"Three o'clock in the morning at the Red Line? Sure, we can steer clear of the area for the night. Yeah, just let me okay it okay? Right."

Diana rewound the tape, just to make sure she'd heard correctly. The redline huh? Trust Greenly to be the one to spill the beans sitting at his desk. Well she'd most definitely be there, make no mistake about that. Connor or no, she still had a job to do. She just hoped she could still do it.

The Red Line, unsurprisingly, was nearly deserted at three o'clock in the morning. The only people around were the group who she was watching and various homeless people scattered around the pavement.

There appeared to be roughly seven Italian mafia soldiers meeting. From the snippets of conversation that Diana could hear from behind the corner, they were discussing their recent doc in pay due to the unsuccessful health of the mafia in Boston as of late.

"Jesus," she thought to herself, "they even have labor unions in organized crime." She looked at her watch. "They're late…" She had worked it out before going. Because she was alone she'd have to play it safe. She would call the police as soon as the shooting started (would they even come?) and when she was sure it was just the three of them left or the three of them and disarmed mafia soldiers she would reveal herself and make the arrest.

BANG! No time to think anymore. Diana listened closely while the shooting began. From what she could hear, the Italians had scattered, a few of them hiding behind the concrete posts. She heard three go down immediately, and when she had a look she could see that she was off by one. Only two had gone down. The other two that weren't hiding were shooting straight at Connor, Murphy and Da. She'd never seen such shitty shooting. She watched both of them go down, and then Connor and Murphy were around to the other side of the concrete looking for the other three. Four on the ground, three going to die. Diana couldn't stand it any longer.

BAM BAM! One bullet from Diana's .45 in the shoulder of one of the Italians, the other in the knee of number two. With one more quick shot she'd gotten number three in the shoulder of his gun hand, just as she had number one.

"Freeze!" she cried, keeping her gun steady and revealing herself to Connor and Murphy.

"Well holy fuck," said Murphy, holding up his gun hand.

"Drop them," Diana said coldly.

"Diana what are you doing here?" asked Connor, confused and disbelieving.

"I said drop them." Her gun moved from Connor to Murphy and back again. Very slowly, their faces twisted with confusion and betrayal, they dropped their guns and backed up a few paces.

"You too," she turned her aim toward Da, who complied a bit more slowly than the twins, making her extremely nervous.

Not losing her grip or her aim for an instant Diana retrieved her cell phone from her pocket.

"Hello… 6789103…yes….. I need one unit at the red line in six minutes… yes…" she hung up.

"The police won't come here tonight," said Murphy.

"That isn't who I called." Diana sneered, angry with him, angry with Connor, angry with the Italian men, and angry with herself. She was trying not to get emotional, and praying to God that neither of them would say anything.

"We can explain darling" said Da from the back.

"There's nothing to explain," she shot back coldly. And then to Connor, very softly, with tears in her eyes she hissed "You lied to me."

Connor felt as though he should point out that she wasn't exactly a pillar of truth either, but something in her eyes stopped him. Murphy watched her too, and watching her face melt from her cold demeanor and tear from brow to lips in betrayal he felt his heart go out to his brother. He hurt watching her, he could only imagine what Connor felt.

And then the national guard unit was there, gripping the back of Connor's arms and cuffing him while his eyes pleaded with the woman he loved. But it looked to be too late. Her mask was back up and there was nothing he could do to get through to her.

Diana walked for hours that night. She couldn't bear to go home yet. She tried to avoid thinking about Connor but found that she couldn't. She'd walked all of the streets she knew with him, and she wasn't stupid enough to wander off. When she'd finally stopped crying she resolved to go back to the apartment, but started crying again when she realized that she was wearing Connor's coat. She stopped in at the 7-eleven and washed her face, willing herself to stop.

She had stopped by the time she got back round to the apartment building. She started noticing again, all of the things she'd hated in the first place, and was in a right foul mood by the time she reached her door, not that she hadn't been before. She didn't bother to turn on the light, just pushed the door shut behind her and threw the coat on the nearest chair. She walked to the window and started taking down her hair.

"Who are you?" Connor said from the corner behind the door. Diana jumped in surprise and her hand went for her gun, which was lying on the table. Connor got there first.

"I don't think so," said Connor, picking the gun up and pointing it at her. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the couch behind her.

"I'll stand thanks," she said, her hand fingering the knife on her thigh.

"Fine, but answer my fucking question," he said angrily.

"Diana McMurtrie, FBI" she whispered.

"Why are you here?" he took a step towards her "and speak up lass, your gun nearly had me bleeding from the ears."

"Well I'm glad it hurt," Diana took a step back.

"Answer the fucking question."

"Why do you think I'm here Connor. I'm here for you, your brother and your father. You're breaking the law and it is my job to stop you."

"And why the closeness Diana! Why the fucking Christmas dinner! Why the…." Connor bit his lip and lowered the gun, "Why the kiss Diana? Was that part of your job?"

"Yes." And God did the lie hurt. "What makes you the Saint here Connor. You feel betrayed? When were you going to tell people that when you aren't talking to me and walking with me and buying me coffee you're killing people?"

"Diana you don't understand."

"What is the matter with you? I don't understand! You're right. I don't understand. No sane person would. Give me my gun back."

Connor eyed her nervously for a second, and for safety's sake chucked the gun into the kitchen. Diana was off to the corner like a shot, and before Connor had moved more than a step she had him at the point of a cutlass… and a sharp one too if Connor's guts served him.

"Get out," she hissed, backing him to the door. "Get out." Connor backed to the door, and closed it behind him. He started to walk back to his own door, then turned back and leaned toward the door.

"Diana I'm sorry," he said softly.

TWACK! Connor leapt back and was suddenly very glad he hadn't put his ear up to the door for a reply. The door had splintered where the point of the cutlass had pierced the wood on his side of the door. He could hear the length of the sword quiver.