Something confused Hediyeh about the comings and goings from the World Society office. She knew that there was a man named Poulain who supposedly ran the entire operation, but she only saw a bottle-blonde woman leaving the building, and not even she seemed to get out often. From her hotel room across the street, she couldn't see much through the building's windows, just really when lights turned on and off. As dusk fell over the city, the lights in one of the front windows of the building turned on and stayed on for a few minutes before whoever was in the room closed the blinds even tighter and turned the lights off. With a disappointed grunt, Hediyeh dropped her binoculars onto her chest and walked over to the bed, throwing herself upon it and crossing her arms.

When she first made the plans for the trip, it seemed easy. As a young girl, she had no problem mutilating already-dead bodies and watching the training of new recruits, but now that she found herself having to do the actual planning of a killing, she realised how important it was to have a manager like her father. She knew that if he were in charge of this operation, he'd have all the blueprints for the building, the identity of the woman who kept coming and going, some sort of heat detector to see if other people were in the building with the woman, et cetera. In short, she felt completely useless.

As footsteps began walking down the hallway, Hediyeh's ears perked up. Despite doing an impressive job covering her trail, she was always convinced that someone she talked to was going to call child services or the police to report her travelling alone. It didn't matter than her ID said she was sixteen, she just knew that someone would realise she was still incredibly young or that one of the people from either her former life or her father's former life would identify her and report her.

'I already know the layout of the building, so really all we need to do is just start keeping track of who is coming and who is going,' said a man's voice, and Hediyeh's heart skipped a beat. She jumped out of bed, running directly to the door and unlocking it before throwing it open and stepping into the hallway.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked down one side of the dingy hallway then the other, finally seeing Jackson as he turned around to find the source of the noise. Letting out a little squeal, she ran down the hall and jumped at Jackson, who managed to catch her and hold her close to his chest.

'Daddy!' she sobbed as he adjusted her against him for a better grip.

'Hedi, God,' he said into her hair. 'You scared us so badly!'

'I'm sorry, Daddy!' she replied. 'I just wanted to help!'

From her place next to Jackson, Augustine reached up and rubbed Hediyeh's back. 'It's all right, Hedi. Hey, you were able to get us to come all the way out here, weren't you?'

Hediyeh seemed surprised that it was Augustine talking to her. Through her own curtain of dark hair, she looked her nanny up and down. 'I thought you were Mama. Did you marry your boyfriend? Have I been gone that long?'

Augustine looked down at herself and laughed, Jackson joining with her as he pressed his face against Hediyeh. 'We had to use aliases to travel, and Augustine had to use someone else's ID.'

'And this brings up a valid question,' continued Augustine. 'You used my name, didn't you?'

Jackson tipped his head back to look at Hediyeh, who was looking suddenly sheepish. 'I figured that they updated their files so that your birth name wouldn't be on the no-fly list from the Society.'

'Aww,' said Augustine, patting the girl on the head. 'And Lyna said you weren't smart.'

Hediyeh slipped down out of Jackson's arms and looked up at him seriously. 'There's one woman who keeps going in and out of the building. She's a little younger than Mom, about as tall as Augustine, and has dyed blonde hair. When she comes back from wherever she goes, she has things like groceries, files, medication—'

'Medication,' repeated Jackson pensively. 'What kind of medication?'

'The bottles said "amoxicilline,"' she said with a little smile.

'Poulain had a lung removed last year,' said Augustine with a shrug. 'Lung cancer.'

'Anaïs told me,' Jackson replied. 'He developed pneumonia right before she killed herself.'

'There's no way it's still the same illness,' said Augustine incredulously. 'Anaïs has been dead for months. If he still had pneumonia, he... there's just no way. He's old, he has one lung—if he had pneumonia still, he'd be, well, dead.'

'But if he were dead, she wouldn't be taking medication and oxygen tanks in, right?' asked Hediyeh, looking at both of them with wide eyes.

'Oh,' said Augustine quietly. 'Oxygen tanks?'

