Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem

Job #10: The Endgame
Part I

Castle Ylisse: Basement
?

His eyes opened slightly. His vision was blurry, and he could barely see anything.

His hearing however, was unimpaired.

"Where's she go?" asked one of the detectives.

"Did someone let her leave?" asked another loudly.

"Gregor, did you do something stupid?" said a man through a yawn.

"Gregor did nothing! Gregor is not seeing anyone!" shouted a man with a strange accent.

How am I…alive? Rath thought to himself. He distinctly remembered getting shot several times.

He moved slightly. Pain burst through his senses.

And there were the bullets.

Rath surmised that he was in shock. Thankfully due to that, his mind was dulling the pain.

"Stay still," a woman whispered.

The ex-mafia man tried to piece together who it was that spoke to him. Her voice definitely sounded familiar, but Rath was unable to grab the name.

"We got all we came for, let's go look to see if she's on the upper floor," said one of the policemen.

Rath heard the sound of footsteps walking away. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was close," said the woman next to him.

"Who…?" Rath managed to mutter.

"It's me, Lyn," she said. Darkness obscured her face, but Rath was able to recognize her voice now.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she said. "There's an outlet from this basement onto the streets. I've already called an ambulance. Think you can make it?"

Rath nodded very slightly. He felt Lyn pick him up.

Normally he would have given up. But that was not the Sacaen way, especially when there was a woman nearby.

Northern Ylisse: Rabbit's Foot Laboratory
Astol

"You sure about that?" asked Astol with an annoyed voice.

"We've lost the trigger," Sterling said. "The backup plan is our only plan. You better find a spare."

"Are you sure one is here?" Astol spoke, curiously.

"…No. But any chance is better than no chance. Eirika fucked up, and now you're our chance at success," Robin said.

"As long as I get paid, I don't care," Astol said, pulling his car up to the building.

"And one more thing. Erk's dead," Robin said, his voice filled with anger.

"Sucks for him," Astol said, his characteristic lack of empathy.

Robin said nothing. Astol could tell Sterling was angry. But the Thief didn't care. He was getting paid, and that was all he cared about.

"They hacked Erk's computer. Chances are, they know where you are and they're coming to get you," Robin said. Astol quickly grew angry, hearing the undertone in Sterling's voice. He hadn't warned him on purpose.

"Let's see if you live up to your reputation," Sterling said.

"I'll see you in hell," Astol snarled and hung up.

The Thief jumped out of his car while furiously slamming the door. Of course he hadn't been warned. He was just the hired hand.

Walking toward the building he had previously broken into some time ago, Astol continued fuming. If he got killed…well, then there'd be nothing he could do to Sterling.

Growling, he entered the building.

Rabbit's Foot Laboratory
Colm Fletcher

"He's gone in," Colm said calmly.

"Intriguing," Canas said. "He's just walking straight into our trap."

"Must have gotten bad news on the phone," Colm commented.

"He did," Lucia remarked. "He knows we're coming, just not that we're already here."

"Positions," Colm said. The blue haired man was on the side of the building, searching for the best place to scale the wall.

Rabbit's Foot Laboratory
Canas Lannister

Canas calmly walked around the room that had once held the Rabbit's Foot, searching for any clues as to where a trigger might be. He used the umbrella he carried to push aside various stacks of papers that had been left lying about.

"Maybe I should invest in surgery to fix my vision," Canas muttered aloud, as he cleaned his monocle for a third time that night.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on the door at all times," said a voice behind him. Astol.

"Perhaps I did," Canas suggested. "After all, the top side of having a monocle is that it is reflective."

"You saw my reflection in the glass," Astol realized.

"Very astute of you," Canas said. He turned around to face Astol.

Astol held two pistols that were trained on him. "How's it going to be, bookworm?" Astol asked.

"Tut tut," Canas shook his head. "Not very polite. As a wise man once said to me, 'Manners Maketh Man.'"

"I'm not here for a lecture," Astol growled. "I know you're YIA, and I know that you'll know where the trigger is, if it's here. Since you're clearly a bookworm, perhaps you should get onto that task."

Canas lightly shook his head, "I suppose I can teach you something else about monocles. Once you put one on…no one ever takes you seriously."

Canas flipped the umbrella in his hand so it was pointed as Astol. With a deft push, he unfurled the umbrella, still pointing at Astol.

Astol fired both his pistols. The bullets hit the umbrella head with force from the close quarters.

Bulletproof.

