TITLE: Criminal Minds – "Darkest Days" (A sequel to Behind the Mask)

AUTHOR: D M Harper

SUMMARY: Agent Prentiss is forced to face her secretive past when it threatens the safety of her BAU colleagues and her beloved family.

RATING: For Mature Readers.

DISCLAIMER: This story was conjured up for reading entertainment only. No money has exchanged hands or bank accounts. There is no profit gained, just fancy flights of imagination. There is no intention to infringe on the copyright of CBS Television Studios or creator Jeff Davis. This writing does feature consensual sexual interaction between two females, so if you are underage or unable to view due to restrictions in your part of the world, be gone and take my sympathy with you. If you find such material offensive, too bad, so sad, you chose to enter this web site of your own free will; hence you have no one to whine to except yourself or a parent if you are caught, so bugger off!

A/N: Please find them time to review and feed the Muse. Extra long chapter, so if you like; send a little love to the Muse.


Chapter 20

Saturday 20th August, 2011.

Rolling over in bed, Jillian reached out for her ringing business phone. The caller was unknown and she answered with her Israeli accent, "Hello, you have reached Ahuva."

"Well hello Ahuva, Shane McCall here."

"Ahh, Mr McCall, I hope you have good news for me."

"That friend of mine you were interested in will be in contact with you shortly."

"You have my gratitude Mr McCall and next time I am in Boston I will visit with a bottle of your favourite single malt scotch."

"I look forward to it darlin'."

"Goodbye."

After tailing McLaren for the past three weeks and checking out every pub in Dublin without a sign of Doyle, Jillian allowed herself a nanosecond of jubilation by smiling. It had been a long five month operation, but the end was now in sight and the people she loved so dearly would soon be able to put aside their heartache.

Jumping out of bed, Jillian collected her personal iPhone from the table and called Jennifer with the news. She was taken aback when the other phone sounded moments later.

"Hello, this is Ahuva speaking."

"I believe you have been making inquiries about me," answered an Irish brogue.

"Mr Doyle I presume."

"You are correct, but I am not in the habit of discussing business over the phone."

"That is understandable."

"Fly to Dublin and meet me at Bruxelle's Pub at 8 Harry Street on Tuesday night at eight o'clock."

"How will I recognise you?"

"You won't."

Doyle hung up and Jillian immediately called Jennifer back.

-o-

Tuesday 23rd August, 2011.

Jillian was sound asleep when her phone woke her. Stretching out, she grabbed it and looked at Strauss' number, "Hey Erin."

"Hello. I just wanted to speak to you before you meet with Doyle."

"It's four in the morning over here," pointed out Jillian.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry Jill."

"It's okay, you're forgiven."

"I was working late at the office and forgot all about the five hour time difference."

"How is the team?"

"They are relieved to have Jennifer back as a full time profiler."

"Profiler, so she took the necessary training?"

"She did and has been busy working your case as well as others with the team."

"I'm just glad Shawl agreed to allow her to remain my handler and I have the feeling you had something to do with that."

"I may have suggested it to him and the other reason I called is to inform you Shawl is eager to snap you up on a more permanent basis."

"That's good to know, but I'll review my options once Doyle is behind bars."

"Understood and I know you are reluctant to return here, but you will always be welcomed with open arms."

"Thank you Erin, that means a lot to me."

"Has there been any movement at the warehouse?"

"Yes, O'Shaunacy and McBride have booked into a local hotel. They checked on the crates yesterday and stayed around until ten o'clock last night. Jackson and Leroy are ready to move when they transport the weapons."

"Excellent and I want you to take every precaution with Doyle."

"I will, but I think tonight will just be a meet and greet. He's sure to run my prints and DNA, so my guess is he'll stay low for about a week until the results come through."

"I'm sure you are right."

"I've been inside Doyle's mind for five months Erin and it's what I expect him to do."

"Nevertheless, be safe my friend."

"I will and we'll talk soon. Bye."

-o-

Jillian approached the bar counter wearing three inch black heels, sheer black nylons, a figure hugging black "A" line sleeveless dress and flawless makeup. Her recently dyed jet black hair was straight and falling seven inches past her shoulders.

The bartender smiled idiotically at her and asked, "What will ya be havin' darlin'?"

"I'll take a shot of Tullamore Dew Single Malt on the rocks."

