A/N: Alright, you should all know how it works by now. After 36 disclaimers, you should know that I definitely don't own Glee. Personally, it would be a dream come true just to be on Glee (well, a writer or something not an actor).

Oh, and I don't own any Frank Sinatra songs either. i probably forgot to mention that in the earlier chapter.

Chapter 37: Calling all the Shots

Mr. Potter threw Mr. Lang onto the floor and he grabbed a piece of rope from a hidden compartment in the chair next to them. Mr. Potter was filled with rage again. He couldn't believe that he had been betrayed, but then again he had been betrayed countless times again. Everyone seemed to think he was too stupid to figure out their little plans, but of course he always did. He had had a lovely twenty year career of different cons and illegal businesses. He had been a therapist and so many other things too.

"Did you like my singing Mr. Lang?"

Mr. Lang scowled and just watched as the bounds on him got tighter and tighter. His hands and feet were numb within a minute or so.

"You didn't answer, so I bet you liked my singing. I think I'll sing another song as I dismember you. I haven't killed in so long. I mean there was Moses and Holmes, but you know it just wasn't that satisfying. I didn't get to take my time with it."

"You do realize he was your son right?"

"Of course I did, that was the best part," he said with a sick smile on his face.

"You're a sick, twisted bastard."

"Oh, I know. That's why I think I'll sing. Maybe it will just drive you a little crazier."

Potter placed a gag over his face and he started in on another Sinatra tune.

Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wond'ring in the night
What were the chances we'd be sharing love
Before the night was through.

Mr. Holden decided to start with Mr. Lang's feet. He took off his shoes and socks gingerly. He laid the knife there for a second and then he began to cut. He carefully began to take the skin off of the toes and foot.

"Your body is beautiful, Mr. Lang."

Something in your eyes was so inviting,
Something in your smile was so exciting,
Something in my heart,
Told me I must have you.

"You should know I'm dead serious about that. I really must have you all to myself. I need you. I need you to quench my desires. Quench my desire to kill that is," his laugh pierced the air.

Strangers in the night, two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment
When we said our first hello.
Little did we know
Love was just a glance away,
A warm embracing dance away and –

Mr. Lang struggled to stay sane. He tried to stay calm despite the terrible pain Mr. Potter was causing him. He could see that he had gotten all of the skin off of the toes and he was already working on the feet. The blood was pooling on the floor, but he could still see the muscle and tissue in his foot. He continued to watch the blood gush out of his veins in a timely manner. His heart raced and that just caused the blood to pour out faster. He tried to calm down, but Mr. Potter had a way of making him go crazy.

Ever since that night we've been together.
Lovers at first sight, in love forever.
It turned out so right,
For strangers in the night.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be doing this again. You could never guess."

Mr. Lang tried to say something from underneath the gag, but it was impossible.

Love was just a glance away,
A warm embracing dance away –

Mr. Holden slowly worked his way up the leg. He thought that the muscles on Mr. Lang were beautiful. It had been such a long time since he had done this. It felt so good to get back in the game. It felt so good to cause someone so much pain. He had even beat a personal record of the most skin in one go. He was halfway up the leg with his knife and the skin still hadn't broken. He felt a swell of pride inside.

"Look at that. I still have it. It really is gorgeous. Your blood is so enchanting. If only you could look Mr. Lang. You'd love it," he said moaning.

Mr. Lang decided it wouldn't be a good idea to try and mention that he could, in fact, see.

Ever since that night we've been together.
Lovers at first sight, in love forever.
It turned out so right,
For strangers in the night.

There was a knock at the door. Mr. Potter finally broke the skin and cursed loudly. He got up to answer the door.

Do dody doby do
do doo de la
da da da da ya

The door burst open and Jim Richter stepped inside of the apartment.

"Step away from the body, Holden!" he yelled, pointing his gun.

"Oh, so you know about my little name?" he said calmly.

"Of course I do. We all do. Why do you think Lang is here?"