The agent allowed himself a small smirk, and clicked the trigger on the umbrella. Out of the tip of the umbrella fired a bullet.

Astol swore as he was hit in the lower chest. He began to fire rapidly, emptying his clips onto Canas' shield.

Canas merely smirked as Astol ducked out of the room, dodging the agent's next shot.

"He's on the move," Canas said, folding up the umbrella.

Rabbit's Foot Laboratory
Lucia Devereau

Lucia ignored all the chatter she heard from Canas and Colm. The blue haired woman focused on the task in front of her.

Which consisted of a bomb with enough explosive power to engulf half of the building.

The hard part about her job was the trip wire. Every entrance to the room was wired. And if Lucia slipped and touched one of those wires…

Not very good.

Rabbit's Foot Laboratory
Colm Fletcher

Colm peeked through the gap in the ventilation shaft and saw his target run ever so closer. Thankfully, Astol was too preoccupied with his wound to notice.

As the Thief arrived directly under Colm, the agent jumped down from his perch and tackled Astol.

"Fuckin—" Astol swore before Colm's foot connected with his mouth.

Unfortunately for the blue haired man, he landed awkwardly and bashed his head on the wall.

Not his most graceful moment.

As Colm began to regain his senses, he lost them again as Astol kicked him in the face.

"Payback's a bitch, huh!?" Astol shouted, not letting the pain get the better of his one liner.

Colm collapsed to the ground again, swearing quietly. He was thankful Astol hadn't just killed him. Either the man was a coward, or he really wanted to get out of there.

"Come now," a familiar voice said. "We haven't all day."

Colm looked up from his fallen position and saw Canas standing above him. "You look like a bonafide gentleman," Colm said with a cough.

"I suppose I do, don't I?" Canas said, allowing a laugh and smile while swinging his umbrella. "Now, let's go. He's likely going to make it to Lucia's position before long—"

BOOOOOOOM!

Silence…

"Shit."

It didn't matter who said it, because they both said it. Colm jumped up, completely snapped out of his stupor. Canas lead the way.

"Son of a bitch!"

This time it was Colm. When they arrived at the explosion sight, there was hardly a room left to recognize.

But they didn't need help figuring out who the two bodies were, despite their charred appearances.

Ylisstol Central Airport
Sigurd Di'Arganan

"I'm going in," Sigurd said between sips of his water. He swung around in the bar and began to walk towards Tharja.

As the blue haired man walked, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. After putting them on, the agent fumbled around in his other pocket for a rubber band and ponytailed his hair.

That, along with his casual appearance, would have to suffice for a disguise. Tharja knew Ishtar's appearance and Priam…wasn't very good with disguises.

"I'm in position," Sigurd breathed. "At your ready."

Almost as soon as he said it, Priam emerged from around the corner. He kept his head down, just like Sigurd had instructed. And he 'accidentally' knocked Tharja over.

Also like Sigurd had instructed.

"Are you alright?" Sigurd asked his target as Priam hurried away.

"I'm fine. Some people should watch where they walk," growled Tharja.

"Busy day for some, I guess," Sigurd shrugged. "Here, let me help you with that."

The agent bent down and picked up Tharja's suitcase (Not before planting a homing device in one of the side pockets). "What gate are you?" Sigurd asked.

"Thirteen," Tharja replied.

"Ha!" Sigurd exclaimed, "I'm at twelve. I'll walk with you."

The two unlikely companions walked through the masses of people towards their respective gates.

"Hope you have a nice flight," Sigurd said as he turned towards gate twelve. The agent gave her a slight smile, just for kicks.

"And you as well," Tharja replied and left in her direction.

Sigurd's flight was still thirty minutes from take-off. Not like he was going on it, but it gave him an alibi as to why he sat down on one of the various chairs near the gate.

"You're up," Sigurd said to the woman reading a newspaper next to him.

"I'm not blind," she replied, though not coldly.

"Just saying in case those comics were just too interesting for you to pay attention to the job," Sigurd said, pulling out his laptop.

Ishtar spared him a glare before folding up the paper and walking towards gate thirteen.

Sigurd chuckled to himself before unfolding his laptop.

Ylisstol Central Airport: Airplane
Ishtar Reeves

Ishtar didn't like sunglasses. She never had. It always made the room darker, and harder to see in. Why would anyone wear sunglasses inside? Outside, she could understand. But indoors?

Though admittedly, she looked pretty badass.

When her boarding number was called, Ishtar proceeded towards the ticket scanner. He scanned the ticket, wished her a nice flight and called the next number in three seconds.

