Author's Note: For whatever reason, I see this story being told in reverse, so I am. All of the times are in reference to the present scene, aka the prologue. To avoid jumping around too much, I leave somethings to be implied. Hopefully, this makes sense. If it doesn't, tell me in a review and I'll fill in the gaps.

Prologue

Across town, Will Pope is at a banquet, with his girlfriend Morgan Winters. She is a beautiful sight: about 5'8, lean, black hair and smoky dark eyes. She looks about 30 years his junior but looks could be deceiving. He is sure that she is the one who has his heart, forever, but if he knew who she really was, then he would not feel this way. If he knew who she was, he most certainly would not be sitting next to her, not while she has the muzzle of a high powered assault rifle aimed at her chest, not while her death is imminent as soon as the sniper got the final signal, and most certainly not while his ex-lover is staring through the sight, seeing everything with her high-powered scope. The gun had the best wind/element adjuster money could buy. The shot is foolproof. All that needed to happen was ….

"Are you ready?"

"Say the word."

Six Hours Earlier

Brenda Leigh Johnson had a very big problem. It may have been possible that Flynn came to her in a desperate situation. It may have happened that Flynn's daughter was seriously injured in an shooting that killed her new husband, that the killer was aiming for her husband's boss who was also dead, and that Flynn was so consumed by payback that he lost his mind. Brenda may have refused to help Flynn get revenge, very sympathetic to his position, but unwilling to let him fall apart when his daughter needed him to be strong. But then again, Brenda may have reverted to her old ways and not stopped an extra-judicial killing when it seemed fitting for the circumstances.

Now, she was in trouble. At best, she could get fired for being negligent with files from her office. At worse, she could be facing an accessory to murder charge, or conspiracy to commit murder, or both if the DA is extra generous.

An old friend offered Brenda a solution to her problem, and Brenda was sure that it would be dreadful. The only way to make a murder magically drop of the radar was by doing something even worse than the murder itself. Brenda dreaded what was on the other side of that door, but she had to face it. After all the things that the Baylor trial put her through, put Fritzi through, she could not face a criminal trial. She had to escape it, and she would do whatever the agency told her to do.

She was called inside.

"Brenda, it's been a long time."

"Elaine, glad to see you have been both reinstated and promoted."

"You always did know when to compliment people. Andrew taught you well." [Cough from too many cigarettes]

"Now, that we have that out of the way, let's get down to it. I'm screwed. You know I'm screwed, and you have something that will get me un-screwed, provided I don't screw it up and end up dead or double-screwed. So what is it?"

Elaine laughed. "That's pretty much where we are, aren't we. You've been talking to Caitlin. You know she's back."

The dreaded Morgan Winters, aka, Ghostface. She was responsible for many murders, but no one ever saw her face; it was rumored she didn't have one, although she was actually quite pretty. Why else would Pope have taken her on as his first girlfriend since becoming Chief of Police. Brenda had seen to it that she was deported months earlier when they couldn't arrest her, but somehow (Will Pope) she got back into the United States with a visa. The CIA was antsy. She was a security threat, but she could not be arrested. The State Department was adamant. The United States had something to hide and they would rather risk another killing spree than bring her into custody.

"I knew it was only a matter of time." Caitlin had first asked Brenda to help track her down, when they got word that Ghostface was in LA. It took her all of one hour to figure out Morgan was with Pope. She thought that was a she had to do. Little did she know that this was the beginning and not the end.

"Well, she needs to be stopped, tonight."

"She'll finally be arrested." There were many murders in different countries. She would rot in jail, somewhere.

"Not exactly." Elaine gave Brenda a look. Come on, you know where this is going!

Brenda finally got her drift. "You want me too …." She knows I can't do this. I'm not a killer.

"We don't want you to. We need you. We won't be able to get anyone else ready in time."

"I can't do that. I can't just kill someone, no matter how much I dislike her."

"Think of it as absolution"

"How will this absolve me?"

"Well, the Richards case will disappear, absolving you and Flynn of any liability, criminal or otherwise, or you too can both face jail, leaving his daughter and your husband both reeling. The choice is yours." Elaine was messing with her friend, which she didn't want to do, but she needed Brenda, and she knew if Brenda wouldn't do this for herself, she would do it for her loved ones.

Brenda was trying to slow down her breathing, so she didn't pass out. She couldn't believe she was about to become what she always dreaded. She walked a fine line between justice and murder, but she never crossed it, not even to catch Stroh. How could she do this?

She had to, though, for Fritz. He could never know about Richards. She promised him she had changed after Terrell Baylor, and for a while she had, but when she heard about what happened to Flynn, all she felt was rage. She didn't think twice about leaving Flynn alone with the file. What he did with his resources was up to him!

And now, Brenda needed to think about the scales. Her personal sense of morality vs. her future and her husband, Flynn's future and his daughter, and Provenza's future. If she crossed her faded line, they could all just walk away. No one, but her and Elaine, would ever have to know, and it's not like Elaine was in any position to judge Brenda's morality anyway. Brenda would just be living a lie, one more to add to the pile. "When and where," she finally said, once she knew her voice wouldn't shake.

