Once again thanks to Laura for practically writing this for me. I really appreciate it. I think the next chapter will be the last one but we'll see what happens. Please leave your reviews.

CHAPTER TEN:

Surprise!

Ethan and his team returned safely to the United States and were debriefed by their superiors before given a couple of weeks off to deal with the grief of losing their fellow agent. Even though a couple of months passed by, there was no whisper or rumour of Angelina surfacing stateside and their lives began to return to normal – missions were dealt out and training continued.

Will had a reluctant night off and planned to meet an old friend for a drink but cancelled at the last minute deciding he wasn't the best company at the moment. He moved about his simple apartment, heading into the kitchen to grab a glass from the cupboard and then filled it with a couple cubes of ice from the freezer. He found a half-drunk bottle of Whiskey still sitting beside the fridge and decided tonight was the night to finish it off. It probably didn't help the photo of him and Emma was on the fridge, reminding him of his grief every time he opened the damn door.

He swallowed a mouthful, the harsh liquor burning his throat as it travelled down to his stomach where it settled nicely. He repeated the action three times and began to feel comfortably numb.
After consuming the entire contents of the bottle, and a few remaining beers in the fridge, Will stumbled into his bedroom – somehow managing to pull off his day clothes before he fell into his bed, passing out in a drunken haze.

He woke with a start; his hand clutched his bare chest as he heard a distance bump that made him kick off the blankets, sliding a hand beneath the pillow to retrieve his weapon. He clicked off the safety and walked cautiously towards the door the same time as someone kicked it opened. The force caught Will off guard and he stumbled back, squeezing the trigger and released a couple of rounds hearing the bullets connect with wood.

"You missed!"

He lowered his weapon slightly as a female figure appeared in the doorway, raising her weapon, firing it as he realized it was Angelina. The shock of the Taser pins entering his flesh made his gun slip from his grasp, his body convulsing and falling back onto the bed. The electrical current travelled through him, and he could only helplessly watch as Angelina seized his gun, swinging her arm back as she smacked him in the head with it.

Will woke for a second time with a throbbing headache, and made the mistake of shaking his head. The pain made him groan aloud, but his blurry vision came into focus and he found himself still in his apartment. He couldn't tell how much time had passed but it felt like a lifetime, it wasn't until he squinted that he realized moonlight was filtering through the blinds.

He motioned to touch his head but couldn't move his arms, and glanced down discovering himself tied to a chair, and the metallic taste of blood lingering on his lips.

"Fuck." He moved his arms, winching as the rope burned against his flesh. He peered round the empty apartment where all his belongings appeared to be untouched and the bedroom door was still open, cracked from the violent force of being kicked opened. "Hello?"

"I'm still here Brandt," he frowned as Angelina waltzed out of the bedroom, in a black skin-tight cat suit, his gun in one hand while the other held a piece of paper. "I've just been going through your things. Boy, you held a torch for Emma didn't you?" She smiled holding up a photo of the two of them together.

"What do you want?" He asked trying to loosen the rope, even though it rubbed his flesh red raw.

"I want Emma –"

"She's dead!"

Angelina merely smirked at his remark, walking past and flicking her blonde locks over her shoulder. He heard her rummage around the kitchen and her footsteps pad across the carpet back to him. A large knife flashed in a stray beam of moonlight that flowed nearby, her lips drawing into a higher grin that distorted her features.

"I've got a secret," she tilted her head slightly to one side, leaning closer to press a finger against his temple. He cringed in pain, watching her stare at his blood covering her finger. "Red suits you."

"Some secret," he muttered unkindly.

"You wanna hear my secret or not? It has to do with Emma," she sang, weaving the knife effortlessly through the air before him. He wouldn't lie that his interest was drawn.

"What do you know?"

"She's not dead." She giggled sitting side-on in his lap and trailed her fingers over his bare chest.

"You're lying."

Her big blue eyes stared straight into his, not an ounce of fear held within them as her tongue slid over her pale lips. "No I'm not." She tangled a hand in his hair, yanking him towards her as she pressed her lips hard against his. "You taste like booze," she ran the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip before kissing the corner of his mouth, not minding that he squirmed beneath her.

"Get off me!"

She slid off his lap and disappeared behind him. He hissed as the knife edge ran slowly along his arm.

"Where's Emma?"

"Fuck you!"

"Y'know what?" She rested her chin on his shoulder, speaking softly so every word carried. "I'm gonna make your death look like a suicide, and leave a fitting note where you admitted you couldn't live in this cruel world anymore. That'll make Emma come out of hiding." She giggled, pressing her lips into my cheek as the knife dug deeper into the same cut.

"Fuck you! Emma's dead and soon, you'll be too!"

Her laughter was cut short by someone kicking in the front door; a shot rang out as a bullet went straight through Angelina's head, crimson blood and brain matter spilling from the gaping hole as her body dropped to the floor. Will sat dumbfounded for a moment and then felt his bound hands be released, so he could jump up and come face to face with his saviour. His blue eyes widened in shock as he slowly shook his head.

"No."