"Good choice, nice smooth 12 year old blend and it's comin' right up."

Turning, Jillian surveyed the crowded building and wasn't surprised when she didn't see Doyle.

The barkeep placed a glass on the counter, "There ya go love."

"How much do I owe you?"

Pointing to his left, he replied, "The handsome gent over there took care of it for ya."

Picking up the drink, Jillian nodded to Doyle and sashayed her way over to the corner table, "Thank you for the drink Mr Doyle."

Standing, Doyle pulled out a chair, "Please call me Ian and Shane wasn't exaggerating when he described you as breathtakingly beautiful."

"Thank you for the compliment and I have my mother to thank for wonderful genes," replied Jillian while smiling at the freshly shaven man with glistening blue eyes. She took a seat and crossed her long legs at the knees.

"Ahh yes, she was English and your father Israeli?" questioned Doyle while glancing at the shapely limbs on display and taking his seat.

"You have done your homework."

"In my line of business it is necessary."

"And here I sit with little knowledge of you."

"Speaking of which, Shane told me it was Peter O'Shea who gave you my name."

"That is correct. I require weapons to run my private security business and had dealt with Peter on two previous occasions. He had invited me for a romantic weekend in St Petersburg while obtaining my last order for one hundred Tech 9 handguns."

"So you and Peter were lovers?"

"We were and it broke my heart when he was slain in the street."

"I've been away for some time and only heard of his death recently."

"Peter once told me to look you up if I needed a larger order filled."

A greying brow rose and Doyle grinned, "Did he now?"

"Yes and he also said you and he went to school together, but had drifted apart when you moved away from Dublin."

"That is unfortunately true. He was a good friend and I will miss him."

"He also mentioned he kept an eye on you through Mr McCall."

"Tell me; was Peter still into collecting tattoos when you meet?"

"Oh no, he detested the two he already had on his shoulders blades and had no plans for any more."

Doyle's eyebrows crept upwards again, "The shamrock and skull."

"No, the Irish flag and leprechaun," replied Jillian with a scowl.

Letting out a chuckle, Doyle said, "It appears you are onto my game."

"If it is proof of my relationship with Peter you require, then I have something that will hopefully convince you." Jillian opened her small handbag and withdrew a purse. Opening, it she pulled out several photos and leaned over the table to show them to Doyle. "See, this is me and Peter outside the café. It was taken by the waiter ten minutes before he was killed." She shuffled to the next picture, "That one is Peter in the shower at our hotel and the last one is us on the bed cuddling."

"I see and I apologise if I offended you Ahuva, but I must be cautious of people's authenticity."

"I understand. Peter did not require as much persuasion."

"I'm sure he didn't."

"If you are not happy to do business then I will trouble you no further."

"You are far from troubling me and what quantity are you seeking?"

"My business is expanding into Iraq and Afghanistan, so I require two hundred Tech 9s, ten Sniper rifles, forty claymores plus detonators, fifty RPGs and 200 Ak-47s."

"Holy Christ, that's some shopping list."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all, but I'll need a week to get everything together."

"I am staying at the Dunboyne Castle Hotel and will await your call."

"Whoa, not so fast, we haven't discussed price yet."

"I will save you the hard sell speech about the GFC affecting business and inform you I have four million Euros in gold bullion with your name on it."

Noting the expression of glee wash over Doyle's face, Jillian stood and headed for the exit. She turned around while opening the door and witnessed Doyle pick up her empty glass with a hand napkin. Walking outside, she went to her car, got in and drove away.

-o-

By the time Jillian entered her hotel suite, she was nauseous and shaking badly. She ran to the bathroom and stripped off. Stepping into the shower recess, she turned on the water and sunk to her knees. Pitiful howls of sorrow escaped from her as images of Emily and Doyle together invaded her mind. When she thought about them engaged in sexual intercourse, her stomach cramped and she vomited violently until only bile was being brought up.

Rocking back and forth, Jillian allowed all her pent up anger and heartbreak to take control before washing her hair and body then dressing in sports clothes. She raced to the hotel gym and pounded on a boxing bag for two hours before lifting weights.

Near exhaustion, she returned to her room and wrote her report. Erin called ten minutes later and Jillian apologised, "I'm too tied to talk, I'll call you in back in the morning."

