Hello, everyone. I know it has been a long time since I have written anything for FanFiction, but I feel as though I'm beyond that point in my life. Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but I guess there comes a time when we all have to move on. Even so, this story has always been in the back of my mind, a sort of "what if" scenario. I started it right before United We Spy came out, so it takes place, in the Gallagher world, sometime after the fall semester of senior year, and in the Heist world, sometime after Perfect Scoundrels and "Double Crossed." I finally decided to finish it and have one last hurrah on FanFiction. Thank you, everyone who read my few stories, and I really hope you enjoy my last one.

~Karsen

There were many words Kat would have used to describe W.W. Hale V. "Intelligent," definitely. "Witty," for sure. And "handsome" and "Hale" seemed to always go together like two matching puzzle pieces. But as Hale walked into Uncle Eddie's brownstone that February morning, another word popped into Kat's mind: guilty.

"What did you do?" She asked before Hale had a chance to sit down, before he had even taken off his jacket.

Hale silently removed his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, then went to the stove that seemed to be perpetually keeping some form of delicious warm for whoever needed it. "Hello, Hale, how are you?" Hale asked in a mocking voice. "Oh, I'm fine, Kat. Thank you for asking. And how are you?"

"What did you do?" Kat asked again, glaring at him.

"What makes you think I did something?" Hale shot back as he retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and ladled soup into it.

"Hale," Kat groaned. "Just tell me. I promise I won't be mad."

Hale was a great inside man. An excellent con man. The second-best thief she had ever known. So she was surprised when Hale tensed up at her words, so easily breaking his character. He turned around. "Promise?"

Kat felt her heart race. "Tell me."

Hale sighed and reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a folded up piece of paper. "I sort of… took a job for us." He handed the paper over to Kat, who unfolded it, her gaze never leaving Hale.

"Her name was Gillian Gallagher," Hale volunteered as Kat studied the ink drawing of a sword. "She used that sword to kill the guy who tried to kill Abraham Lincoln – the first guy."

"Hale…"

"Let me finish," he cut her off. "The woman who talked to me, who asked me to get this, she's… bad. Like, Visily Romani kind of bad." He reached into his pocket again and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Kat. "You're in there. And Gabs. And Simon. And Hamish and Angus. Even Uncle Eddie and…"

"Dad," Kat finished, looking down at a picture of the best thief in the world, buying coffee in Italy. The one who was never seen, never caught. The one who had been followed and photographed by this woman's people without even knowing it. "But how did she…"

"I don't know. But she's good, Kat. Too good. We can't say no to her."

Kat swallowed. "What's her name?"

"Catherine Goode. She said the sword's at a school."

"Gallagher Academy," Kat finished, remembering the woman from the Athenia who had given her a business card after saving Kat's and Hale's lives. "No, Hale. There has to be some other way."

"Kat, listen to me. If Catherine is anything like Macey, anything like Abby, we can't win against her. I don't like it either, Kat, but we have to do this. We don't have a choice."

Kat sank to a chair, suddenly too tired to stand. "Okay," she exhaled. "We'll have to talk to—"

"I already talked to Gabrielle. She's getting everyone else, and they're on their way here."

Kat stared at W.W. Hale the fifth, black sheep of the Hale family. He had been born into a world he didn't want, and stolen a life he shouldn't have. And yet, Kat couldn't help but think that there was no one she wanted by her side more than him.

The group had gathered and compared notes, and twelve hours later they were sitting around the table in Uncle Eddie's kitchen, Gabrielle stirring a pot on the stove while Simon stared at his computer screen, the crease in his forehead getting deeper and deeper. "How do you know about this place, again?" Gabrielle asked. "What's it called? Guggenheim Academy?"

"Gallagher," a voice from the doorway corrected. Gabrielle had been distracted by lunch; Simon was intently focusing on his computer; Angus and Hamish were drawing up plans for what they called "the perfect con," which would require a dump truck and at least 15,000 gallons of bubble solution; Hale had gone upstairs, claiming he had "business to attend to," and Kat had been lost in thought. That was why no one had heard the door open, heard the two girls who came from very different lives slip into the small brownstone house. Kat and her clan stared at the unwelcomed visitors, no one saying anything until the taller of the two spoke up. "It's called the Gallagher Academy."

