author's note ; The final chapter. Do enjoy. It would make me rather happy if you reviewed this final chapter and let me know how you felt about the story. Thank you very much.

Rain drummed down the tin roof, setting the world ablaze in a natural musical. Pouring down the glass windows surrounding them, obscuring the outside world in a fishbowl panoramic. Watching the city lights blur, the sickly redhead turned towards his companion of the night. Taller, with slicked-back blonde hair, his companion had an air of dignity about him. Crystal clear blue eyes watched every move with precision, cataloging every moment for future reference. In his particular line of work, danger stemmed from every moment he didn't pay attention, and even from those he did.

Clearing his throat, the man stepped beside Kyle, watching the rain droplets' descent on the darkened city, lit only by human made fireflies. "This will be very dangerous," he said offhandedly.

Kyle nodded his response.

"Lives may be lost. Your life may be lost."

"It's a chance I have to take."

"Do you remember why you're doing this?" Gregory of Yardale asked curiously, staring sideways at the new-found mercenary.

Kyle hesitated, his mouth dry, palms sweaty. Gritting his teeth, he nodded. "Yes."

"Repeat it to me," Gregory insisted.

"No," Kyle protested hesitantly. "Its... its so wrong."

Gregory put his hand on Kyle's shoulder. "You benefit, I benefit. I don't see what is so wrong about that."

Kyle stiffened at the touch. "Mole is my friend."

"Mole used you."

"No, he had his reasons," Kyle said quickly.

"Kyle, you can hack into any security network," Gregory wheedled. "You're useful, and he used that to the best of his extent."

For a moment, Kyle thought about it. Gaining everything, but losing a friend. It sounded perfect in the long run, and perhaps he and Cartman would be happy afterward. Cartman would finally proclaim his undying love, and Kyle would finally feel the compassion behind those nights spent up late. On the other hand, Mole, who had been a driving force in his own sexuality for so long, would be gone for good.

Gregory moved away from the window, piling papers. "It's a simple task. You need only to input the password. When you leave the compound, my men will attack you. Mole will play the valiant hero, crashing into the fray and destroying my men." His voice grew passionate as he spoke, as if remembering something long forgotten. A smile on his face, he scribbled the final words on a check. "When he brings you to Cartman's, as he undoubtedly will in his infinite good nature, the final straws will be laid. He will discover the betrayal, and he will come to me."

Kyle felt his stomach lurch. He reminded himself of the greater good, of his life with Cartman. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Easy," he said dryly.

..~..

Cartman stared, open-mouthed, at the red-head. After a long moment, he closed his mouth, swallowing the words he was about to say. Kyle's blatant betrayal of a friend gave him chills. It was something to be expected of Cartman, not the innocent, mild mannered, friendly Jew everyone had grown to love so much. Even Cartman, in a fractional way, had grown to love Kyle. Admitting it would be another step into his deep, dark psyche that he didn't care to explore. After finding out his mother's secrets, there were precious few things he wanted to know about. His childhood had been a lie. He didn't want to make his sexuality a lie, too.

"Cartman? Are you okay?" Kyle asked, peering up at Eric's face.

Scoffing, Cartman blew air in Kyle's face. "I'm fine," he said. "You really did that?"

Kyle shrugged. "Is it really important?" he asked.

Cartman frowned. "Yes, its that goddamn important," he snapped, unable to put into words what made it so important to him.

"Are you upset?" Kyle asked cautiously, eyebrows knit into concern. "We can move away now. We can go wherever you want. He wrote me a blank check, Eric. Blank." He pulled the check from his pocket, waving it in front of the other's face. "Blank." Pressing his nose to Cartman's, he grinned. "Casa Bonita, or even the real thing. We can go to Mexico, China, Russia, Spain... The possibilities are -"

"You don't feel any remorse?" Cartman interrupted.

Kyle flinched, pulling away and looking down. After a moment, he shrugged slowly. "Sure I do. I will every day for the rest of my life. But I don't want to be reminded of it. If I tell myself what Gregory said, I'll eventually believe it. So what's wrong with me being happy right now?"

Cartman got up, feeling for the first time the stirring of emotion for the Jewish boy on the couch. Taking him by the hand, he helped him stand. "We shouldn't stay here, then," he said. "If any of your hair brained plan goes wrong, Mole will be on us like flies on shit."

Kyle wobbled slightly, frowning at Eric. "It wont go wrong," he assured. "Gregory knows him intimately. He can predict every move Mole makes. So far, he's been right every time."

Cartman sighed, wrapping his arms protectively around the frail Jewish boy. "You're too trusting," he said quietly.

Kyle inhaled sharply, wincing. "You're .... crushing me... you fatass," he puffed. Cartman let him go, scowling. "Why are you so worried?"

"Because I lo-"

The phone rang.

Talk about saved by the bell.

Cartman picked it off the table, placing it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Where ees Kyle?" the French accent demanded.

"He's right here. Where are you?"

"I'm een Gregory's shit-hole," Mole replied sarcastically. "Where ze fuck do you tzhink I am?"

"I'm not a mind reader, for Christ's sake. Just answer the question," Cartman said, his unease transferred into his shaky voice.

