A/N:Hi there!... I know... I know... I said that this was the last chapter... but this thing seems to have a mind of its own. So here's revenge... Eliot Spencer style. All loose ends will be tied up in the next and... the 'real' last chapter...

Thank y'all so much for so many and such awesome reviews for the last coupla chapters. Keep up the great work guys and don't forget to review this chapter also.. :)

Chapter 8

The man that was standing before Mikhail Ivanevich was Eliot Spencer... but somehow, he was not. The Spencer that Misha had known so many years ago was a hot headed fighter that never associated himself with anything or anyone because it gave him the edge in every fight, not having anything to lose.

But this guy... This man standing in front of him wasn't that Eliot Spencer anymore. This was a man with so much to lose... so much already lost that it had almost pushed him over the edge. Almost.

The sheer absence of any emotion in those eyes other than a cold, calculated all-consuming rage would've been quite scary to see in anyone's eyes but here, in Eliot Spencer's eyes, it was all too apparent and all too close to being out of control to make it seem even a little bit less scary.

Misha had spent his life in various Baltic countries, always being the big guy, the bully and getting things done his way by force. There was no opportunity for you to cooperate with him... he never gave you one. His first warning itself was broken bones. He was the kind that shot first and didn't even ask the questions later. Human life had always been considered expendable in his world.

He had become one of the most vicious hitmen in his line of work and had become notorious for his lack of control at using whatever methods he could to get what he wanted. He'd seen many others of his kind, none of them too worried about what they were doing to other people's lives, enjoying the control it gave them, the fear they were able to generate. But he'd never seen anything like this standing before him till now. This man... if he could be called that now, had sheer bloodlust in his eyes. Nothing else.

Misha had done his background work on Spencer before taking on this job. His research had shown him that the loner had finally started working with a team surprise, surprise!... and also, he was involved with one of them, a blonde girl that was supposed to be their thief. He'd heard about her... Parker or some other weird name. She was supposed to be good... very good. In fact she was supposed to be as good at her job as he knew Spencer was at his.

He hadn't been unduly worried at catching them all together... the man who'd approached him had everything already laid down cleanly. All Misha had to do was catch the little bird and wait for Spencer to come in her rescue. The guy who contracted him for this job has told him that he could kill both of them before going for the other three, who were... let us say less inclined to put up a fight. All he wanted was the whole team wiped out.

Mikhail Ivanevich had been prepared for an angry and out of control Eliot Spencer... but what he was facing now was almost chilling in its lack of emotion. Both he and Ivan had their guns out in the blink of an eye, giving them the position of control... or so he thought. Ivan had grown cocky with the prospect of being the one that brought down Eliot Spencer and stepped in too close to Spencer. Just mere seconds later, Ivan was dead... lying in a broken heap at Spencer's feet. Had Misha not been on the other side of the gun, he'd have been looking at the hitter in front of him in awe.

All Ivan had done was step in close and a second later, Eliot had caught his wrist, broken it, broken his arm and made him drop the gun, kicked once at his right leg, broken that and finally, to deliver the killing blow, he'd taken the other hitter's neck in his hands and twisted hard till they both heard the loud pop of the vertebral column snapping. All this had been done without even looking at Ivan. It was instinctual response. Eliot Spencer had become a killing machine.

Misha knew that he had to press every bit of advantage he had if he had to get out of this without any damage. He had a team of his guys waiting to back him up when needed. So he unobtrusively signaled them on his comm system and raising his gun calmly, shot at the man that had previously been known as Eliot Spencer. He didn't take a head shot because he didn't want Spencer dead so quickly. He wasn't going to let Spencer get away so easy. The loss of the Blue Monkey had cost Misha dearly and he was going to make sure that Spencer paid for all his mistakes... in full amount.

The bullet left the gun and plunged itself into the flesh of Eliot's right shoulder. But the hitter didn't even flinch. Nothing in his expression or stance told the Russian that a bullet had even hit him. Misha knew that he had a whole bunch of trained fighters coming to him in less than a minute but for the first time in his life, Misha feared that they might be too late. He feared that he'd already be dead when they got there. Spencer was advancing on him as if he hadn't just shot a 9mm into his shoulder.

Trying to tamp down the panic that threatened to make itself known, Ivanevich pulled the trigger once again, another bullet, this time lodged itself in Spencer's thigh. Other than a slight stumble, again, the hitter didn't show any reaction. He just kept coming at the Russian. Misha almost sighed in relief when he heard a bunch of footsteps running in their direction. The other guys came but after that it was quite a blur.