"Okay, I just needed to know you were all right. Seeing Doyle must have been incredibly hard for you."

"It broke my fucking heart all over again."

"Oh honey, I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault Erin, I asked for this assignment."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes, I need to vent and thank you."

"Well you're stuck with me because Jennifer is out in the field with the team in Dallas."

Jillian giggled at the explanation then burst into tears. The two friends spoke for over an hour before the younger woman yawned and went to sleep fully clothed.

-o-

Monday 29th August, 2011.

Jillian had just completed a circuit on the weights equipment when her business phone rang with Doyle's number. "Hello Ian," she answered huskily.

"Hello Ahuva. I was hoping to entice you for a drive to Kilbride to conduct our transaction."

"I'd enjoy that."

"I'll drop by your hotel in an hour."

"We will have to take my van; it has your payment in the back."

"Lovely and I'll toss in my transport truck into the deal."

"How nice of you, meet me in the lobby, bye."

Picking up her towel, Jillian sprinted to the lifts then called Jackson before notifying Shawl and Erin of the development. Taking a shower, Jillian dressed in combat boots, skin tight black trousers and a black tank top. She grabbed her gun, holster and cuff pouch then attached them to the back on her belt before pulling on a mid-length black leather jacket. Collecting a hair tie from the bathroom counter, she put her hair up into a high sitting ponytail then slipped her phone into the compartment secreted in the inside of her left boot and a sheathed knife into her right.

Satisfied she was prepared to take Doyle into custody, Jillian picked up her other phone from the charger and vehicle keys. Making her way downstairs, she casually strolled into the lobby and smiled when her subject stepped past the entrance moments later.

"You're looking stunning," he remarked before kissing her lips swiftly.

"Thank you Ian and your Irish charisma is very alluring."

"I was hoping you would care to dine with me this evening once our business is concluded. It's been some time since I've been in the company of such a striking woman."

"You flatter me and I'd like the opportunity to dress up for you tonight. We could dine right here in the hotel and then maybe you could join me for a nightcap in my suite."

With a smirk and lust in his eyes, Doyle nodded, "I accept your kind invitation."

"I am pleased. The combination of money and guns has a certain effect on me."

"Oh really now, that is most interesting and there is no denying you have a way about you that is hard to resist."

"Shall we make our way to the front and have the van brought up to us?"

"Yes."

Inside Jillian was screaming and when Doyle placed a hand on her arm, she barely held it together. Had it not been necessary to lure the monster to the weapons, she would have arrested him there and then, but Shawl had insisted the apprehension occur in the warehouse with the crates. He wanted enough evidence to cement a conviction against the O'Connors, McCall, O'Shaunacy and McBride.

Once the five tonne vehicle appeared, Jillian turned to Doyle, "Would you like to drive?"

"Sure thing, it will save me having to give you directions."

"I can enjoy your country's magnificent views instead."

"If you stay for a couple of days, I'd be more than happy to show you around."

Jillian giggled while settling onto the passenger seat.

"What has tickled your funny bone?" asked Doyle.

"I came all this way to buy guns and here I am being charmed by a devilishly handsome rogue."

"It must be the luck of the Irish."

"It must."

-o-

Jillian feigned interest in the panoramic surrounds of the city and countryside while Doyle made small talk and one mile from their destination, he pulled over to the side of the road.

"Is something the matter?" inquired Jillian with mock alarm.

"No, I just wanted to check on the gold."

Jillian observed her target as he climbed over the centre console and pulled back the tarpaulin covering the pallet of gold bars. He withdrew a knife from the inside of his jacket and scrapped the blade over several blocks.

He returned to his seat and smiled, "Excuse me for doubting you love, but the last brown eyed brunette I trusted broke my heart and cost me seven years of my life."

Jillian's chest tightened with excruciating pain, but she ignored it and overtly turned on the recording device on her phone. "I'm not a heartbreaker Ian, nor am I a fool."

"I believe you and I think you and I can have a very profitable relationship. Do you like children Ahuva?"

"I do, why?"

"I have a thirteen year old son who I haven't seen in almost eight years. After this deal I'll be able to bring him home with me."

"That is a sad story."

"Until five months ago I thought he had been killed many years ago."

"Did his mother tell you that?"

