. Come back to me Simone…come…

NIKITA:  I can't find Sparks.

MICHAEL: (nearly inaudible) I’m here…it’s okay.

SIMONE:  (her voice is abused) I know where he is.

IHCAEL: Okay…okay let’s go.

Michael helps her walk while Nikita follows. They stop at a set of stairs. Simone points up.

SIMONE:  He's in Unit B.

Michael helps her hide underneath the stairs.

MICHAEL:  Don't move. You stay here. Okay.  (he looks at Nikita, his face tear-streaked) Unit B. He's mine.

Nikita goes up the stairs.  Michael holds Simone’s face between his hands gently, as if handling something very fragile.  He kisses her tenderly, just a brush of lips, then withdraws from the space under the stairs and dashes up, the power of anguished fury with him.   He quickly finds Nikita and they search through a dark room filled with dismembered mannequins.  They hear shouting below.

MICHAEL:  (screaming) Simone!

He runs down the stairs they just went up. He looks for Simone in her hiding place but she's gone.

MICHAEL: (screaming) Simone!

SPARKS:  (in the distance) Go on. Go ahead and do it.

Michael and Nikita follow the voices through corridors and the computer room and find Sparks and Simone in a small control room behind a locked door with a grate for a window.  Sparks is hanging from his bound wrists, jacket gaping open, and staring at Simone who holds a gun on him.

SPARKS:  Simone...

Michael looks through the small window and points his gun through it.

MICHAEL:  Simone...

SIMONE:  (to Michael) Go. Get out of here.

SPARKS:  Take her out, man. She's crazy!

Simone hits him across the face his face with the gun and starts turning switches.

SIMONE:  It's too late, Michael. I'm already dead. (to Sparks) After all these years, you've kept me here. We're going to go together, Sparks.

White smoke fills the room.

MICHAEL:  No, Simone!

SIMONE:   I'm sorry, Michael.

 MICHAEL:  Simone, please don't do that!

SIMONE:  It's the only way it can be.  She opens a metal cabinet.

MICHAEL:   Please! Simone! Don't!

SIMONE:  She pulls a final switch.  I love you, Michael.

Sparks starts yelling.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: The building will destruct in 30 seconds. This is not a drill. Please evacuate.

Michael yells and tries to open the door, but he can no longer see Simone through the white smoke. He takes out his gun and shoots the door vainly.

29…28…27…

Michael hurls himself at the door again and again, screaming and frantic while Nikita pulls at him, trying to make him see reason.

26…25…24…23…

NIKITA:  There's nothing you can do! Michael! The others, Michael...

22…21…20…

He leans against the wall and fumbles to take out his radio.

MICHAEL:  Evacuate now.

19…18…17…

He slumps against the door as if undone from the inside.

16…15…14…

Nikita pulls at him, but he resists.   Finally he allows her strength to prevail.

13…12…11…

They run frantically up and up, through hallways and over catwalks.

10…9…8…

Other Section team members spew from the underground base, running.

7…6…5…4…

Nikita and Michael emerge.

3…2…1…

The explosion rocks the ground and sends everyone tumbling to the ground.  Dust and smoke mushroom out the opening and bits of dirt and debris patter down.  Slowly, people clasp each other and climb to their feet, but Michael remains prone on the ground, staring at the hazy smoke and dust that is all that remains of Glass Curtain’s base.  Nikita remains low, next to him for several heartbeats, then gets up and leaves him.  Michael stares through his tousled hair, gasping for breath as the realization of what he lost – again – washes over him.

SECTION ONE: ARMORY

Nikita faces Walter just outside his armory, handing over her weapon and other Section gear.  Walter takes it, then leans forward, answering her unspoken questions.

WALTER:  When he thought she died three years ago, he just shut himself right off. He didn't talk to anyone until…until you came along, sugar. Let's hope it's not so bad this time. (he walks with the equipment back into the storage area)

NIKITA:  Thanks, Walter.

He blows her a kiss behind him as he continues, then pulls the rolling grate down. Nikita puts on her coat, shoulders her bag to leave Section when Michael stops her.

MICHAEL: Nikita.

He starts walking toward her. Nikita glances in one direction and walks toward him.

MICHAEL:  I wanted to thank you.

NIKITA:  (warmly sympathetic) I'm so sorry.

MICHAEL:   If it wasn't for the Section, none of us would have a life. What right do I have to feel cheated?

NIKITA:  You have a right to feel anyway you want.  (she turns to leave, then turns back) Do you want to have a cup of coffee?

MICHAEL:  I'd love to.

NIKITA:  Good.

She leaves and Michael follows.

NIKITA’S APARTMENT

Nikita puts a CD into the stereo.  She sits on the couch, facing Carla who sits in the chair opposite.

CARLA:  Why can't you tell me what happens when the phone rings?

NIKITA: (gestures to Carla’s necklace) That’s pretty. (Carla give her a look and Nikita relents) I...I have to...I've made some promises to keep some things...certain things, um...confidential.

CARLA:  So do you always deep your promises?

NIKITA:  I try to.

CARLA: (smiles) I like this song.

Nikita and Carla smile at each other.  Nikita rests her forehead on Carla’s knee, Carla reaches over and affectionately touches her hair, perhaps accepting Nikita as she is, secrets and all.
 

END OF EPISODE