There was a burning sensation in her left arm, and the wind had been knocked out of her from the two hits she'd taken to the vest. She'd fallen in almost slow motion, hitting the ground hard. Deckard grabbed the back of her vest and dragged her through the hole with him after killing the two mercenaries trying to get to them. He pulled her out of sight along the wall in the other room.

"Kate," he said, gripping her chin to look at her. "Kate, you okay?"

She gasped in air finally, feeling horrible pain in her chest on top of her arm pain. She remembered the last time she'd gotten shot in the vest with Alejandro standing over her and looking very angry afterwards. It hadn't tickled then either.

"Oh God," she choked, sitting up.

"Come on," he said, picking her up and setting her on her feet. "We gotta go."

She let him steer her out, his hand holding her right shoulder firmly. After finding it locked, he busted the glass on the door connecting them to the other room and unlocked it, kicking it open. They kept going quickly, not wasting any time. Deckard eventually got them to a quiet place in the kitchen, and he made her hop up on the table so he could examine her arm.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"You had to tidy me up, so I'm returning the favor," he said, pulling off his long sleeve shirt to reveal a white tank top. He tore off a sleeve first before examining her.

"Trauma kit is on top of the fridge," she said, and he went to grab it. Then he washed his hands thoroughly, and she groaned a little and banged the heel of her right boot against the table leg in pain as he disinfected her arm. She could tell he was impressed that she wasn't losing her shit, but she knew screaming about it wasn't going to help anything. He finished cleaning it up and then wrapped it with his torn sleeve. Kate winced and grunted slightly in pain as he tied it tight. Then he washed his hands again.

"No bullet?" she asked.

"No, just a graze," he answered. "You got lucky." Kate moved her shoulder and arm, noticing it hurt like hell but she could still use it to fight. That was helpful.

"Thank you."

"Let me look," he said, gesturing to where she'd taken the other two hits. She nodded, letting him take the vest off and holding up her flashlight on her phone so he could see better amidst the dim emergency light and the fading light from the window. She appreciated that he was gentle at least.

"Starting to feel like John McLane here," Deckard commented as he lifted her shirt to assess the damage, and she gave a scoff of laughter. They were both in white tank tops and trapped in a building after all.

"You think?" Her tone was sarcastic.

"You wanna slide through some ductwork?" he asked, gently pressing a hand against her ribs. While it was nice to feel his hands on her again, they were causing pain this time.

"Ah," she hissed when he found the painful ribs. "Not really."

"Me either." He stopped inflicting pain and let her shirt drop. "Bruised and not broken I'd say, but best to get it looked at after."

"I plan to. Thanks."

"No problem."

"We're not gonna make it to the tunnel," she said as he reloaded his gun. "Not on our own."

"So what's plan B?"

"The roof?"

"How do we get there?"

She looked at the window and then back at him. "Climb?"

"I see." He didn't sound so sure.

"You don't like heights?"

"I don't like being a target for getting shot at," he corrected. He leaned his hands on the table next to her, his head turned to face her. She thought hard.

"I really don't know what else to do," she confessed. He released a sigh, thinking. She decided to bring up her other thought while she was thinking it. "Why us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why this FBI office? How did you find out about the mole?"

"Took a lot of digging. I've been after this organization for a while now, so that means doing a lot of tracking and making connections."

"Do you know who it is? The mole?"

"No," he answered. "It was just a tip, but now I'm wondering if it was a set up to get me here and take me out." He ran a hand over his head while releasing another sigh.

"So you've done recon on all of us," Kate said, getting it. He nodded. She looked down at her fingers, feeling odd suddenly. How much about her did he know?

"I do not condone what Alejandro and Graver did to you," he said, making her snap her head back up to look at him. "Just so you know."

"They'd disagree."

"You want to do what's right. There's nothing wrong with that." He shrugged.

"What else do you know about me?"

"You quit smoking two years ago. You have three siblings, a strained relationship with your parents, and an ex-husband," he replied. She almost laughed. It was what she'd told him in their time together the night before.

"You must know more than that," she reasoned. "You've read up on me."

"I was just trying to make you feel better in thinking that I didn't know everything," he advised. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before hissing in pain and taking it off. She'd almost forgotten about her injury there since the pain in her chest and arm had overidden it. She looked at Deckard again. She knew next to nothing about him, just that he had an abusive, alcoholic father, a mother, and two younger siblings. Well, now she also knew he was former black ops for MI6, had lost a friend, and had been accused of murder he hadn't committed by an organization that sounded like it was run by Satan himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she pressed her lips together in a rueful smile.

"Like you said, you weren't intending on sleeping with me," she reminded him. He chuckled softly, reaching to smooth the backs of his fingers across her cheek before holding her face gently. She couldn't tell what he was thinking as he held her gaze. She wondered why people were brought into each other's lives only to be gone a short time later. What was the point? To make them realize what they were missing and ache for it?

