Room 327

Nikita sat by the cot that Jet laid in, his consciousness still not returned over the course of 36 hours. It was better this way, gave his body time to heal. The bullet was dug from his abdomen by the restaurant owner, Chu Lan, an old acquaintance of Jet's. Jet trained one of Chu Lan's sons years before he had become Nikita's bodyguard.

The Chu family was loyal, leaving Nikita and Jet in a small apartment above their restaurant and bringing up plentiful amounts of food and making sure Nikita was as comfortable as possible. They stated that men came in asking about them, but they had played dumb and said nothing. Nikita was grateful. With Jet in his state of incapacitation, she felt helpless.

When Jet's eyes finally flickered open, Nikita thought her chest would bust open with the relief flooding her veins. Jet sat up quickly, clutching at his midsection when pain shot through it. He winced, gritting his teeth.

Nikki placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease him back down. “Its okay,” she said, voice shaking. “We're safe.”

Jet settled back down on the cot, blinking several times to focus on Nikki's face. “We're at Chu Lan's...”

Nikita nodded, slipping her hand into his. “He's taken very good care of us.”

Jet nodded slightly, his eyes barely open again. “I knew he would. I have to...figure out what we are going to do next.”

“No, you need to rest,” said Nikki firmly. “We'll be safe here for a little while longer...” She trailed off as she could already see Jet was drifting off again. Hesitantly, she reached out, stroked his face with a delicate hand. He instinctively leaned into the touch and drifted off into unconsciousness again.

–

Nikita sat quietly at one of the booths, sipping tea that Chu Lan's wife offered her. It soothed her nerves. Jet was speaking to a man that he could trust, someone from some inner-government sanction that Jet belonged to. Probably the person who had trained Jet, or worked with him for a time, or at least assigned him as Nikita's bodyguard years ago. Jet said nothing when the man appeared at the door of their private apartment above the restaurant, only gesturing for Nikki to leave the room.

In all her time of spending with Jet, she knew little about him. Hell, she had invited a man into her bed that she knew the name and the approximate age of. Along with his his home country, that was about all she knew of him.

The movement from the stairs caught her eye and she looked up to see the mystery man descending the last two steps. Jet followed after him, slower. His face still pale and eyes dark with exhaustion. They stood by Nikita's booth in close proximately and she looked up at them curiously.

“We've concluded a decision,” said the man and would like to run it by you.”

“If you've already concluded it, why ask me?” replied Nikita, taking a sip of her tea.

“It is not finalized,” Jet said. “We want to ask of your opinion.”

Nikita's silence was a signal for them to go on. “We want to relocate you and Li to either Hong Kong or Beijing until we can get things settled. Right now, we are dealing with a mole situation on the inside and the slightest mention of you could lead to something worse. We believe that these people that are after you are everywhere.”

“Why me?” Nikita uttered the question that had been plaguing her since the start of this whole thing started.

“Your father was the prime target,” continued the man. “However, you were also involved as a target of the hit. These people are not going to stop until they have finished the job. Completely. They've infiltrated government and law and going to either would be a mistake. That's why we're keeping this as tight-lipped as possible and sending the two of you to China until we can get everything started off and take Li of America's Most Wanted.”

Nikita remained silent for a moment before nodding.

“I don't see how I can disagree,” said Nikita. “If going to China is what must be done, then let's go.”

The man bowed his head. “Thank you for understanding, Ms. Mitra. Once Li believes it right to leave, you two will be on a plane for China.”

The two men said a brief goodbye and the nameless man left. Jet settled in the seat across from Nikita. Neither said anything for a long while after Nikita poured him a cup of the still warm tea.
“Do you have family in China?” Nikita asked, trying to fill the silence.

Jet shook his head. “Not anymore.”

Nikita's head cocked to the side. “But you did?”

“At one time, yes.”

“What happened?”

“That's not important.” Jet's voice was final, but not unkind. It was a subject lefter for a better time, perhaps.

“Why China?”

“The connections I have there with my original organization. They will help keep us hidden. They're not associated with the Chinese government so there will be no conflict over bringing you in—someone who could be wanted by another form of government.”

“You think this is political?”

“Most likely,” Jet said. “Your father was a politician of sorts, though he hardly caused waves, politicians always have enemies.”

Nikita nodded slowly before finishing the rest of her tea.

–

Beijing's nightlife erupted as soon as darkness fell. Hundreds—thousands—of people walked the streets. Vendors remained open, market places still bustling. People swarmed in and out of clubs and bars.

Sitting at a table underneath the veranda of a small barbeque restaurant was an odd looking couple. An older Chinaman and a Bengali woman, thirty years younger. They spoke lowly, but in pleasant subject due to the ease on their faces. A dish of grilled carp sat between them.

“You're going to spend all my money with your shopping addiction,” Jet said, glimpsing at the bags surrounding the young woman's feet.

Nikita shrugged. “I have to blend in.”

“Chinese women dress no different that you did. Horrible excuse.” He waved her words away with a hand.

Smirking, Nikita took a bite of the steaming fish. “I deal with stress better as long as I shop.”

“Well, then by all means...” Jet smiled slightly.

A brief silence fell between them as they ate at their food. Nikita's eyes flickered to Jet's face and she inhaled deeply. “When can we go back?” Jet looked at her curiously. “I'm not saying I don't like here—I love it, actually—but...I know you're constantly checking over your shoulder and worrying. So I'm not necessarily asking when we can go back, but more...when will this all be over?”

“I don't know,” answered Jet quietly. “They're still working on identifying the group that is responsible for your father's assassination.”

Nikita said no more, but Jet saw the downcast look in her eyes. She was struggling. Struggling with the nightmares and the paranoia and the constant state of worry that sometimes nearly drove her to cheers.

Jet knew. Jet laid beside her while she thrashed around her sleep, saw her jump at the slightest moment, felt the way she stuck to his side. He was her only source of protection, only constant in her life, only source of her former identity. Jet had many identities and lives he lived, but Nikita's actions made him look at the vulnerabilities of those who were not used to it. He pitied her.

He reached under the table, taking her smooth hand in his calloused one. She looked up at him, taken aback by the rare moment that he touched her in public. His eyes said everything he kept silent about. From every danger that came their way, Jet would protect her without a second thought.