"Don't sound so worried. I'm taking care of eet. Gregory has not left his fancy penthouse," Mole said. A click in the background caught Cartman's attention, and a prolonged squeak make him almost ask where the Mercenary was, exactly. Mole, however, coughed, clearing his throat of whatever cigarette he just consumed. "I'll call you when eet ees over," he said, clicking the phone shut.

Cartman looked at Kyle, setting the phone down on the table. "He's at Gregory's," he said.

Kyle nodded. "That's the plan," he said, limping across the room. He grabbed his laptop bag, hitching it over his un-bruised shoulder. "If we're still going, this is all I need."

Cartman seemed suddenly reluctant. "Uh, yeah. I'm gonna get a few things." He tried to walk to the bedroom, but Kyle positioned himself between the man and his goal. "Move, Kyle, I need to grab something."

"No, everything we have here can be replaced."

Cartman paused, contemplating the honesty of the statement. Then he shook his head. "Not this," he answered, moving past Kyle. Once in the bedroom, he rummaged through dresser drawers for the one thing that couldn't be replaced. Pulling the tissue-paper-wrapped item out, he held it in the palm of his hand. Walking back out of the bedroom, he looked at Kyle. "Now we can leave."

"What did you grab?" Kyle asked suspiciously.

"The limited-edition pin we got from the movie premier."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You're always thinking about money."

"No, I'm not," Cartman protested. "You're the Jew, you're thinking about money. This is mine, it means more than money."

Pushing Cartman playfully, Kyle scoffed. "You're ridiculous."

Cartman pulled Kyle out the door, grabbing the keys as he went. "The truck is parked around back. We'll have to stop for gas, though."

Walking around the back, the pair got into the rusty, beat down truck. Cartman started the truck, rumbling out of the alley. He jerked to a stop, shifting back to first. He had a hard time learning a stick shift, but it was the only vehicle he could find. The vehicle lurched as he missed the gas, jumping onto the road. "Sorry," he apologized, watching Kyle wince in pain.

"Its alright," Kyle said, buckling himself in. "Grab a burger for me or something. I'm completely famished."

Cartman pulled into the gas station, parking on the outside and jumping out. "Yeah. It'll be a minute."

Kyle watched as Cartman moved around the truck, diligently checking the tires. Since getting the vehicle, he spent quite a bit of time making sure it would get him from A to B in one piece. Popping open the glove box, Kyle rummaged through papers and old McDonald's napkins, finding a pen buried at the back. They always were. Setting his laptop bag across his knees, he set a piece of paper on top. Scribbling, he began writing a list of the things he needed to do. At the beginning was Connect to internet, followed closely by Find airfare to Mexico. He wasn't sure if Mexico was the place for them, but they could always check. First, they'd have to cash the check.

Cartman spun the gas cap back on, closing the door. He tapped on the window as he walked by, disappearing into the convenience store. Kyle stared after him, timing his companion. After a minute passed, he looked down at the sheet of paper, mind wracking itself to find another item. As he put the pen to the paper, his phone rang.

Blood running cold, he fumbled to get the phone from his pocket, checking the caller. Mole. Gulping, he flipped his phone open. "Hello? Mole?" he asked quietly, mouth dry.

A scoff on the other end of the phone did nothing to tell him the identity of the caller.

"Mole, if this is you, its not funny."

A muffled voice in he background had him straining to hear the words.

"Hello? I'm not stupid, I have caller ID. Who is this?"

Silence. Kyle sighed, about to say something again, when he heard a thick grunt, followed by a gasp of pain over the phone. "Sheet, cocksucker!" Mole's gruff voice snarled under his breath.

"Hello?" Kyle felt sick, suddenly realizing the extent of his betrayal.

"Kyle, eets not safe-"

The phone went dead.

Startled and shaken, Kyle held the phone to his ear without thought, as if he could hear or see the events across the wires. He didn't notice Cartman leaving the store, didn't notice as he got into the truck, didn't notice the concerned questions his way. When Cartman touched him on the arm, Kyle yelped, dropping the phone.

"Dude, Kyle, you okay?"

"Y...yeah."

"Who called?"

"Wrong number," Kyle said dully.

Between the seats, the phone rang again. Kyle shied away from it, while Cartman pushed his hand between the cushions to grab the phone. "It's Mole..." he said in irritation. After a moment's pause, he hit answer.

"Hello, Kyle?" Gregory's smooth voice came over the receiver, able to charm birds from their nests and take candy effortlessly from babies.

"This is Eric."

"Well, either way, good fellow. It has been done. You're free to go your way, but do cash that check soon," Gregory said, a cheer in his voice that Cartman couldn't place. "Thank Kyle for his help, and do wish him a speedy recovery. Farewell, Eric Cartman of South Park. It was a pleasure working with the both of you."

Closing the phone, Cartman looked at Kyle.

"What did he say?" the red-head asked.

"It's done," Cartman answered.

"Then Mole is dead, and we're free to do anything?"

"That's what Gregory said."

Kyle slid the piece of paper to Cartman. "Lets stop at a coffee shop. After that, I was thinking Palomas, Mexico."

Putting the truck in gear, Cartman nodded.

"Anywhere but here."