"No, his mother Chloe Donaghy never wanted him and I raised him alone with a housekeeper. I fell in love with a woman by the name of Lauren and she stole my boy away from me. She later convinced me and others that she had shot him."

"Why would she do such a thing?"

"She was a CIA Operative working with Interpol and she deceived me. When I escaped from my hell hole in North Korea, I tracked her down along with all of her colleagues. I had them killed or killed them myself. Lauren, or should I say Emily, was the last one and I took great pleasure in killing the bitch with my own two hands. I made her suffer, but I have to admit she was tougher than I gave her credit for. I regret not being able to break her before she died."

"Why is that?"

"She didn't tell me where my darling boy is."

"How will you find him?"

"I'll return to American and track down every child registered in school with my son's first name and same year of birth."

"I guess that would work. Do you have friends in the USA to help you?"

"I have McCall as you know and there is Brian O'Sullivan in Boston. Both helped me get into the country for my last visit."

"Oh, I thought Shane had retired. This is what he told me."

With a short chuckle, Doyle quipped, "Don't be fooled love; he says that every year, but he still works for me."

"I don't much care for America and dislike having to travel there for business."

Doyle drove into the open doors of the depository and parked beside a cargo truck. "Here we are," he noted as O'Shaunacy and McBride exited an office area off to the left.

Keeping up the appearance of disinterest, Jillian asked, "Friends of yours?"

"I wouldn't call them that, but they can lift heavy weights when needed."

"I see," replied Jillian as she jumped out of the van and went to the rear of the truck.

"Open it up lads," instructed Doyle as he tossed McBride the van keys.

The two burly men silently opened the lorry doors and Doyle helped Jillian into the compartment. She grabbed the crowbar that was sitting on the crate closest to her and prised the wooden top off. Reaching in, she withdrew an AK-47 and closely inspected it. She stripped it down then reassembled the pieces with ease.

"You'll find it's all top quality merchandise straight from the manufacturing plant and no middle man," explained Doyle. "Do you have an arrangement for leaving the country?"

"I have a ship waiting for delivery. I just have to phone the captain to tell him I am on the way. I will drive the truck to the dock myself."

"Paddy, you and Billy drive the van to my place and offload the gold while I take a short drive with Ahuva."

"Sure Doyle, you're the boss."

When O'Shaunacy and McBride drove off moments later, Jillian knew Leroy and Jackson would shadow them back to Doyle's hidden home. She also knew there was supposed to be four other Federal Agents bursting into the warehouse once the van left.

Left on her own with Doyle; Jillian closed the crate and hopped down out of the truck, "It was nice of you to offer to come with me."

"I enjoy your company darlin' and thought we could travel back to your hotel together."

"That makes sense, but I need to make that call to confirm my movements with the Captain. He will prepare his men while waiting for us to arrive."

"Make your call and I'll drive the truck out so the warehouse doors can be secured.

"Fuck," thought Jillian as her voice said, "Okay Ian." She turned off the recording and moved towards the exit. Withdrawing her phone, she pressed in a number and spoke before Shawl could answer, "Yes Captain Jones, we are leaving now."

"Jill, the other Agents have been involved in a pile up. You are on your own until they arrive in about ten."

"Yes Captain we'll be there in about thirty minutes." Switching on the recording application again, Jillian pocketed the phone then watched as Doyle reversed the truck.

He jumped out after parking twenty feet from the building and when he walked around the front of the vehicle and proceeded to drag the doors together, Jillian reached around behind her back and grabbed her pistol.

Aiming it at Doyle's back, she declared, "Ian Doyle, turn around with your hands in the air. I have an International warrant for your arrest for numerous counts of murder and arms dealing."

"Jesus Christ," responded Doyle as he rotated with a suppressed .45 semiautomatic pistol in his right hand.

Jillian discharged her weapon without delay and the impact of the bullet hitting Doyle in the right shoulder forced him to release the hold on the gun. It fell to the ground and Jillian calmly stated, "Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, get your fucking hands up."

Doyle lifted his arms and grimaced when the wounded one rose about shoulder height.

"Kick your gun towards me and place your hands behind your head then interlock your fingers."

Complying, Doyle commented, "I must congratulate you whoever you are. Do you mind if I ask what Agency you are with? I gather by your American accent you're not from Israel."

"Good guess and I'm with the State Department."