Angus smiled a cheesy grin that resembled that of the Cheshire Cat. Hamish winked at the speaker, trying to look as charming as possible when he had pen ink smeared all over his hands. Simon instantly went red and turned his focus back to the computer screen. As Kat stared at Macey McHenry, a realization dawned on her. All her life Kat had thought that Gabrielle was the most beautiful girl alive. But seeing both Gabs and Macey in the same room, Kat thought that maybe, just maybe, Gabrielle would have to share that number one spot with someone else. And she wouldn't be at all happy about it.

"Who are you?" Gabrielle asked, taking a threatening step forward, and if she had been holding a weapon instead of a dripping serving spoon, she would have looked lethal. She stared at the newcomers, sure they would back down, cower under her glare. Instead Macey stepped forward.

"We're here to help," she said, an edge to her voice matching in sharpness to that in Gabrielle's.

"Help? With what? We don't need help."

Macey laughed. "Really? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but you're trying to break into a building that makes the security system of the Henley look like it was designed by two-year-olds. Yeah, you probably know about the heat sensors stationed every 100 feet on the grounds, and you probably know about the video cameras that cover every inch of the grounds, but did you know about the tire-reading sensors in the driveway? Or what about the trip-wires in the windows? Did your recon tell you that if you grab that sword," she moved to the table, and with one swift motion had the ink drawing in her hands, studying the picture, "it's charged with enough electricity to light your hair on fire?"

Simon looked up from his laptop. "Gabs," his voice cracked, "I didn't know anything about that."

Gabrielle crossed her arms. Kat was sure that things were about to get ugly, but then Hale came bounding into the kitchen. "Oh, good. You're here." Hale gave Macey a quick hug then nodded to the other girl. "You're Cammie?" It came out as a question, and the other girl nodded. "Everybody," Hale turned to his friends, "this is Macey and Cammie. They're a little… specialized… in their training. They know Gallagher."

"And Catherine," Cammie interjected, speaking for the first time. "We know Catherine fairly well."

"I called them to come help us," with that Hale moved towards Gabrielle and put an arm playfully around her shoulders. "So we're going to play nice and get along, right, Gabs?" She huffed and pushed his arm away. "Excellent. It's time to break into a school."

"Cammie?" Kat's heart raced. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. She had been calm when Visily Romani gave her a ride. She wasn't at all scared when Maggie had locked her in her hotel room for an entire night. And breaking into Interpol didn't make her even a little skittish. But talking to this girl, Kat felt jittery.

"Hi, Kat," Cammie said, flashing her a quick smile. "What's up?"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us?"

Cammie laughed. "Let's just say I have a rather personal score to settle with Catherine."

"Really? What happened?"

Cammie turned her arms so her wrists were up and slowly pushed up her sleeves. Kat tried not to grimace as she stared at the countless scars that crisscrossed Cammie's arms. "I don't know what happened. I don't remember." Kat waited for her to laugh and say just kidding, to give her the real reason for the scars, but Cammie remained silent, and Kat tried to imagine what it would be like to have gone through something so horrific, then have the memories ripped away. "She's my boyfriend's mom."

Wow. After meeting Hale's mom, Kat thought she had it bad. After all, nothing could be worse than having your boyfriend's mom not really care for you. Turns out Mrs. Hale treated Kat like a saint in comparison. "Doesn't that sort of put a damper on your relationship?"

Cammie was quiet for a minute, and Kat thought maybe she had overstepped her boundaries, had asked the wrong question. "From what Macey told me, I feel like you and I are really alike," Cammie finally said. "Both the ones who do the dirty work, not because it's a punishment, but simply because we're the best ones to do it. We can get away with more, for some reason. Maybe it's skill. Maybe we're both just really lucky. But we both get results when we take a job." She paused, her eyes meeting Kat's. "We're both chameleons."

"Chameleon," Kat said, tasting the word, trying it on for size. Then she shook her head, remembering the pictures Catherine had taken. "I'm not a chameleon. Not even close. Catherine has pictures of everyone – Hale, Gabs, me, even my dad." She shivered. "I didn't blend in. She found me. I'm not a chameleon."

Cammie smiled that knowing smile that tells that someone understands, has been in the same place. "The first time I met Zach – Catherine's son – I was supposed to get to a meeting place without anyone following me. Instead of avoiding him, I talked to him, even told him where I was going. For years I had been told that I was the chameleon, the girl no one sees, but when I finally got to the meeting place, imagine my surprise when Zach came around the corner." She paused, absentmindedly running her fingers over her scars. "Last summer, I was supposed to be the chameleon, but someone found me. Someone saw me, and did this." Kat looked at the scars again. "I'm still a chameleon, Kat."