It was almost like Spencer was untouchable or something. There was a cyclone of human flesh swirling around Eliot Spencer and he was at the eye of the storm, giving full freedom to the beast inside. Misha could almost see the outlines of the larger than life beast, baying for blood... in Spencer's shadow.

The feeling of panic that had threatened to make itself known before came back in full force and this time, it was here to stay. Misha was scared for his safety for the first time because, in under a minute, Eliot Spencer had single handedly taken down 15 of his men, not even bothering to react to all the injuries they'd managed to give him before he incapacitated them.

Now that all the henchmen were down, Eliot turned his attention to his goal - Mikhail Ivanevich. No matter what happened tonight, he would die. Ivanevich could take a head shot at Eliot tonight and he would still walk up to the Russian and kill him. Such was the force of his rage. No one... absolutely no one touched his family and got away with it. He was going to make an example of the Russian tonight. To tell everyone that this... was what happened when you dared to touch what was Eliot Spencer's.

As he advanced on the Russian who was all alone now, he could see the fear grow in the man's eyes. The beast inside Eliot was rejoicing at the sight, the opportunity to spread a little more mayhem before it could be put away. Baring his teeth in a twisted and gruesome representation of a grin, the hitter continued advancing on the man who was fast becoming undone, now that his hired muscle was all gone.

As soon as Eliot was within reach of the mobster, he effortlessly plucked the gun out of the man's hand and turning it upon him, fired every bullet in the magazine at the wall behind him. When Eliot was done, there were 9 bullet holes in the wall, almost creating an outline of Ivanevich's body in it. And the Russian was understandably nervous, because almost all the bullet holes were in the wall barely an inch away from his body. The plaster flying off the wall had peppered his suit and Mikhail was now covered in a fine layer of white dust.

Eliot put his right hand up, unmindful of the pain in his shoulder and caught hold of the Russian's throat. Squeezing without any mercy, he pushed the flailing man up onto the wall, the anger giving him the inhuman strength to lift a man that was taller, heavier than him with one hand, even with a bullet lodged in that shoulder. The choking noises coming from Ivanevich weren't affecting the hitter a single bit and he continued to push him up the wall, his hand at the man's throat till the Russian's feet were dangling a couple of inches off the floor.

Had Eliot been in his normal state, he might not have been able to do it at all but the beast inside was urging him on, the blankness descending on his mind not worrying about possibilities and the laws of physics that prevented him from being able to achieve something like this under normal conditions. The beast reveled in the feeling of having Ivanevich claw at his hands, struggling for air... but it was not enough. Letting him go with a grunt, Eliot let the man fall to the ground, clutching at his neck and coughing.

He didn't give the hitman a moment's reprieve before blows that could knock out steel walls were raining on his body unrelentingly. Eliot was a force of nature that couldn't be stopped by now. His body was almost acting separately from his mind, his mind just a calm, removed spectator to the destruction his body was now responsible for. His mind would deal with the aftermath of this later... but right now, his body was in control and it was going to beat this lowlife excuse of a human to pulp. If there was anything beyond death, Mikhail Ivanevich was going to feel it today.

By the time Eliot was done some time later, all that was left of the formerly six foot one Russian mobster that made even seasoned hitters quail in fear, was a bloody heap of quivering muscles. The hitman would've been unable to do anything other than move his little finger even if he wanted to because that was probably the only part of his body that Spencer hadn't broken.

Mikhail Ivanevich was now in a world of pain... beyond rational thought, beyond any capability of action... but he wasn't dead. Eliot had left just enough of him so that he could feel every bit of pain from every injury he'd received. Ivanevich could've been begging for Eliot to kill him if he could get the strength to open his mouth and speak but he couldn't.

Now that Eliot had finished with Ivanevich, the anger bled out slowly... still not leaving him, he thought it might never leave him. As the anger left, his clarity and focus returned and with that returned feeling.

Eliot could finally feel even broken bone, every bullet lodged in his body, every torn muscle, every cut, every laceration. But the pain that overshadowed them all came from his broken heart. Just the sight of Parker's bloodied, broken body to his right was enough to make the hitter want to tear himself to pieces.

He'd failed. He'd failed to protect the one thing that could've saved him from himself... He'd not made it in time, he hadn't been able to keep his promise and now she was gone. His little thief was gone and he hadn't even told her how much she meant to him... How sometimes she was the only reason he came out of his self imposed mental prison. He'd never told her he loved her... and now, he'd never get a chance to.