With a sinister glare, Doyle remarked, "Well congratulations, you've shown up those idiots from Interpol."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out your plan. You are a very predictable creature and all I had to do was think like you."

"I'd applaud, but then you'd probably shoot me again."

"Wise decision, now take the knife out from inside your jacket with your left hand and toss it to the side."

Once more, Doyle did as instructed then returned his hand to the back of his head, "So what's the plan here darlin'?"

"We wait here for backup."

"I see, then what?"

"You'll be shackled and taken to the airport."

"I suppose we'll be going on a nice little flight back to D.C. then."

"You'd be right."

Smiling shamelessly, Doyle suggested, "I'll make you an offer. We drive this truck back to my place, split the four million and resell the weapons. You'll end up rich and I'll still have my freedom."

"Do I look that stupid to you?"

"Can't say as you do, so that's a no then?"

"You got that right. It's time you paid for all the lives you have taken and for all the misery you have managed to leave in your wake."

"You sound more like a victim than a Fed. Did I cause you pain darlin'?"

"This isn't about me, so shut up."

"I detect the slightest of hitches in your voice, so I'm assuming I killed someone you loved."

"Shut up."

"I've killed or ordered so many people killed over the years that I've lost track. Would you care to give me a clue?"

"Your taunting doesn't bother me Doyle, so continue."

"I will love seems it may be some time before I talk to a woman as beautiful as you again."

Jillian relaxed her stance marginally and remained silent.

"Are your arms starting to tire?" inquired Doyle whimsically.

"No, but my head is starting to ache from having to listen to your bullshit."

"May I suggest you tie me up so you can lower your gun?"

"I don't think I will get that close to you, but thanks for the offer. I am not that imprudent to give you the opportunity to be near me."

"I can see that Agent and to be honest, I would have head butted you if given the chance."

Jillian noticed Doyle's eyes move slightly to his left, "If you look to your knife one more time, I'll shoot you right where you stand."

"Your first shot was an excellent aim, just in the right place to weaken my arm and not kill me."

"Do you bore your victims to death?"

Doyle chuckled at the comment, "No but thanks for the excellent idea. I'm just passing the time until your colleagues turn up. Are they off chasing Paddy and Billy?"

"No, you're goons have already been taken care of."

"Smart move."

After three minutes of silence Doyle asked, "Do you mind if I sit down? I'm starting to feel a little dizzy."

"Keep your hands up, walk this way and sit up against the front tyre of the truck."

Jillian backed up and Doyle followed her instructions and ended up sitting cross legged.

"How long were you on my trail?" he enquired moments later.

"Five months."

"It was an intelligent move to work alone. I find it alleviates the mistakes if others are not involved. It's very hard to find loyal help these days."

"It must be when you're on Interpol's top ten wanted list."

"Oh, I'm not number one?" questioned Doyle with a grin.

"Try the bottom position."

"I bet it's a different story with the CIA and FBI."

"I won't take that wager."

"You know, you do remind me of my last kill."

Inner rage swirled around in Jillian's mind and she seethed, "Shut up."

"She was so attractive, really beautiful. When we first met her hair was this mousy brown, but the last time I was her, it was her natural black and so shiny."

"Why the hell would you bother telling me all this? I know all about Lauren Reynolds and Agent Prentiss, so save the dramatics."

Doyle ignored the suggestion, "She was excellent at infiltrating my inner sanctum in Tuscany, but you were much faster in winning me over."

"You have a well-known weakness for dark haired women with brown eyes and I just exploited that little facet of your personality. I also know your son Declan is safe from your evil touch."

"What do you know of my boy?" demanded Doyle furiously.

"I know everything and he deserved better than you for a father. Agent Prentiss saved him from becoming like you and that was a noble accomplishment."

Anger rose in Doyle and he started to move his hands downwards.

"Put them back up monster," ordered Jillian.

He did then snarled, "You know nothing of the evil deed done by Emily fucking Prentiss. She faked his death and I suffered for seven years."

"She did that so the North Koreans wouldn't use him to get to you, you selfish, egotistical prick."

"They taunted me every day with pictures of his death and they laughed when I mourned his passing. Prentiss made me think he'd been shot and that was unforgivable. She took the only thing that mattered to me so I took her most valued possession, her life."

"Her life wasn't her most valued possession you moron."