"But your life is entirely different from mine," Kat argued. "We're not exactly in the same line of work."

Cammie smiled. "The Romeo and Juliet of friendships? Not terrible," she argued.

"Romeo and Juliet both died," Kat reminded her.

"Nuance. Kat, at the Athenia you saved my best friend's life. Anything I can do to help you, I will."

"So my phone rings, and I see it's Liz, and I'm absolutely sure that Cammie was found dead in Siberia or something like that, and Liz is sobbing when I answer. Absolutely sobbing. But does she tell me that they found Cam's body? No. Liz, the science whiz at our school, the one everyone turns to for help with chemistry homework, wanted to know if I knew what she did wrong, because the cookies she had been trying to make were black, burned beyond recognition." Everyone at Uncle Eddie's table burst out laughing at the story of the girl they felt they knew. Even Gabrielle managed a smile, which was leaps and bounds from when she wanted to strangle the two Gallagher Girls earlier. Kat closed her eyes for a moment and sighed with contentment. This almost felt normal – sitting with friends, telling stories as if nothing was wrong. But even the walls of Uncle Eddie's house weren't strong enough to keep out the evil of the world. Catherine was out there, and she wanted results.

"We need to get started," Kat said, leaning forward, taking charge.

The mood in the kitchen instantly switched. They weren't teenagers enjoying the freedom that comes with being home without adult supervision. They were professionals, two opposite ends of the legal spectrum teaming together.

"Catherine is expecting that sword. Soon. We need to give her something."

Macey frowned. "That sword is the only one of its kind. You won't find one anywhere else."

"That's not what we're worried about," Hale said, rising from his chair and placing his palms flat on the table. "We have someone who could make a copy."

"Catherine would know," Cammie argued. "Trust me. She's trained. She would know."

"Cammie. Cammie, Cammie, Cammie. Come with me, my dear," Hale said, putting his hands on her shoulders and steering her to the living room. He pointed to a painting above the fireplace. "Do you recognize it?"

Cammie closed her eyes, and Kat wondered how a girl coming from that life could know anything about art, but she just watched, waited. "It's a Vermeer."

Hale glanced at Kat and winked. "Do you know what piece this is?"

"Girl with a Pearl Earring. It's valuable. And pretty vulnerable sitting in this house," she glanced at Kat. "No offense."

Kat shrugged. "None taken. It's a fake."

Cammie stared at the painting that looked exactly like the one that hung in Madame Dabney's classroom, trying to not let the shock register on her face. "Like I was saying," Hale said, walking back to the kitchen, "we know who could copy it. But we need an original for him to copy."

"Cammie," Gabrielle said, crossing one long leg over the other. "How easy would it be for us to get the sword out of the school?"

"My mother's the headmistress," Cammie volunteered. "We could just ask…"

"No." Kat was sure that she and Gabrielle had spoken at the same time. She was shocked when she saw it was Macey who had also disagreed with Cammie. "Cam, we've kept smaller things from your mom."

"And they all didn't work. Remember when the Blackthorne Boys came to Gallagher? Or when we broke into the subs to get Dad's journal? Or what about the time Josh drove a freaking forklift through the wall?" Cammie was almost shouting.

"Someone drove a forklift through a wall?" Angus perked up. "That's bloody gutsy. I'd like to meet that guy."

"You can't," Cammie said. "He doesn't remember it."

"Cam," Macey argued. "We can't tell her. You know how Catherine is. The more people that know, the worse it is. Remember when we broke into Blackthorne?"

Cammie closed her eyes, and Kat thought she saw her fight back tears. "Mr. Solomon almost died that night, Macey."

"We can't tell her, Cam."

Kat watched Cammie close her eyes. She didn't look like a spy in training then – she looked like a teenage girl who had seen too much, lost too much. She looked like she would give anything to erase the memory as she repeated herself. "Mr. Solomon almost died."

Macey was silent for a moment, watching her friend. "Cammie, what about a code red?"

Cam looked up. "What's a code red?" Simon asked, perking up at security jargon.

"It could work," Cammie said slowly. "We just need a prospective student…" She and Macey both turned, their gazes burning on Kat.

"I don't know about this, Hale," Kat said, watching the boy pace back and forth in the living room. "Schools and I don't exactly have the best of reputations."

"Who else is going to do it?" He asked. "Me?"

"They do have one guy student," Kat offered. "Why can't Gabs do it?"

"You know why Gabrielle can't do it," Hale said. "How many schools has she attended?"