Someone must have been employee of the month.

Ishtar strutted down the jetway and into the plane. Tharja was already on the plane and sitting in the back, just as Sigurd had coordinated.

As she passed her husband three rows up from where Ishtar would sit, the agent nodded at Priam. Priam winked at her, but otherwise betrayed nothing.

Ishtar avoided Tharja's gaze just in case as she sat down in the same row, but other side of the plane from Tharja.

The back row was empty besides Tharja and Ishtar. Just as Sigurd had arranged. Everything was going to plan.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the package is in the mail," Sigurd said.

Ylisstol Central Airport
Sigurd Di'Arganan

Sigurd took a sip from the coffee he bought from a shop nearby. It was cheap, and Sigurd needed caffeine. Everyone was happy.

Well, Tharja wouldn't be for long.

The agent pulled up the video file he had prepared. With a few quick keystrokes, he had the prepared email up as well. Attaching the video took longer. The clock saying three minutes.

Sigurd watched as the plane took off. Hopefully things would go well for his two compatriots. And Sigurd didn't see why things wouldn't. They might be playing the bad guy role at the moment, but why would that mean things wouldn't go well?

The agent's computer went ding!

Sigurd hit send. Now he just had to wait while the other two did the heavy lifting.

Airplane
Ishtar Reeves

Ishtar cast a discreet look at Tharja. She had just taken out her laptop. It was only a matter of time.

The mark pulled out some earbuds. Ishtar allowed herself a satisfied smirk. She loved it when things went to plan.

Tharja began to watch the video she had been sent. Ishtar stared at the timer on her watch.

Once roughly enough time had passed, Ishtar stood up. Tharja of course, didn't notice. Had Ishtar been in her position, she doubted she'd have noticed either.

But Sterling's operative did notice when Ishtar sat down beside her in the other seat.

"You've got questions," Ishtar prompted.

"Yeah. How the fuck did you get my daughter?!" Tharja snarled. She turned the computer towards Ishtar showing a young woman tied to a chair. The video was paused. But the rest of the video had been proving that it was indeed Tharja's daughter, Noire.

"Will you cooperate?" Ishtar asked.

"I don't have to deal with you," Tharja said, reaching up to the large red button above her seat. The one that called the flight attendant to one's seat.

"No need for that," Ishtar grabbed Tharja's hand. "I think we can resolve things ourselves. Plus I've got some hired muscle a few seats up. I really don't want him involved."

"I can take you and some other guy," Tharja muttered quietly.

"What if that other guy is Priam?" Ishtar grinned.

"…Fuck you," Tharja muttered, leaning back in defeat.

"Now here's how things will go," Ishtar said, removing her sunglasses. "You will reply to this email with the precise details on how to deactivate the Rabbit's Foot. Then, I shall make the call and release your daughter."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" Tharja said incredulously.

"Better us than Sterling. He's had Noire captive for the past five months. He just hadn't told you," Ishtar shrugged.

"You lie," accused Tharja.

Ishtar pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number quickly, "Hello…Celice? Yes, it's me. Put Noire on."

The agent watched Tharja from the corner of her eye, "Alright young lady, I'm going to put your mommy on. And you're going to tell you how long you've been kidnapped."

Ishtar held the phone to Tharja's ear, not relinquishing her hold on it.

"Noire…?" Tharja whispered. Ishtar was pleased to see the distress was real.

"Five…?" Tharja began. "Honey, don't worry. Everything's going to be alrigh—"

Ishtar hung up, "The email, if you please."

Tharja turned toward her computer numbly and began typing. She attached several files from her computer to the email. When she hit send, Ishtar touched her ear and asked, "Did you get that?"

"I see it. Let's end this," Sigurd replied.

Ishtar hit redial on her cellphone and said, "We're good Celice. Let her go."

The woman hung up and turned to Tharja, "And that's that. Thank you for your cooperation."

"You bitch," snarled Tharja.

"Now, now," Ishtar cautioned. "You should listen to what I have to say. Both Sterling's men and ours will be coming after you. The only difference is that ours won't look as hard. If you and your daughter pack up and head for Valm, it is unlikely you'll be caught."

Tharja glared at her. Ishtar stood up and sat back down in her original seat.

One long hour later, the plane landed. Tharja was the first one off, abandoning her luggage. Ishtar chuckled and waited patiently until she and Priam were the only two left. Then they calmly exited.

"You did well," Praim said with approval.