Hediyeh nodded and then all of them looked with wide eyes down the hall at a person who came out of his room, walking uncomfortably by the group before going to the lift. After the doors slid shut, Jackson put his hand on Hediyeh's back, guiding her to her room's door and turning the key.

'Better to talk inside,' he explained quickly as he pushed her in, Augustine following before Jackson walked into the room, shut the door, and locked it behind him. 'Now what were you about to say about oxygen tanks?'

'Well, I mean... if he's going through oxygen like candy, that can't be good,' she said as she walked to the bed and fell back onto it. 'He's gotta be circling the drain by this point.'

Jackson watched for a long moment as Augustine raised her hand into the air and spun her finger around over and over again before dropping her hand back to her side. 'We came all the way to Geneva to kill a man who is already dying without our intervention?'

'There is a lot more attached to this than just wanting to kill him,' snapped Hediyeh, unexpectedly shoving her father. 'I want him to know what he's done, I want him to know how much he hurt Maman, I want him to know that I hate him!'

He bent down to look at Hediyeh in the eyes with a sarcastic grin on his face. 'And you know, Hedi, he really could not care less.'

With a huge intake of air, Hediyeh pushed forward and knocked Jackson back. He stared at her, stunned, as his daughter walked to the dresser of the room and pulled a semiautomatic pistol from the top drawer. After checking the magazine, she gave a dark look to Jackson before going to the door and unlocking it. She threw it open, not even bothering to close it when she stomped into the hallway. Jackson took a long time to respond, not moving until he heard the door of the elevator roll open. He stepped in the hallway just in time to see it slide shut and immediately ran to the fire escape door, looking through the little window on it just in time to see the girl running down the next flight. He yanked on the door to find that Hediyeh in her great madness had managed to jam the door.

'Shit!' he yelled as he kicked the door, looking back to see Augustine standing looking out of the hotel room. 'Stay here, Augustine. I want you to watch everything from the room and if you feel like something's happened, call the police.'

She didn't argue, just nodded and went back into the room. Stepping back, Jackson took careful aim at the door and kicked it as hard as he could. It budged slightly, so he took aim again and kicked it even harder two more times before it flung open. There was basically no delay before he began sprinting down the stairs after his daughter.

When he got to the lobby, however, she was already nowhere to be seen. As he ran across the place, he could see that she wasn't even on the street any longer. Cursing under his breath, he slammed against the front doors of the hotel and ran onto the street, sliding across the hood of the car of a very surprised and more than moderately upset driver. When he landed on the other side, he immediately made the final dive to the front door of the building. Hediyeh had shot a hole in the door, shattering the entire pane of glass covering it and destroying the lock in the process, so it was insanely easy for him to just walk in.

He crunched over the glass before speaking in a harsh whisper. 'Hediyeh!'

Leaning forward, he looked both directions down the hallway before turning to the left and immediately taking a right to go up a flight of stairs. Framed in the light coming through a window on the landing was his daughter, her entire body locked into position as she pointed the handgun up the stairs at something or someone he couldn't see. Freezing on the second step, he tried to make out any shape on the glass, but all he saw was the dark outline of someone standing on the landing above. Crouching down, he waved his arms to try and get Hediyeh's attention. Her eyes flittered down to him for just a moment, but it was enough time for him to put his hands in the shape of a gun and point to himself.

Closing her eyes, Hediyeh dropped down her arms and took a deep breath before throwing the gun down the stairs and dropping to the floor. After catching it, Jackson barely paused before shooting directly above him. Plaster from the ceiling rained down on his head before he ran up the stairs, turning immediately to aim the gun at whoever was standing on the landing, but he found once he got up there that the person had fallen. For a moment, he thought he'd miraculously managed to actually kill someone through a ceiling, but right as he started to mentally congratulate himself, the person stood and limped to the railing.

Much to his surprise, he was faced with the familiar face of Phoebe Couturier.

From what he could see in the half-light radiating from the window, her hands were covered in blood and it was her foot he'd managed to pierce from below. If she had a gun in the first place, she'd obviously dropped it on the floor, so he slowly lowered the gun in his hands to meet her eyes. Hediyeh, on the other hand, stayed down on the ground, only looking through the railing to see what Jackson had managed to do to the woman.