"I was only in school for a few months."

Hale just crossed his arms.

"What about Abbey? She's just going to forget she ever met me?"

"Cammie said she's not there this semester. Cammie and Macey are the only ones who know you."

Kat sighed. "Fine."

The next morning the last thing Kat wanted to do was wake up early. She really didn't want to have to actually put on nice clothes instead of sweatpants and a t-shirt. And she most definitely did not want to ride in the back of Hale's limo with Hale driving, Marcus sitting next to her saying to her, "We're here, Miss."

"You're supposed to be my uncle, Marcus," Kat argued. "You're going to have to call me 'Kat,' not 'Miss.'"

"Of course, Miss." Kat stared out the window of the limo at the ornate gates of the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. "We're probably going to have to wait a while. They do some pretty extensive security."

Kat tried to not think about what their extensive security might find, so she started counting. Anything and everything she could see. She counted the security cameras (213, but she was pretty sure at least 5 of them were some other form of sensor, not cameras), the bricks on the front of the school (1763.5 – she intended to figure out what the deal was with that half-brick about thirteen feet up from the ground), the leaves in the oak tree to the right of the driveway (she lost count after 734). Finally two men wearing dark glasses opened the doors, leading them to the headmistress's office. "Hello, Katarina," the woman said, extending a hand and flashing a beautiful smile. "Welcome to the Gallagher Academy." Kat looked around the office, at the magazines featuring articles on teachers-of-the-year and the top ten skills students need to attend the top ten ivy-league colleges, the encyclopedia set on the bookshelf, and the picture of the woman and Cammie standing in front of Cinderella's castle.

"Thank you," Kat said, shaking Rachel Morgan's hand.

Mrs. Morgan launched into the history of the school, but Kat wasn't paying attention. Her gaze was wandering around the office, trying to figure out if she could ever fit in in a place like this. "So would you like a tour?" Headmistress Morgan concluded her speech and looked pointedly at Kat.

"Uh, yeah." Kat forced herself to concentrate. "I mean, yes. That would be great."

Rachel Morgan smiled and opened her office door. Cammie and Macey stood with another girl. "Katarina, meet Cameron, Macey, and Rebecca. They are seniors here and will be giving you your tour."

Kat smiled shyly, pretending she had never met two of the girls, hadn't heard countless stories about the other one. "Hi." Kat looked questioningly to Macey, who slightly nodded in response: everything was ready.

"That painting was a gift from the Duchess of Normandy in 1890," Cammie started, leading Kat into a room that had French silks on the wall. Kat bit back a smile as she stared at the painting – Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring. "It's an original – the only one of its kind." She winked. They exited the room, and Cammie paused near a bust of a man whose ears put Dumbo's to shame.

"This is Abraham Gallagher," Bex said, her British accent thick. Cammie cut her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "This is Abraham Gallagher," she said again, sounding every bit American. "He was the school's first headmaster. He established the Gallagher Academy so that his daughter, Gillian, would have a place to learn the finer points of being a woman." Bex put her hand on top of Abraham's head, her fingers drumming on the cool marble.

"Cammie?" A small girl with blond hair walked up to the group.

"Liz," Cammie smiled. "Meet Katarina Bishop. She's a prospective student." Kat marveled at the way Cammie kept her cover.

Liz held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Cammie, I know you're busy with a tour," she cut her eyes at Kat, excitement dancing in her gaze. "But I was wondering if you could help me? I'm struggling with a chemistry experiment."

Bex snorted, then quickly coughed. Cammie walked away, and Bex leaned close enough to Kat to whisper "I never thought I'd see the day that Elizabeth Sutton asked for help with homework." She winked. "Well, Miss Bishop, it appears that it's just the three of us now." She and Macey led Kat down a hallway.

"Is this where it is?" Kat asked, her eyes darting back and forth.

Bex smiled. "Oh, poor, naïve Kat."

"No, Kat. Right now it's sitting under Abraham Gallagher." Macey smiled at Kat. "And very soon history will be made at this school, because for the first time ever…"

Macey was cut off by a high pitched siren. "A code black will happen when there's a visitor present."

Macey and Bex grabbed Kat's hands and ran toward Headmistress Morgan's office. As soon as Rachel Morgan saw Kat, she rushed toward the girl.

"Katarina, I need you to come with me now." She sounded panicked, and Kat couldn't tell if it was her cover or if she was actually nervous about an outsider seeing something so covert happening inside their walls. "There seems to be a problem with our security," she said, gesturing to the seat in her office next to the one Marcus was occupying. "I assure you this is completely atypical."