Doyle dismissed the statement, "She's dead, so what does it matter."

"It matters to everyone she loved and who loved her."

Brows arched and Doyle noted, "It sounds like you personally knew her."

"Shut up."

Another five minutes of quiet followed before Doyle asked, "Will you tell me the name of the Agent who finally captured the Great Valhalla?"

"No, so zip it."

Doyle tilted his head to the side and waggled his eyebrows, "I'll find out sooner or later."

"Then later it is." Jillian's business phone rang and she reached for it, "Don't move." Putting it to her left ear, she answered, "Hello."

"Agent Rolston, Agent Paxton here, sorry for the delay, we are three minutes out."

"We're not going anywhere." Ending the call, she pocketed the phone and gloated, "You have three minutes of fresh air left."

"Such is life. It's been fun Agent, but here's the thing, I need to stand up."

"Stretch out your legs."

"I guess that will work too and you can't blame a lad for trying to escape one last time."

"Get up."

"But I thought you wanted me to sit?"

"You're way too cocky for someone facing the rest of his life behind bars or the death penalty."

Doyle smiled and straightened out his legs. He got to his feet and Jillian watched for the smallest of hand movements. There were none and she gave another direction, "Lower your arms and take off your jacket."

He did then Jillian instructed, "Toss it over to the front of the truck then roll up your shirt sleeves."

Doyle smirked as he threw the brown leather jacket to his right, "Don't shoot. I have a flick knife taped to the inside of my left forearm."

"Remove it real slow then throw it away."

When the weapon sailed through the air, a black Lexus sedan entered the property and pulled up six hundred yards behind the truck. Two men wearing dark suits and sunglasses alighted from the vehicle with their guns drawn and as the Agents neared, the taller one, Paxton announced, "Sorry it took so long Agent Rolston, but the other car was totalled and the Agents injured."

Jillian refrained from rolling her eyes at the use of her real name; the damage had already been done, "We will worry about that later Agent. In the meantime we have a fugitive to secure."

"Yes ma'am."

Doyle looked at Jillian with confusion, "Agent Rolston as in the FBI BAU Agent?"

"Small world, isn't it?"

"That explains why you got a little emotional over the mention of the late Agent Prentiss."

Discharging the jibe, Jillian issued another order to Paxton, "Agent, keep cover while your offsider searches for weapons. The bastard has already removed a gun and two knives."

The younger Agent nodded, "It's Agent Clifton ma'am."

Stunned by the other Agent's inability not to state his name, Jillian snapped, "Whatever." Glancing at Paxton, she added, "Make sure you keep an eye on him. I don't want anything overlooked." Jillian noticed Clifton's hands were shaking and changed her mind, "Step aside, I'll do it."

"Yes ma'am."

Lowering her gun, Jillian holstered it, turned off the recording device and looked directly at the Agents, "Put your weapon on him and if he moves, shoot." She stood to the side of Doyle and grabbed the handcuffs from the pouch on her belt. She applied the restraints then positioned herself behind the prisoner and felt along the collar of his shirt. She then proceeded down his back with splayed hands.

"You have a delicate touch Agent Rolston," pointed out Doyle with a seductive lint.

Ignoring the comment, Jillian continued her pat search.

"Emily had such gentle hands."

Reaching down the left sleeve, Jillian then felt around to the front of Doyle's shirt.

The amoral murderer closed his eyelids and moaned, "Her mouth was sheer magic on my cock."

Jillian saw red and lost all self-control. She pushed Doyle forward and face first into the dirt, "Shut your filthy fucking mouth and don't move. Agents, don't blink."

"Yes ma'am," they responded in accord.

Jillian searched the back of Doyle's jeans then the legs and boots. "Roll over and get up onto your knees."

"That was Emily's favourite position," quipped Doyle as he rose up.

With a head full of white blinding hatred, Jillian was slow to react when Doyle lunged sideways and stabbed her in the left quadriceps with a small blade. He dragged it downwards before the senior Agent kneed him in the head with all her strength. He dropped onto his knees as she stumbled backwards into the truck, and once she regained her footing, she pulled out her gun and trained it on the grinning Irishman.

"Just a little reminder of our short time together Agent Rolston," he stated calmly.

"What part of shoot him if he moves, didn't you two understand?" demanded Jillian angrily.