Two Weeks Ago

A special investigator, Quinn Jacobs had been assigned the Richards case and she wanted to nail Flynn (and now Brenda) to the wall. She offered a deal if Brenda would flip on Flynn, but Brenda refused to cooperate. "I have nothing to contribute to this case," she said, vaguely, not even invoking her Fifth Amendment right to remain silent. She did not confirm or deny meeting Flynn at all in her office, much less leaving the Richards file out. "I was at a meeting," she lied. Jacobs couldn't prove otherwise. Flynn wouldn't speak to her at all, he did invoke.

All Jacobs had was Flynn was the one with a motive and Johnson was the one who could tell him where Richards lived, and allegedly Flynn had gone into her building one morning, but she couldn't prove that Flynn killed him or that Johnson even told Flynn where Richards was living, and she did have a meeting, which she did attend around the time Flynn had allegedly been there. Jacobs was furious, but she was not going down without a fight. She would get them both, at all costs.

One Month Earlier

"I wish I could help you Flynn, but I cannot give you any information- if I even had it- on Richards. You know why I can't."

Flynn may have cursed her out, kicked over her trashcan which was full of candy wrappers and Brenda may have left hurriedly for a meeting. She might have also left her file on Richards on her desk, on the top, with not much around it. Flynn may have gone to sit down in her chair and calm down and instead, seen what he needed to know He might have taken the address from the file, tracked him down and confronted him.. He might have shot Richards, fatally, in self-defense, as the struggle became deadly. He might be at risk of losing his job or going to jail for life for trying to be there for his daughter when he wasn't there for her childhood.

This risk may be small however, with Provenza and the waitress at their favorite diner willing to provide him an alibi. Without any witnesses to the event or physical evidence to put Flynn at the scene, while there is a receipt from the diner, Flynn may very well walk scot-free, that is, if he is even the killer. Brenda, herself, does not even know if he is, but she does know that if he is the killer, and he gets caught, her behind is next on the chopping block. She knows not to ask questions when she may not want to hear the answer.

Three Months Earlier

"It's her," Brenda was sure of it. It was Ghostface. It had to be her. Brenda never saw the woman's face until now, but she knew that it was her.

"Are you sure?" Caitlin trusted Brenda but this was a crazy development. She hadn't even been a suspect before in that case. The killer had been presumed male.

"I always thought it was a woman," Brenda said quietly. The hands were too soft to be a man's and too small. The figure was slight, and I never saw a face.

"That sounds about right, but why would she go after the Vatican?"

"I don't think she did. An Egyptian diplomat had been killed in France a few days later." Brenda found this out by reading an old French newspaper, the archives you can find online these days. "As it turns out, he and the Pope ate at the same restaurant that day."

Caitlin was trembling. This was not just one more murder. This was the murder that haunted Brenda, and now Brenda's supposed to play it cool and act like nothing's wrong, knowing that she'll be back, at any moment. This could ruin everything. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just think we should check into this."

"Brenda, you know we can't arrest her."

"We can't, but maybe the Swiss can. The US can stay out of it."

Caitlin didn't think this would work. The State Department was adamant about avoiding prosecution, although they did not specifically forbid foreign prosecution, but they would probably put a stop to it if they found out. What to do? Can the Swiss even prove it?

Thirteen Years Earlier

Brenda was so excited to be in Paris with her boyfriend and their job was footing the bill. Now, she needed to get him up. They had a meeting to attend.

"Wake up, wake up!" Brenda called, shaking him up and down as she straddled his hips.

"Brenda," Will groaned. "Will you please leave me alone, so I can sleep?"

"No can do. We have a meeting and you are running late." He turned to see the clock. Does it say ….

"Darn it, Brenda. We're late."

"Duh!" Brenda already showered. She just needed to change. Will, however, was a mess. Last night may have done him in a bit, partially from Brenda but mostly all the wine he drank.

He rushed into the shower and threw on a suit. They walked, arm in arm, to meet with their French counterparts. They were almost there when someone ran out of an alley, pushed Brenda into Pope and ran off. Will picked her up. "Are you okay?"

Brenda wasn't hurt, but she saw blood on her coat. "Will," her voice shaking. "Blood."

He looked at her and Brenda instinctively ran into the alley, where they saw a man bleeding to death. Brenda applied pressure to his chest, but it was too late. He would be dead on arrival. He cried, "tell my mother I'm sorry." The man turned out to be a Swiss guard, there to protect the vatican. He always watched the alley when the Pope was dining. Little did the guard know, his death had little to do with the Pope. His killer had been there for an Egyptian diplomat who happened to like the same restaurant. He lived for that day, but would die another one.

Brenda never forgot the look on his face when he died. She always wondered if they ever caught the person who stabbed him.