"I need to know that my niece will be safe," Marcus said, beginning to stand.

"Sir, I am very sorry," Mrs. Morgan laid a hand on Marcus's arm, and he sat down. "But right now I cannot allow you to leave. If you'll just wait here," she trailed off, then left her office, locking the door behind her.

Kat allowed herself to take in the office. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were volumes of magazines on a bookshelf, all boasting titles like Higher Education and Higher Success; Teaching: Your Job, Your Passion, Your Life; and Kat's personal favorite: Instruction to Females: Tips for Educating the XX-Chromosomed Teen. "Miss, are you sure about this?" Marcus shifted in the chair, looking at Kat. "Is this something you really want to do?"

To anyone listening, it would have sounded like he was questioning her decision to attend Gallagher. But Kat knew better. "I have to do this, Marcus."

He nodded. "I know, Miss."

"Kat!" Despite her priding herself on not being easily scared, Kat jumped at the sound of her name. She twirled around, searching for the speaker. "Behind the bookcase! It's Cammie. Just listen."

Kat stared in awe at the bookcase, listening to the voice. "We have the sword. We'll be getting it to your people in approximately twenty minutes." Cammie paused, then took a deep breath. "I'm trusting you guys to take care of this, Kat. So I need you to trust me, too."

Kat had learned at a young age that, for a thief's life, trust was a luxury she could not afford. So she surprised herself when she answered, "I trust you."

Kat could hear the smile in Cammie's voice. "Good. Because you're about to be kidnapped."

All of a sudden a pair of arms wrapped tightly around Kat. She looked over to Marcus, who had been sitting next to her just a second ago. Now she stared at an empty chair. "You said you trusted us, Kat," her kidnapper whispered. It was definitely a male voice. "Prove it." With that a blindfold was over her eyes, and Kat felt herself be lifted over someone's shoulder.

"Don't drop me," she whispered, and she heard the boy laugh.

"What? Not one for adventures?"

She felt him shift her body on his shoulder. "I've seen plenty of adventures. I've broken into a mansion before," she said.

"I've crashed a presidential party," the boy countered.

"I've climbed through vents. In heels."

"I've jumped out of a moving train."

Kat laughed. "I zip-lined out of a moving building."

"I blew up a school."

Kat paused, wanting to know who her kidnapper was. "Yeah, I can't top that. Which school?"

"Sorry. That's classified." Kat sighed.

"So who are you, anyway?"

The boy laughed again. Kat marveled at how he continued to run, carrying her and talking to her, and didn't seem to be tired. "You haven't guessed?"

Kat suddenly felt foolish. "You're Catherine's son."

The boy instantly stopped, and in a dizzying spin Kat was on the ground, the blindfold off. The boy in front of her was tall, and she guessed him to be about Hale's age. "No. I am not Catherine's son. My name is Zach. That's what you call me, okay? Not her son."

Kat nodded. She couldn't imagine what it was like. Whenever someone asked her if she was Bobby Bishop's daughter, she felt proud. Her entire life seemed to be defined by living up to the family legacy, and not trying to escape it. She instantly felt sorry for the boy in front of her.

His gaze softened. "It's okay," he said, as if reading her mind. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

She looked around. "Where are we?"

Zach smiled. "Did you see the lake when you were waiting outside?" Kat nodded. "Well right now we're directly under it."

Kat glanced at the ceiling. "Really? Thought it'd be harder to breathe under water."

Zach rolled his eyes. "Our ride will be here soon."

"Our? You're coming with?"

"Let's just say that I want to be there when you give Catherine the sword."

"Zach?"

He glanced over at Kat, and suddenly she realized that, under different circumstances, Zach, Cammie, Macey, Bex, and Liz could be the ones chasing Kat and her gang. "I'm glad we're on the same side."

In 1921, Veronica Miles Henley went against cultural norms and, instead of pouring her money into hats and ball gowns, shoes and party gloves, spent her wealth on something she loved: art. Kat had grown up believing that Veronica Miles Henley was a one-of-a-kind, not one to let the men of the time tell her how to live her life. As Kat listened to Macey, Cammie, Liz, and Bex share trivia about Gillian Gallagher, however, she felt that, had the two women been from the same era, attended the same masquerades and danced with the same dignitaries, they would have been very good friends. Thieving was completely and totally a boys club, one that Kat had somehow been born into and allowed to remain. In the same way, the Gallagher Academy was a sisterhood, one as committed to enforcing the rules as Kat's life was to bending them.