"Kate," he started.

"Well, lookie here," a voice said, and they both jerked to see White Hair standing there with his rifle resting over his shoulder as he stood military style a few feet away from them. "Having a moment, are we?"

Deckard went for his gun, but White Hair aimed his rifle at him quickly.

"Ah! I don't think so," he warned. "We're gonna finish this the old fashioned way."

"Ask your buddy how well that went for him," Deckard retorted. "Oh wait, you can't."

"I think this time a little incentive will change the outcome." White Hair snapped his fingers and two mercenaries came in. Kate slid off the table and got a slap in to the one's face before they grabbed her arms to hold her still. One held a gun to her temple.

"I lose, she dies," White Hair said simply. He tossed his gun down and straightened his shirt. "You in?"

Kate looked at Deckard, conveying she'd be just fine with her eyes, which he seemed to pick up on.

"I'm in," he agreed, holding up his fists.

...

Deckard had no use for assholes, which was what this guy was proving to be. He didn't worry about Kate because he'd seen her in action not that long ago. All the same, he kept an eye on her as he got closer to White Hair, just in case something tricky was going to happen.

He dodged the first blow and came back with an uppercut. The man didn't get his entire head out of the way fast enough. Deckard's knuckles hit the edge of his jaw, and he stumbled. They crashed around fighting and getting blows into each other.

"It's funny," the man said as Deckard pushed himself up from the floor after getting thrown. He was feeling very pissed off by this point. "I never took you for the caring type. Why care about her? She's nothing to you."

Deckard responded by grabbing a discarded book on the floor and whipping it at White Hair's face. It slapped into his cheek, and he gave a yelp. Deckard grabbed his shoulders and threw him over the table next. He looked at Kate, who was still standing there calm, waiting. He jumped over the table and laid a beating on that man almost like never before.

"Do it!" White Hair shouted around Deckard's punches. "Kill her!"

Deckard whipped his head to see Kate jerk her head back as the one aiming the gun at her fired, and he inadvertently killed his own partner. Kate was on him in an instant, knocking the gun out of his hands and engaging into a hand to hand battle, favoring her left arm a bit as she did so. Deckard turned his attention back to his own victim, continuing to bash his face in. A gunshot going off made him look to see Kate shoving the remaining mercenary off of her. He fell to the floor, dead. She looked at him next.

"Here," she said, tossing him the pistol and making him feel déjà vu. He caught it and aimed it at White Hair's head. The man was bleeding all over the place, but he still gave a leering smile.

"You think you won? This is far from over," he warned.

"How do I find them?" Deckard asked. "Eteon?"

"You never will."

"If you want to live, you'll tell me."

"I don't care. I die for the cause," the man spat. "Go ahead. Blow me away. I won't tell you anything."

"Deckard," Kate said, looking towards the hall. "We've got company."

He sighed. He'd so hoped he'd get something out of this guy, but he didn't have the time, and apparently, White Hair was being stubborn about it. He fired and killed him, standing up and grabbing his machine gun while Kate checked her guns.

"Yippee kai..." he started.

"Don't," she ordered, putting a hand over his mouth to stop him. "Don't even." He smiled under her fingers, cupping her hand with his and kissing her palm lightly.

"You're the boss," he replied, letting her go and moving forward. He led the charge, firing left and right. Kate brought up the rear and shot behind them. They found another relatively quiet spot where they both caught their breaths and reloaded.

"How long can we do this?" she asked. "It's almost dark out. Our lights are gonna die out. Eventually, we will run out of ammo in the armory."

Someone burst into the room, and they both aimed their guns at them until the person held up their hands in terror.

"Royce?" Kate asked. Deckard lowered his gun slowly; she did the same.

"What happened?" he inquired.

"We got split up," Royce said, sounding scared. "I don't even know who is alive anymore. I've just been dodging around everyone and keeping my head down, but I can't keep doing this. I want out!"

"Let's find the others and regroup," Kate said. "Okay?"

"Do we have to?"

"Yes."

Royce sighed and tried to appear more annoyed than scared. Deckard clapped him on the shoulder fondly.

"Think of the story you'll be able to tell your grandkids," he said.

"What grandkids?"

Kate smirked as Deckard felt stuck. He really should stop making assumptions that everyone wanted kids.

"Erm, nevermind," he said. "Just go already."

They walked out carefully, moving to where Royce had last seen someone from their team. Kate found Carla, Derrick, and Mason in no time.

"Why are you still in here?" she asked.

"We don't leave anyone behind," Carla answered. Mason and Derrick nodded. "And they wouldn't let me do it alone."

"Did the others get out?"

"Henrietta and Trent did. I have no idea about Greta or Lola, though."

"We're gonna find them, right?" Royce asked, slightly panicked.