'Phoebe,' Jackson murmured.

'You're not with Nitsa,' she said softly.

'Nitsa is dead,' replied Jackson stiffly, raising his eyebrows.

Phoebe nodded jerkily. 'We wondered where you'd run off to.'

'I went home,' he responded simply.

'And now you're back for revenge?'

He considered it for a moment. 'No.'

She gave him a pained look, leaning heavily against the rail. Hediyeh finally stood up, squeezing herself between Jackson's arm and his waist. He rubbed her back nervously as he held the gun laxly to his side.

'I just want to know why,' Jackson said finally. 'Why now? Why not before I met Lisa? Why not before Jonathan was born?'

'He tried to kill you when you were still in the hospital,' Phoebe said, obviously trying to make him feel better.

'But then you were sent to help me,' he replied quickly.

'It was like a game between Anaïs and my grandfather,' she said to him. 'I got put on Anaïs' team because she contacted me before Eleni did. We just fulfil whatever contract we're given—you know that.'

He pinched his lips together, but Hediyeh could tell when she looked at his face that he completely understood where Phoebe was coming from.

'You know my wife is pregnant,' he said with some difficulty. 'And you also know it was a hard pregnancy even before you let Eleni push Anaïs to kill herself. I just...'

'It's because he's so sick,' Phoebe said. 'You left him, and he—'

'We had an agreement,' Jackson replied strongly, lifting his hand from Hediyeh's back to point at Phoebe emphatically. 'I signed all the papers, I agreed to everything that was stipulated in the contracts, I never asked for help from the Society—'

'You had Lyna working for you!'

'I didn't ask Lyna to work for me!' he said, breaking away from his daughter and walking up the stairs.

'You accepted her help and that was a breach of contract,' she replied with more than a little malice. 'You broke the contract you signed, and that left you open to taking jobs again.'

'That... that's a bunch of shit!'

'It's a handy little loophole.'

Jackson glared at her. 'I didn't accept this job. I didn't agree to go around the world killing people again.'

'You signed the contract for the killings,' she murmured, backing up a little from him.

'Under duress.'

'Not under duress.'

He narrowed his eyes before speaking through his teeth. 'Signing something under the influence of diazepam is the same as signing something under duress.'

They entered into a glaring contest before Jackson spoke again, not breaking his stare.

'Hediyeh, go back across the street right now and stay with Augustine,' he said quietly.

'But Dad—'

'Now,' he interrupted. 'I have business to deal with, and I don't need you here distracting me.'

With a theatrical sigh followed by a little whimper, Hediyeh carefully stepped to the edge of the landing, looking at the two before slowly going down the stairs. Jackson kept his solid position as he listened carefully for the telltale sound of crushing glass to let him know that Hediyeh had begun her crossing of the road in front of the building. Once the crunching stopped, he lined up the gun again and pointed it at Phoebe before bending down at scooping up the gun she'd been holding, sticking it down the back waistband of his pants.

'Take me to see him,' he said coldly.

Phoebe swallowed audibly, holding her blood-covered hands up as she began to walk slowly away from him and down the hallway towards Poulain's office. It was completely dark in the hall except for the rectangle of light coming from the antechamber of the office. Once they reached the door, Phoebe turned left and walked in, Jackson following very close behind with the barrel of the gun pressed against her hair.

Directly in front of them was Anaïs Vioget's desk, the brown leather chair behind the ornate desk sitting empty. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could remember the first time he managed to make it to Geneva, being greeted by the very pleasant Pointee woman immediately. As he sat down in one of the chairs in the corners of the room, she'd brought him coffee and biscotti before going in to inform Poulain of his arrival. She was always hospitable and professional, and thinking about how horribly she was treated near the end was painful for him to think about. She was his protector.

Even as Phoebe moved behind the wall that the desk was against, Jackson lingered. There was the click of one of the two doors to Poulain's office opening, and as Phoebe opened it and paused to look back at him, he could hear the sound of coughing and ragged breathing.

'What happened?' came a weak, breathy voice, and Jackson snapped from his musings.