"This is crazy, you know that?" Kat asked Cammie. Cammie's eyes darted around, taking in every inch of Uncle Charlie's eccentric home placed on the top of a mountain. Kat knew Cammie was trained, wired to hide her emotions, but something seemed to be causing Cammie's breathing to come just slightly quicker; her eyes were slightly wider, as if she was waiting for someone to jump out at her. "Cammie? You okay?"

Cammie smiled at Kat. "I have learned, Kat, that, in our field of work," she paused, studying Kat, "and I'm guessing your field of work too, crazy is an entirely relative term." She took a deep breath. "And yes, I am okay. It's just that, last time I was on a mountain like this…" she absentmindedly fingered the scars on her arms. "I'm okay," she said again.

"Katarina," Charlie's voice cut through the small cottage. "What you are asking, it does not need to be done."

Kat felt her stomach drop. She looked at her uncle, who studied Gillian Gallagher's sword, gingerly running his fingers up and down the blade. "Uncle Charlie, you don't understand. We need—"

"A forgery, yes. But I am not making you one."

Kat remembered the first time she had brought Hale up the mountain. Uncle Charlie had turned them away, but Kat had convinced him to help. She never dreamed she would have to argue her case again. "Uncle Charlie, can't you—"

"Kat, look," Hale cut her off, staring at the large vase by the door that held a collection of umbrellas, walking sticks, and…

"Gilly's sword," Cammie muttered, staring in disbelief at the blade. "But how…"

Uncle Charlie stared at Cammie, and Kat could have sworn his eyes misted. "You look like him, you know. He was a great man. Committed. Practical. And he loved you so much."

The cottage was silent as everyone watched Uncle Charlie and Cammie. "How did you know…" Cammie started, but stopped. Kat realized that spies and thieves, really, were quite similar. There are stories you tell, and there are stories that you can't, no matter how much you want to. Too much risk rode on the unspoken words, and that was why Cammie blinked back the tears and smiled at Charlie. "He was a great man."

Charlie hobbled to the vase and pulled out the sword. He gave it to Cammie. "I made this for a member of the Morgan family a long time ago. I think it is high time that I delivered it."

The jet ride back to the States was filled with the noise of two different worlds colliding, as thieves poured Pepsi into the second-best crystal goblets and spies put tray after tray of pizza rolls in the little oven. Stories were shared, toasts given to Uncle Charlie, the Gallagher Academy, Uncle Eddie's Brownstone, and, (Angus was talking now) "…a toast to the boy who drove a forklift through a wall. Well done, mate!" Everyone raised their glasses but Zach, who just stared ahead. "And finally," Angus said, his voice taking a more serious tone, "to Cammie's dad."

There was a moment of silence, followed by everyone raising their sodas. "Kat," Cammie walked across the Hale Family Jet, taking a seat next to Kat. "What's the plan now? Where do we go? Do you know why she wants the sword in the first place?"

Kat shook her head. "No, I don't know why she wants it. She didn't tell…" but she trailed off, staring at Hale. He was trying too hard not to listen, and Kat at once knew there was something he hadn't told her.

"Hale."

Hale glanced at her. Kat expected him to play dumb, to make her ask, but instead he just shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Kat. I'm so, so sorry."

The jet fell silent as ten pairs of eyes rested on Hale. "I know why she wants it. And I didn't say anything because I wanted to protect you, but…"

Zach leaned forward. "Hale, what does she want?" He didn't look like a boy mad at his mother. He looked exactly like a trained operative discussing a very unpredictable, very dangerous enemy agent. He looked like he was ready to take on the world, willing to stop at nothing to take down Catherine Goode, even if it meant he went down with her. Kat saw the determination in Zach's face, and she knew that Hale saw it, too. Whatever Catherine's reasons, Zach was going to make sure Catherine was stopped. There was no question about it. Kat was sure that was why Hale admitted, "She wants to use it to kill somebody."

Joseph Calvan wasn't just a businessman. He was an entrepreneur, a visionary. A legacy. But the most important part about Joseph Calvan was that he was the great-great-great-great grandson of Ioseph Cavan, founder of the Circle of Cavan. His was the only name that had not made a list Cammie had remembered, been picturing in her head for years without realizing it, and that was why the students of Gallagher Academy all blanched when Hale mentioned the name. They didn't point out that none of Kat's crew had high enough clearance to hear about the Circle. They didn't say that Catherine's mission had gone from psychotic to classified in the blink of an eye. Instead every head turned to Cammie, everyone silent as Cammie hummed a song.

