She took Michael’s hand for a fleeting second before the elevator doors opened. "One day," he promised. "Not today," she replied. The doors closed, and the hunt began again.
As they moved toward the hangar, the weight of the Black Box—the digital ledger of every sin Division ever committed—sat in the server room like a ticking heart. Nikita knew that as long as it existed, she was just another warden in a prettier uniform. The third year of her freedom felt more like a sentence than the first two combined. Nikita - Season 3
"If we go after him, the CIA will see the footprint," Nikita whispered. "Ryan can’t protect us from the Oversight forever." She took Michael’s hand for a fleeting second
"We found P9," Michael said, his voice low. "He’s in Zurich. He’s not running anymore, Nikita. He’s selling." The doors closed, and the hunt began again
"Gear up," she said, grabbing her jacket. "We don't bring him in. We shut him down."
Nikita didn’t look up. She was staring at the monitor where Alex’s face flickered. Her protege was half a world away, fighting a different kind of war in the sunlight of high-society galas, yet still drowning in the same shadows. The cycle was supposed to be broken when Percy died, but the power vacuum had only invited hungrier monsters.