"I'll never forgive you for this. I will hunt your family down and kill them," he said speaking to Jim and Mr. Lang.

"Good thing I don't have a family. I'm really glad I didn't listen to the PR bastards at MI5," Mr. Richter yelled.

"Damn you, sir. You won't catch me."

"I think I already have."

In one swift movement he shot Mr. Holden in the hand and he stopped him from attacking. He took a gun from his pocket and Richter just shot him again. He fell to the ground and cursed some more. The bullet entered his stomach and he grabbed it in pain.

"You shot me!" he roared.

"I did. We all saw the gun. You made a threat against the prime Minister, you're a killer in general, and just a terrible man. So, I don't think anyone will miss you. We'll connect you to all your crimes and the case will be closed."

"Well, good luck with that. My son is dead, you can't tie me to him or any of those crimes."

"Sadly, the police there already got your DNA."

"That we did!" Herbert Riddle yelled as he walked over to the man.

Jim Richter looked back and saw Herbert. He was confused as to why such a low level law officer had been let into such a high profile investigation. He made a mental note to chew out the intern who had let him in.

In the split second when the officers were distracted, Holden tapped a secret compartment in the table he was propped up against and he got another gun out. He shot off a round, not bothering to take aim.

The stray bullet grazed Jim's shoulders. It didn't cause any pain, but it managed to make him angrier.

Jim turned to face Potter. He was upset and angry and he wanted to end this.

"You're going to regret that. You really need to give it up. You're surrounded and hell, we even know about your little secret passageways. I'm sure you love that."

"You bastards, I will win this. I won't lose. I never have. I'm so glad that you all are here," he started to laugh and he changed the direction he was pointing the gun.

Mr. Lang could barely look ahead of him due to the pain in his foot. He could see that it was bleeding profusely and his vision was hazy. He could feel his heart pounding inside of him as his vision got hazier. He could hear the voices of Jim and Mr. Potter, but they sounded far away. He forced himself to look up and all that he managed to notice was Mr. Potter's gun faced at him. He knew he should care, but he felt so tired. He couldn't move anymore.

Richter pulled his gun up again. He couldn't let them lose their best agent. He was invaluable and they would need him to prove that such a plot had even existed. Without even thinking, he discharged his weapon and hit Mr. Potter again.

"What do you have to say now, Mr. Holden?"

Herbert Riddle rushed up in a panic.

"What is wrong with you? Yes, it was appropriate to shoot but I want him extradited to the US."

"Sorry, but I don't think that's going to be happening. I don't think anyone can take three bullets and live. Plus, he's been bleeding out. The bastards dead, what more do you want?"

"Life in prison!"

"He's going to hell. That's just about the worst prison."

"I hope he rots there, you stupid bastard."

"It's Hell, I'm quite sure that's the deal," he said sarcastically.

Mr. Richter went up to Mr. Potter and he checked for a pulse. Mr. Potter was clinging for dear life. Pain echoed through his entire body and he could barely breathe. The bullet that had grazed his skin had gotten more intense and he was praying for relief. The other bullet had pierced his stomach and he was starting to feel that one as well. He couldn't, however, feel any of his chest. It was all completely numb and he didn't know how he could ever live again.

He saw some flashes of his life. Primarily, he saw the woman who had started him on this path of destruction. She had shot him in the heart. Well, she looked like she was. She missed the heart and the aorta. He was totally okay except for some arterial damage and some respiratory distress. And, pain. Lots and lots of pain.

But, he had been determined to heal, and he did just that. He wanted to destroy this woman. It was the one thing he wanted to do before his death.

Now, it seemed as though his fate had caught up with him. And fate didn't want him to stop her. He knew he was close, because she had walked out on him early that morning.

A/N: Thanks for reading this far along. I'm sure it's gone off in some crazy direction like my writing tends to do. But, I hope it has stayed at least halfway decent. I blame the characters and my way over active imagination. :)