"Cam," Bex started, looking like she wanted nothing more than to take Cammie back to the safety of Gallagher's iron gates and stone walls. But Cam just looked at her best friend and shook her head, as if she knew what she was thinking.

"We're never going to be normal, Bex," Cammie said. "This is our life. And, like it or not, that tune has become our theme song. It was what they used against me over the summer. It was what Dr. Steve used. We're never going to be normal, but if we can put a stop to this madness," she stopped, looked around the room. Kat had no idea what she was talking about, what the song signified or who Dr. Steve was. But that didn't stop her from meeting Cammie's gaze and nodding, telling everyone in the room, "We're ending this. Now."

Kat stared at the gazebo sitting in the middle of Roseville, Virginia. It looked so peaceful, and Kat wondered if anyone in the small town had even the slightest clue what went on behind the gates of the Gallagher Academy. "Hale," she whispered, staring up at the boy next to her. The boy who, with a black hat pulled low on his head and the collar of his black jacket turned up, from a distance, resembled the heir to Hale Industries.

"He looks good, Kat," Gabrielle's voice said in her ear. "From behind he looks like Hale. Good job on the disguise, Zach."

The boy next to Kat stared down at her and winked. "Thanks, Gabrielle. And, Hale? Catherine will be here…"

Kat couldn't see Gabrielle and Macey in the clock tower at the corner of the square, but she knew they were there. Across the street, she saw two boys and a girl, Hamish, Angus, and Bex, slip into the local pharmacy. An old minivan drove around the block, and Kat recognized Liz in the driver seat, while Simon sat in the passenger seat typing furiously on his laptop.

"She'll be here any minute," Hale said, and Kat fought the urge to turn and look for him. Kat knew he and Cammie were somewhere in the pedestrian traffic, watching Kat and Zach sit in the gazebo.

Kat took a deep breath. She had been in difficult situations before, of course, but never had the stakes been so high. Zach glanced at her. "You okay?"

Kat nodded. "I'm good. It's just… different, I guess." She knew Zach would never understand what she meant. He had been training his whole life for these situations. Kat, on the other hand, had been taught to go in unseen. Go in, take the painting, and leave. Never had someone's life been on the line. Kat felt Zach tense next to her, and she followed his gaze.

A small woman with red hair was making her way towards them. She looked as if she didn't have a care in the world, but Kat knew better. Even as Catherine swung her arms and smiled, Kat could see her taking in her surroundings, making calculations in her head. When Catherine's gaze fell on the bag sitting at Zach's feet, her smile widened.

"Mr. Hale," she called, still ten paces away from the gazebo. "I see you came through on our agreeme—"

Kat wasn't sure how Zach was going to react to seeing his mother. Would he fly into a rage? Would he act like he cared for her? In the second that followed, Kat played a million different extreme reactions over in her head, trying to calculate what exactly Zach was going to do.

"What's wrong, Catherine," he asked, his words dripping. "Aren't you happy to see your son?"

Kat had grown up as a thief. She learned from an early age to not value objects, because they could be taken from you. In turn, Kat placed family on her pedestal, the thing she valued more than anything else. Even that could be taken away, too, Kat well knew, but she thought it was worth it.

One look at Zach and Catherine, and it was obvious that family wasn't the most important part of life to everybody. Catherine circled Kat and Zach, very cat-like in her movements. Even though her eyes were menacing, however, her voice was laced with charm. "Zachary, darling. I see you've met the infamous Katarina Bishop. Tell me, how did you meet? I know Kat isn't a Gallagher Girl." Catherine stepped closer to Kat. Zach went to step between them, but Catherine's hand was already out, her fingers tracing Kat's cheek. "You could easily be a Gallagher Girl, Kat," she said with a smile. Zach pushed her hand away, but Catherine ignored him. Her gaze locked on Kat's. "They could do the same for you what they did for Cammie. Or me." Her gaze shifted back to Zach. "Okay, Zachary. The fun is over. Hand over the sword."

It was a fake. The Gallagher Academy would lose nothing by giving it to her. But Kat knew then that she had to protect that sword with her life.

"Where is he?" Kat asked, speaking her first words to Catherine. "Joseph Calvan. He's coming here, isn't he?"

Catherine didn't answer, but her eyes gave it away. Kat's mind reeled. He's coming here. He's coming here. He's coming here.