"Sorry ma'am, it's my first assignment in the field," apologised a trembling Paxton.

"Take your fucking partner with you and fetch the leg irons from the trunk of your car. You did remember to bring them, right?"

"Yes ma'am." Paxton looked down at the knife handle still sticking out of Jillian's thigh before leaving.

Once the two Agents' backs were turned and they started heading for the Lexus, Jillian moved to the front of Doyle and pulled out the blade. Tossing it at him, it bounced off his chest and landed on the soil.

"It's my turn to share now bastard," she seethed through gritted teeth as pain raced up and down her leg. "Emily sacrificed herself so you wouldn't come after the rest of the BAU.

"That was righteous of her; I always did appreciate her loyalty to others."

"You didn't finish the job Doyle, now pick up the knife."

"What are you talking about?"

Jillian pointed her Glock at the weapon lying in the soil, "Pick up the fucking knife."

Confusion etched itself upon Doyle's features, "You want me to stab you again?"

"Yes, so stand up."

Doyle grabbed the blade and got to his feet, "You're no match for me, just like Emily wasn't."

"Wrong asshole, Emily survived her injuries and has been in hiding all this time. She beat you scumbag."

A look of horror washed over Doyle and he stumbled, "What?"

"Only a few people know she is alive and now you do too. By the way, Emily's most valued possessions are her two amazing children, her wife and her team mates."

"Children, wife?" queried a stunned and somewhat bamboozled Doyle.

"Oops, looks like you're not as intelligent as you thought and guess what?"

Rage ghosted across Doyle's face and he sneered, "What?"

"I'm her wife and this is for everyone you ever hurt," Jillian moved her index finger inside the trigger housing and yelled, "STOP DOYLE, DROP THE KNIFE OR I'LL SHOOT!" She discharged her weapon as a bewildered Doyle lunged forward without uttering another word.

Paxton and Clifton ran to her side and Paxton stated, "I saw him come at you with the knife again."

"Call for an ambulance and secure the scene," ordered Jillian calmly.

"He doesn't need one," pointed out Clifton deadpan. "You got the fucker right between the eyes."

Taking off her jacket, Jillian ripped off her tank top and wrapped in around her leg and secured it with a knot, "It's for me dufus."

"Oh yeah, sorry, I'm a little distracted."

"My phone is in my left boot, can you grab it for me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Ambulance is on the way," announced Paxton. "And the local authorities have been notified."

"Good work on that communication exercise Paxton and here's a hint; when dealing with International criminals and an undercover Agent, don't use theirs or your real name. Now excuse me while I barf."

-o-

Once Jillian's wound was sutured, she called Shawl with an update then spoke with Erin at length. After convincing her friend she was fine, she had Paxton drive her to the hotel. Covering her injury with a waterproof bandage, Jillian took a very long shower then crawled into bed after taking two painkillers.

She slept right through until the next morning and once she was dressed; typed up her report and e-mailed it to Shawl and Erin. Ordering breakfast, Jillian hobbled around the suite packing her belongings while she waited for the food to arrive.

After consuming the meal, Jillian flew back to Washington D.C. with the other four Agents in a government jet. The group immediately reported to Shawl once they landed and at the conclusion of the extensive debrief; Jillian was officially offered a job. She asked the Director if it would be possible to think about it before catching a cab to her hairdresser's and having her hair and eyebrows returned to their natural colour.

-o-

Jillian raced home to pack fresh clothes then boarded a plane for Titusville. She smothered her children with hugs and kisses then cried for seven days straight before calling Jennifer.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to return my calls," taunted the younger woman.

"I'm sorry, but I had some thinking to do and needed to be around my family to ground myself."

"That's understandable and you did an outstanding job Jill."

"I'm just glad it's finally over."

"I am too and Emily is living in Dikaio, Greece. I'll text you the exact address."

"Thank you for allowing me this time alone with her before she can return home."

"You two have a lot to discuss and I wish you the best of luck."

"I don't have that much to talk about."

"Jill, I beg you to listen to her before you make a final decision."

"There's really nothing she could say that could persuade me to change my mind. I just feel it's my responsibility to tell her face to face."

"Oh sweetie I'm so sorry you feel that way. I'll talk to you when you arrive back."

"I'll let you know when, bye Jennifer."

-o-