"We will. First, you're getting an escort out of here," Carla said to him. "Derrick, you mind?"

"Not at all. Come on, Nerd," Derrick said.

"I'm not a nerd," Royce retorted testily as he walked ahead of Derrick. "And just so you know, that stands for Not Even Remotely Dorky, so there."

"Okay, Professor Frink."

"Shut up!"

When they were gone, Carla turned back to Kate and Deckard.

"You both look like hell," she said.

"Thanks," Kate replied sarcastically.

"You guys are like Mr. and Mrs. McLane," Mason joked. "You're even wearing matching outfits." Deckard snickered while Kate glared. "What? You don't like Die Hard?"

"She's not a fan," Deckard answered for her. She ground her jaw and went closer to Carla to figure things out.

"I've got Derrick going to come up behind them out front," Carla explained. "He'll get Trent to assist. When there is chaos and confusion, we strike back from the other side."

"But there's only two of them," Kate said, confused.

"They can easily make it seem like there's more than just one of them," she advised. "Trust me. I overheard what radio frequency they're using. We'll make them believe a cavalry has them surrounded."

"Smart," Deckard commented, and Carla finally smiled at him.

"Not just a pretty face," she promised with a wink.

"So we make our way back to the front then?" Kate clarified.

"Yes, ma'am," Mason confirmed.

"Lead the way, big man," Carla said, and he grinned before obliging. Deckard covered the back this time, wondering just how well this little operation was actually going to work.

...

Kate strained her eyes in the low glow of the emergency lights. She imagined Reggie would start to worry when she didn't send her usual "Thank God the weekend shift is over" text by nine o'clock. She wondered if he would show up at the office to see what was wrong, and then she felt scared that he actually would and get killed for it.

She bumped into Deckard, having gotten lost in her thoughts to the point she hadn't realized they'd stopped walking. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she gave herself a shake. She had to stay focused. All the pain going through her body in waves was not helping, but the adrenaline was keeping her going for now.

"Okay," Carla whispered. "When they get all riled up, we strike."

"I hope this actually works," Kate said back quietly. She felt Deckard squeeze her shoulder a bit for reassurance. She appreciated his efforts.

"What are you guys doing?"

Kate spun to see Greta standing there with a flashlight shining on them.

"Not so loud!" Carla hissed. "Come on, we're gonna ambush them."

"No," Greta said. "I don't think you are." Faster than lightning, she fired and shot Mason first and then Carla. Deckard jerked Kate out of range just as a bullet whizzed over her head.

"GRETA!" Kate shrieked. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Finishing this!" Greta called back. She fired more shots, and Kate and Deckard tried to get farther out of range to regroup. They made it to a room just down from where Greta was standing. Unfortunately, there were no lights in it, leaving it pitch black.

"Greta, stop it!" Kate shouted. "Don't do this!"

"She's the mole," Deckard said through gritted teeth.

"I cannot believe how hard it is to kill one man," Greta said, reloading loudly as she walked closer to them. "Like, just die already."

"Nah, I'm too stubborn," Deckard said back. "Or maybe just bulletproof. Or maybe...maybe I'm already dead. Can't kill a ghost, you know." Kate rolled her eyes. How could he still be cracking jokes at a time like this?

"Well, I'm ending both of you, so don't be too cocky," Greta said. Kate knew she was standing on the other side of the wall, and she knew Greta, so she grabbed Deckard and yanked him down just as Greta fired shots through the drywall above their heads. Deckard aimed his machine gun and fired back, making Greta yelp.

"Did I get ya?" he asked after.

"Nope," Greta answered, firing back some more. Kate crawled out of range, trying to calm her racing mind. Greta was the mole. Greta was trying to kill her. After all they'd been through together at this office, she was seriously going to kill Kate?! What the bloody hell?!

"I should have known," Deckard said, cocking his gun.

"What?" Kate asked.

"I have never met a redhead that hasn't tried to kill me," he replied. "Why did I think Greta would be different?"

"Because you had hope that your stupid theory was wrong?" Kate countered.

"Well, to be fair, the one woman was wearing a wig," Deckard mused. "And I think the other had dyed hair...but the first two...they were definitely natural redheads."

"Oh dear God, are you seriously joking around right now?"

"Trying to. You're ruining it."

"Wow, you two sound like a married couple already," Greta said now. Kate twisted to move because Greta was now in the room with them. If she had night vision, they were screwed.

"You're gonna tell me how to find Eteon," Deckard said calmly. "And maybe I'll let you live."

"You think you're so cool, Shaw," Greta sneered. "I can see both of you clear as day right now. I was the only one smart enough to be fully prepared for this."

"That's because you knew what to expect," Kate retorted.

"You're right. Lucky me. Watch the table leg, Katie."

"Argh," Kate said, banging her head into it right after. How much more abuse could her body take? She was growing very irritated.