"I'm just glad we didn't have to kill her," Ishtar admitted. "She was just a scientist. Perhaps she didn't even join Sterling willingly."

"Who knows?" Priam shrugged. "But more importantly, we're stuck in Plegia City with nothing to do."

"I think I could think of something to do," Ishtar said slyly.

"We could spar," suggested Priam. "I know a guy who owns a gym around here. He could get us in for free."

"I was thinking of a…different kind of sparring," Ishtar said, a coy smirk dancing across her features.

"Huh…? Oh…OH!" Priam said, realization hitting him all at once.

Ishtar only laughed.

"Just make sure to mute your coms, lovebirds. Some of us have actual work to do," Sigurd said, though Ishtar could tell he was partially laughing.

Northern Ylisse: Sain's Car
Sain Bond

"I've got some good news," Sain called back from the passenger seat of the car.

"Let's hear it," Hector said.

"Mark Strife and Farina are going to meet us. Their bringing along a detective too," Sain said.

"A detective? What the hell kind of good is a detective going to do?" Cath asked from the driver's seat.

"Ever heard of a 'Stahl Donivore?'" Sain asked as he checked his phone, making sure he got it right.

"Hang on," Hector said, pulling out his laptop. After a minute, he had results. "So this Donivore guy, he's a pretty popular guy. He and some of his buddies bagged the Sacaen Mafia. And as I check the YIA's database…he's HBI."

"Shit, really?" Sain said, surprised.

"Yep," Hector affirmed. "He was their leading man on Kellam Anderson. No wonder Mark's bringing him."

"We've got bigger problems," Marisa suddenly spoke up.

"Such as?" Cath asked, not taking her eyes off the road.

"The same car has been following us for the past thirty miles," Marisa said.

"We've barely taken any turns in thirty miles," Sain said. "Doesn't mean he's following us."

"He was also at the gas station, however long ago that was," Marisa argued.

"Well…damn," Cath muttered. "Can you ID him?"

"Lloyd Reed," Marisa said, without any hesitation. "Black Fang."

"Fuck," Sain said. "Think he's here for revenge?"

"Let's pull over," Hector suggested. "Sain and Marisa get out, I shoot him if he tries anything. Deal?"

"Sounds good to me," Sain said. He turned to Cath, "Pull over, if you will m'lady."

Cath rolled her eyes, but pulled the car over to the side of the road. Lloyd's car mirrored the move and came up almost directly behind their car.

Sain opened his door as he heard Hector lock and load. He and Marisa glanced at each other, nodded, and got out of the car.

Lloyd did the same. Except he came with his hands raised to the sky. Marisa pulled a pistol on him, no saying a word.

"I did what I had to," Lloyd said. "But before you judge me, wait five minutes. That's all I ask for. Give an old friend five more minutes."

"You murdered Renault," Marisa growled.

"Kellam Anderson murdered Renault," Lloyd countered.

Marisa shook her head, "You lured us there. You knew he was there, and let us walk into a trap."

"Five minutes, it's all I ask," Lloyd said. Sain was perfectly willing to give it to him. Lloyd had no escape, not with Marisa and Hector aiming at him. And probably Cath as well, Sain added in an afterthought.

But they didn't have to wait five minutes.

A motorcycle slammed on the breaks as he got closer to them. Sain estimated that whoever it was had to have been going at least twice the speed limit. And of course, Sain's only thought was that the person's ride was a damn good one.

The man drew closer. Sain could tell it was a man, due to his lack of certain…parts that women had that Sain considered himself an expert on. I'm never saying that out loud, Sain resolved. And no hair stuck out of the helmet he wore as well.

The motorcyclist drew to a stop alongside both of the cars. Marisa stared at the newcomer, but didn't shift her gun away from Lloyd.

The man reached up to his helmet and took it off.

"Miss me?" a gruff voice asked.

It was Renault.

Author Note: So I decided to end Astol and Tharja this chapter. Meh, I didn't want to give you guys anything less than my usual 3k words. And I bet you didn't see that beginning section coming! You can thank Cookie for the idea. And Renault's back. Huzzah! Next chapter WILL be the beginning of the end. Kellam and Robin. I've got a plan for the latter. Kind of a plan. And something of an idea for Kellam. But there's only two chapters left. I decided to merge the epilogue with the last chapter. Get hyped!

Also, remember how I said that bit about the death count two chapters ago? I forgot to mention it last chapter, but the answer was 48. I killed 48 people. As the current count is… 54! I wonder if I can hit 60…