"No, Kat," Cammie's voice was firm in her ear. Kat saw Cammie and Hale out of the corner of her eye. "He's already here."

The next few moments were a blur. A dark blue sedan stopped along the side of the street, just yards from Kat, Zach, and Catherine. A man in a black suit stepped out, looking very out of place in the small town most comfortable in jeans. There was no mistaking that he didn't belong. Kat watched him make his way toward Catherine. How had she brought him there? How did she con him into walking into his own murder? A thousand thoughts swirled through Kat's mind, but she couldn't do anything as Catherine lunged for the bag, pulling out the sword.

Hale had told Kat that the sword was used during the first attempt to kill Lincoln. Cammie had filled in the missing pieces, telling who Ioseph Cavan was and how Gillian Gallagher had managed to kill him with his own sword. Kat felt as though she was watching history repeat itself as Catherine pulled out the sword and lunged at Calvan.

"No!" Zach lunged for his mother, and Kat saw Cammie running toward them, her finger pressed to her ear, no doubt calling for backup. But all Kat could hear was the gun shot, coming from the other side of the street. She felt first panic, then relief, when she saw Agent Abigail Cameron running toward them, gun in hand. But something was wrong. Catherine was still standing, and Joseph Calvan lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Agents were swarming around the scene. Kat felt Hale's hand slip into her own. Cammie was on her knees, picking up the sword that had been made for her father. And in all the commotion, Catherine had gotten away.

"I don't understand," Kat argued, sitting in Headmistress Morgan's office. "Why shoot him?"

Rachel Morgan took a deep breath. Kat knew that, as far as the official reports went, she was just a civilian, an innocent bystander. But Kat wanted answers, even if they were well beyond her clearance.

"Miss Bishop, I'm afraid that I cannot tell you that." Rachel Morgan gave Kat an apologetic smile, but she didn't stop talking. "You do not have enough clearance to know that the CIA had been given an anonymous tip that Joseph Calvan was going to plant a bomb in Roseville Square. I am not allowed to tell you that there were enough explosives in the back of that sedan to do as much damage as the Mount Saint Helens eruption. You cannot know that, in all the confusion, Catherine Goode got away, and is still out there." Rachel paused for a moment, then looked at Kat. "You can't know any of that. You don't know any of that."

Kat nodded. "I understand."

Rachel smiled. "There is a way, however, that you could be privy to such information."

With that the office door opened, and Abby Cameron walked in. "We meet again, Kat." She laughed. "Why do I get the feeling that trouble seems to follow your people?"

Kat smiled. "I could say the same about you."

"Touché. But in all seriousness," Abby sat down, motioning for Kat to do the same. "I told you before that we would love to have you here at Gallagher. The offer still stands."

Kat thought back to a time when she would have jumped at that opportunity in a heartbeat, a time when she would have given anything to leave the life she had been born into and steal a different one. And now one was being handed to her.

"Thank you, but," she paused. "Working with Cammie and the others, I realized that you guys have your place in the world, and it's obviously here. But I have my place too, and…"

She trailed off, and Abby smiled. "I understand. I hope to see you again, Kat."

Kat smiled. "I'm sure you will."

Kat walked out of the headmistress's office toward the doors of Gallagher. She stopped when she saw the group of people waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Cammie, Bex, Liz, Macey, and Zach all stood with Hale and Gabrielle, Simon, Hamish, and Angus. At that moment, they weren't two teams, but one. "I guess this is it," Kat said.

Cammie smiled. "I guess so. Keep in touch, okay, Kat?"

Kat nodded, and with that the thieves walked out of the spy mansion, into the limo waiting in the circular drive. No one spoke during the car ride. Everyone had seen too much, gone too long without sleep, and within minutes Kat heard the heavy breathing of her team around her, each engrossed in their own dreams.

Each except one.

"Hey," Hale nudged her, taking her hand.

She smiled up at him. "Hey."

Hale took a deep breath. "You know, watching you with them, I thought maybe, well…" He trailed off and glanced out the window. The countryside was bathed in moonlight, and Kat felt as though she and Hale were the only two people in the world still awake. "I thought you might want to join them," Hale finally finished. "You seemed like you belonged in their lives."

Kat thought back to the Headmistress's office, to the offer they had given her. Kat was sure she would love being a Gallagher Girl, of that she had no doubt. But there was something she was even surer of, as she leaned over and kissed Hale on the cheek.

"I'm right where I belong."