Slowly, painfully, Eliot pulled his broken body to Parker's. Pulling her head into his lap, he softly brushed her fair hair off her face, slowly leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"I love you Parker... P-Please don't leave me."

He whispered and for the first time in his life, tears made their way down the hitter's face.

He hadn't cried when his father had beaten him everyday in drunken rages, he hadn't cried when his best friend had been killed in a landmine explosion in Afghanistan, he hadn't cried even when Li-san had passed away leaving him all alone in the world once more.

But now, he cried. He cried because he knew that one half of his soul was gone and even if he were to live through this, he would only exist afterwards. His reason to live, his reason to get up each day and face his life was gone now. Parker had been part of his life for only a couple of years now but even in such a short time, even shorter if one considered the fact that they'd only been together for a couple of months now, she'd managed to do something that no one else had done... not even Aimee.

Aimee had been the only one who'd come close to making a place for herself in Eliot's heart but then he'd grown up and found that she wasn't the person he thought she was. But Parker wasn't like that... What you saw was what you got with her. Even when he didn't like her in the beginning, Eliot had respected the thief for her honesty and straightforwardness.

After coming to know her well enough, Eliot had found her company if not the most relaxing, the most comfortable. The two of them never had any trouble understanding where the other was coming from. They'd never misunderstood each other... neither on the job nor off it. And somewhere along the way, his little thief had done what she did best and stolen it off of him... his heart.

How it had happened neither of them had a clue... but the gruff hitter and the socially awkward thief fit together like they'd been made for each other, which maybe they had.

But now, as Eliot sat slumped against the wall with Parker's head in his lap, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent apology that would never reach its intended recipient, he knew in his heart that he had no wish to get through this alive... no reason any more. It might've seemed defeatist to anyone seeing this scene from the outside, might've seemed uncharacteristic of the man everyone new Eliot Spencer to be, but he'd had enough.

He'd had enough of trying to outrun his enemies everyday, trying to outrun his nightmares every night... The only saving grace in his life had been his team... and now they were all under attack. Knowing that Nate was clever enough to make sure that whoever was hunting them wouldn't be able to get to Sophie and Hardison, Eliot slowly and peacefully welcomed the darkness that was engulfing him in its fold.

In his utter relief at not having to run anymore, he almost didn't notice the slight tightening of Parker's fingers on his, he almost missed didn't believe it when he felt her fingers twine with his and her lips form his name. Thoroughly weak and thready, but her pulse was still there.

Parker was still alive... His little thief was still with him and that was all the hitter registered. Ignoring the various mind numbing aches and pains shooting through his body at every movement, he leaned down to gather her closer in his arms, tightening his hold on her.

"Parker... baby hang in there... We'll get you out of here..."

"El-Eli..ot..."

"Shhh... It's alright darlin'... just hold on..."

Even speaking required a major effort on his part but Eliot was used to ignoring even life threatening injuries until he had made sure that his team was alright. Feeling a little guilty at not even worrying about Nate, Sophie and Hardison, he was about to check in with them when he heard Nate's voice loud and clear in his ear

"Hold on guys... We're almost there. We'll get you home safe okay?... Just hold on for me."

Eliot's brain faintly registered running footsteps, people coming through the door and gathering around him and Parker. The darkness was stronger now but he was trying to fight his way out of it. He couldn't understand... the more he fought it the stronger it seemed to become. He was slightly aware of being shifted, his body screaming in pain at the slightest movement. He resisted it with everything in him when they tried to separate him from Parker but then Nate's voice came again softly this time in his ear

"Don't worry... I got you, and I'll make sure that both of you are not separated. Okay? Now let go and let the paramedics do their job"

Even at the edge of unconsciousness, Eliot Spencer believed the words of Nathan Ford. He'd always believed in Nate, even when Nathan Ford had just been a name, a faceless entity that chased him across continents. He knew that whatever happened, the mastermind always had a plan to get them through in one piece. Just the fact that the team had chosen to come for him and Parker rather than cut loose and leave as soon as they could, reinvented his faith in the life he'd led for the past two years.

He knew that Nate had committed mistakes, that they had committed mistakes but the difference between them and others like them was that even though mistakes were committed, they never backed down, never gave up until the job was finished. So, he let go and sank into the peaceful oblivion, knowing that he and Parker were in good hands... that they would be safe when he woke up again.

A/N: So there it is. Hope you guys thought it was ok... Don't forget to review your thoughts... Each review is like one of those little bottles of coffee you get from Starbucks... Yumm... :) Absolute perfection for my caffeine and review starved brain. ;P

So keep reading and reviewing... :)

lotsa luv

Macybear