Phoebe was silent as Jackson's hands slipped into Poulain's view, the gun pressed to her forehead. 'Step forward.'

Closing her eyes and biting her lip, she moved sideways to let him in behind her. Immediately, Jackson's nose was stung by the smell of antiseptic and medications, but it wasn't until he took his eyes from Phoebe and looked toward the old man that he realised just how dire the situation was.

He didn't have any clear recollection of Poulain's condition during his fugue, but he was moderately sure that he must not have spent much time around him because even in a fugue state, he had a feeling this wasn't something he'd easily forget. The man's skin was paper thin, every vein apparent. He'd wasted away, every wrinkle seemingly growing deeper as he lost weight. Held to his face by a weak hand was a blood-streaked mask attached to an oxygen tank, but the moment he saw Jackson's attention turn to him, he dropped it.

When Phoebe suddenly moved, he cocked the gun, but when he saw that she was walking over to Poulain, he lowered the weapon. Bending down to her grandfather's bed, she carefully picked up the mask and wiped the blood out with a wet rag before placing it gently back to his face. After staring for a moment, Jackson put the safety on the gun and slipped it into the waistband of his pants next to Phoebe's service weapon. He walked over to the bed, standing about a metre from Poulain's feet. The old man looked at him with tired blue eyes as Phoebe sat down in the chair next to him, taking her grandfather's hand.

'Hello, my boy,' the man managed.

'Hello,' Jackson replied awkwardly, not entirely sure how to respond.

'Jackson came to say good-by,' offered Phoebe, bending down closer to Poulain's ear. 'He's found his way home to his family.'

Poulain nodded slowly but did not speak again.

'What was the point of all of this?' Jackson asked, taking a couple of steps forward and putting his hands on the footboard.

'You left,' Matthias replied. 'And I don't trust anyone else.'

Pressing his lips together, Jackson looked off to the side. 'So it's over?'

'It's over,' he said softly. 'They're all gone.'

Jackson nodded, closing his eyes. 'You'll leave us all alone now? No one will come take me, no one will be watching my every move?'

The man shook his head.

Looking up again to watch Matthias, Jackson's jaw tensed and he raised his eyebrows, trying to stop his eyes from tearing up. 'And when you're gone, everyone will leave Leese and our kids alone?'

A little smile came over Matthias' face as Phoebe looked over at him, squeezing his hand. 'Your son and daughter will be born into a completely different world.'

'I have to know,' Jackson said. 'You didn't plan for me to come ho—'

'I did,' the old man replied. 'I warned Watson.'

'Warned her about what?' asked Jackson, leaning forward a bit.

'That Nitsa was coming,' he said before coughing, bloody greenish phlegm again splattering on the mask. He collected himself as Phoebe gave him a sad look and again took the mask to clean it off. 'The day, the time, the place. I knew she would kill Nitsa.'

Phoebe placed the mask back on his face. 'Papy, you need to stop talking so much.'

'Oh, what's the point, my Phébi?' he asked softly. 'We both know it's over.'

She gave him a pitiful look before taking his hand again and frowning at Jackson.

'I knew that you could do the job the best, but also knew you wouldn't accept it,' he said to the younger man. 'Nitsa promised that she could get you back for me.'

'My wife is pregnant, and you took me away from her,' Jackson hissed more vehemently than he'd originally intended.

Poulain closed his eyes. 'I expected to live a lot longer than this, my boy. Sometimes timing doesn't work in anyone's favour.'

Reaching up, Jackson rubbed his eyes before putting the tips of his fingers against his lips. 'I hurt her. I tried to kill her. And then our daughter decided to come after you for revenge and Lisa was so stressed, she went into early labour. I think in this case, the timing worked out a lot better for you than it did for my family.'

'You were always a better manager than I was,' admitted Matthias with a laugh. 'I didn't make any allowance for deviations in my plans for this. I thought you would go home and everything would just go back to normal for you.'

'It's because you've never had a family,' Jackson said, looking at the man with an odd mix of pity and spite. 'You have no idea how everyone is affected by something like this and how much it hurts to feel as though you've been abandoned by someone you love completely unconditionally.'