"Katie? That's cute," Deckard said, his tone light. "I like it."

"Deckard! Shut up!" Kate yelled at him.

"I can finish him off right now for you, Katie," Greta offered.

"So shoot to kill already," Deckard taunted.

"I like playing games first."

"Right. You tell me what I want to know, or else I start shooting your limbs," Deckard stated. Greta laughed out loud.

"You're cute. Honestly, Kate, I can see why you banged him all weekend. No, Shaw, that's not how it's going to work."

"I think it is," Deckard advised. Kate was feeling both aggravated at him for being an idiot and scared to die. "Where is Eteon?"

"Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't tell you," Greta replied. "Say goodnight, Shaw."

"You first."

Kate flinched as a gunshot went off, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stop from crying out. Tears pricked at her eyes. Deckard was gone...

"SON OF A BITCH!" Greta screamed, and the sound of a gun hitting the ground came next. Kate dropped her hand and gaped into the darkness. What the hell?!

"Second chance," Deckard said now. "Where do I find Eteon?"

"Go to hell!"

Another shot, another scream. Kate was stunned. How was he doing this?!

"You see," Deckard said, and she heard him walking now. "You weren't the only one who was prepared." Kate couldn't see a thing and had no idea what was happening.

"I guess I didn't give you enough credit," Greta hissed, groaning in pain. She cried out louder, which Kate took to mean that Deckard had applied some pressure to her wounds.

"Where are they?" he asked again.

"I'm not telling."

"Greta, these people are wrong," Deckard advised. "You've been brainwashed into believing their cause is real, but it's not. They're going to hurt hundreds of thousands...millions...of innocent people. Don't let them do that."

"They're right to do it," Greta insisted. "The world needs to rid of its weak."

Kate wanted to throat punch her then. How could she say something like that?!

"Just tell me." Deckard's voice was commanding.

"No. Never."

"Then I guess I have to dispose of the weak right now, don't I?"

"Go ahead," Greta spat.

"Deckard," Kate said. "Don't."

"Stay out of it, Kate."

"Aw, see? She's trying to do the right thing," Greta mocked. "Katie girl always does what's right, don't you? Even though your boyfriend is right to kill me, you won't let him."

"Just let the feds have her," Kate tried. She didn't even know why she was trying to save Greta. She guessed she just didn't want her blood on her hands. Or maybe she was jut in denial about the truth of who her coworker really was.

"She'd be let out within a week," Deckard said. "Or killed in her cell. Eteon has deep roots and connections, Kate."

"You told Katie about Eteon?" Greta tsked. "You just signed her death sentence, Decks."

"Only my friends call me that," Deckard stated firmly. "Last chance: tell me where to find them."

"You will never find them," Greta said between grunts of pain. "You will spend forever looking over your shoulder and wondering when it's all gonna end, and then they'll kill you. Mark my words."

"If you say so," Deckard sighed. Kate cringed as shots went off, and Greta stopped talking. She let out a yelp when a hand touched her a moment later.

"It's me," he promised. She sat up slowly, and he handed her something: Night vision. She strapped it to her head, finally able to see where the hell she was.

Right next to her own bloody desk.

"You good?" Deckard asked.

"Yea," Kate answered. Then she realized something: "Lola!"

"What about her?"

"Carla said Lola had been with Greta. Oh my God, Carla!" Kate exclaimed, getting up and rushing back to where Carla and Mason were. Neither of them were moving. "Mason!" She bent down to check for vitals, and Mason scared the shit out of her when he groaned and stirred.

"Mason!" She reached to drag him out from under Carla while Deckard helped, ignoring the pain in her arm and chest as she did so. Mason coughed and breathed raspy breaths.

"Where is she?" he asked. "Where is that lying bitch? I'm gonna nail her to the wall."

"She's dead," Kate advised. "Mason, how bad is it?" She looked and could see blood coming from his side but not majorly, thankfully. "Where's your armor?"

"It got shot up earlier, so I took it off."

"Thank God you're okay," Kate said, resting a hand on his shoulder. She saw him smile weakly.

"I've had worse," he replied. "Carla?"

"She...she's dead." It broke Kate's heart a little. She actually didn't mind Carla at times; she just had to get to know her better, but now she never would. Mason swore softly, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Then he dropped his hand. "Okay, so now what?"

"No one else seems to be storming the place, so I think maybe we can leave," Kate advised. "And we have to find Lola."

"Erm, Kate," Deckard said.

"What?"

"Think again."

Shouts outside could be heard, and Kate felt despair. Not again.

"Come on," Deckard said hoisting Mason up to his feet. "We gotta go." Kate helped him steady Mason, and the three of them got out of the way just as the front doors burst open.

All I ask is that you don't reveal the name of the mole in your feedback so as to keep the mystery for new readers :) Thank you!