*bang!* *bang!* *bang!*Shots could be heard under the floor. Then someone flipped open a trap door against one wall, backing up a staircase, guns blazing, until there weren't any bullets left
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There's a girl sitting at a table who's been watching Nikita since she came through the floor.
It doesn't appear that she's armed. To most people. But someone who knows what to look for will pick out the slight imprint of the automatic pistols in the pockets of her oversized coat.
Nikita's first instinct was to wonder who set her up for this; but Division hadn't known she was going to interfere with their kidnapping attempt, and Michael was in Bangladesh. Gogol had lost track of her, for now.
Don't let them see how unnerved you are.
Nikita's eyes flicked over the room, noted the girl packing weapons, gave her a very minutely judged nod, and held her eyes. Don't approach yet. If she was too much like Alex, it would be an invitation to drawn weapons.
The girl's eyes were sweeping across Nikita, studying her. Assessing her. Not the sort of expression you often see on a skinny little thing who looks like she might be sixteen.
After a moment she nods, seemingly satisfied with what she sees. Or something.
She cocks her head slightly, then gestures at the seat across from her own. In case Nikita wants to join her.
With a very small smile, Nikita nodded back, and walked over to the girl, taking the indicated seat. She let out a covert breath, then raised her eyebrows at the girl.
Alex had been like this. She had been like this. Approach her in the way that would've worked with her. "So. This happen to a lot of people? Wandering into this..." Whatever it was. A bar, going through the back of a storeroom in D.C.? "Place?"
For the record, there may have been a gun pointing at the trapdoor even before it weirdly appeared in the middle of the floor. But, as far as a gun can be pointed casually, this one is. Being mounted to the wrist of the spandex-clad man pointing it certainly helps.
For no sooner have her guns been holstered, but the arm is pulled back, towards a packet of cigarettes in a pocket. One smoke is held between facial hair that's never been fashionable, and a lighter clicks.
"Good to know." Nikita's tone would be breezy, except for the caution as she studied the gun pointed negligently in her general vicinity. Her shoulders untensed as soon as the cigarettes came out instead, and she took a step forward, enough so she didn't have to raise her voice as she spoke. "Does this place have a name? Because I could've sworn that door went up to a roof."
Clementine was impressed by both the show of artillery and amused by her...well, bemusement. She glanced over her shoulder at the woman. "You're the second person who's come in here shooting like that. The other was me." She hops off her stool and sashays over. "Welcome to Milliways."
"Thanks," Nikita said, trying to size up Clementine, and finding her mouth twitch in a half-smile again. Still on-guard, but willing to be reassured. "Yours didn't follow you in either?"
There might be a little over-the-shoulder twitch at that, just to be sure.
"No problem." Clementine's the world's most laid-back cop, much to the dismay of the higher-up brass. "I was chasing him in. He got away from me - and it was about a month ago. I never did find him on my side of the door."
Nikita couldn't help smiling a little, and relaxing slightly back into her perch. "That's a shame. I'll be just as happy if they give up and don't find me when I go back; though how I'm going to check and get away from them if the door keeps coming back here, I'm not sure."
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It doesn't appear that she's armed. To most people. But someone who knows what to look for will pick out the slight imprint of the automatic pistols in the pockets of her oversized coat.
And, yep. Still watching.
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Don't let them see how unnerved you are.
Nikita's eyes flicked over the room, noted the girl packing weapons, gave her a very minutely judged nod, and held her eyes. Don't approach yet. If she was too much like Alex, it would be an invitation to drawn weapons.
Reply
After a moment she nods, seemingly satisfied with what she sees. Or something.
She cocks her head slightly, then gestures at the seat across from her own. In case Nikita wants to join her.
Reply
Alex had been like this. She had been like this. Approach her in the way that would've worked with her. "So. This happen to a lot of people? Wandering into this..." Whatever it was. A bar, going through the back of a storeroom in D.C.? "Place?"
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For no sooner have her guns been holstered, but the arm is pulled back, towards a packet of cigarettes in a pocket. One smoke is held between facial hair that's never been fashionable, and a lighter clicks.
"Bright side: it don't get much weirder."
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There might be a little over-the-shoulder twitch at that, just to be sure.
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