Phoebe sniffled quietly, reaching up to rub at her eyes. Jackson raised an eyebrow at her, wondering exactly what it was in his impromptu speech that would make her cry.

'You're like Lucien,' Poulain explained. 'Both of my boys abandoned me for love.'

'I'm sorry,' Jackson said awkwardly.

'Nothing to be sorry for,' Matthias replied before coughing lightly. 'I loved my job, that was my life, and you just went your own way.'

Jackson laughed softly. 'And now the Society is defunct.'

'You were right,' the old man said. 'People are becoming accustomed to assassinations and terrorism, so we can't send a solid message anymore. There's no point to our existence. What was it you said? Any yahoo?'

'Any yahoo with a bomb strapped to him can do what we were supposed to do,' Jackson said. 'People don't need to pay managers and assassins anymore, and they haven't needed to for years.'

Matthias Poulain nodded again. 'I held out hope.'

'Let justice be done, though the world perishes,' Jackson replied, thinking about the seal of the Society, an emblem he'd seen more times than he could count starting from that moment he first saw it on his files in Dr Greene's office.

'Nescis, mi fili, quantilla sapientia regitur mundus,' said Poulain back to him, and when Jackson just looked at him, confused, he translated. 'Know, my son, with how little wisdom the world is ruled.'

Jackson smiled at the man's subtle poke at his own ineptness in recognising the end. 'Don't be too hard on yourself.'

'You were very good, my boy,' Poulain said after a long moment. 'Better than any other employee. I'm happy you're doing what you love.'

'Banking?' Jackson asked gauchely.

Poulain laughed at him before continuing slightly lasciviously. 'Your wife.'

Phoebe and Jackson laughed quietly and then silence filled the room before Poulain spoke once again.

'Phoebe will be taking care of all of my final arrangements,' said Poulain slowly. 'Once you leave here, you have no other obligations.'

'Thank you,' he managed.

'I have one last thing to ask of you,' Poulain continued quite seriously. 'But I would like for my granddaughter to leave the room.'

Jackson looked at Phoebe. For a moment, she seemed like she was going to fight leaving, but once she looked at the sternness in her grandfather's eyes, she leaned over and gave him a little kiss before standing and walking to the door, looking back at Jackson as she walked out of the room. Once the door clicked behind her, Poulain focused his attention on Jackson once more.

'You have a gun with you,' he stated.

'Two, actually,' said Jackson, patting his back with a half-smile.

'I want you to shoot me,' he said incredibly calmly. 'My granddaughter seems to think I can last forever like this, but I'm tired. I just want you to come over here and shoot me in the temple.'

Jackson's eyes widened as he rested his hand on one of the guns. 'Are... are you serious?'

'I don't lie about things like this, my boy,' Poulain replied, giving him a comforting smile. 'Please, I ask nothing else of you.'

After looking down at the floor for a moment, Jackson pulled out the gun Hediyeh had brought with her and took off the safety, checking the magazine just as the girl had in the hotel room. He closed his eyes as he put it back in place and walked to Poulain's side. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his arm and pressed the barrel to Matthias' temple.

'Let's just hope you have better aim than you did in Abuja,' the old man said with a laugh, and Jackson smiled.

'I'm really a surprisingly good shot,' he replied, slowly putting tension on the trigger.

'Never lie, Jackson,' Poulain said, closing his own eyes.

'I never do,' he said back. 'Thank you.'

Looking at the calm face of his former mentor, Jackson finally squeezed the trigger, not even flinching at the discharge. As blood began creeping over the pillow from the head wound, Jackson stood completely still, even when Phoebe came back into the room sobbing. Pushing past him, she put her hands on either side of her grandfather's face before dropping down to put her forehead on his chest. As he watched her, his own vision growing slightly cloudy, Jackson dropped the gun in his hand and then pulled Phoebe's service weapon from his pants and placed it quietly on the chair next to the bed. Numbly, he turned away from her and walked out of the office.

Once he left Anaïs' office, he felt the most immense catharsis he'd ever felt in his entire life.