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CHAPTER NINE:

To Emma.

The team casually gathered in the Genoa safe house, after the dramatic events at the port waiting for the departure of their flight back to the United States. Ethan, Jane and Benji kept glancing towards the closed bedroom door, wondering when Will would emerge and the state he'd be in when he did. He hadn't spoken to anyone since being dragged away from Emma's body, locking himself away.

Will wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, even though they tormented him with regret. He could've saved Emma. If he'd known her plans he could've been there to help her, rather than just watch her die.

He stood on the balcony, looking out towards the port remembering the past few weeks spent with Emma had been volatile to say the least. He'd had a second chance to make things right with her, and plenty of opportunities to tell her how he felt but he'd ruined his chance. His mind then played the unforgettable scene over and over again; Emma's blue eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life.

A sharp knock on the door couldn't sway his thoughts from Emma or the dull ache in his chest. Soft footsteps appeared behind him but he didn't look over his shoulder as Ethan spoke.

"We have a problem."

"Only one?" Will muttered, staring darkly at the super-agent – the man he was holding responsible for Emma's death. She's trusted her mentor and now she was dead.

"Angelina Rogers wasn't there when the clean-up arrived," Ethan stated.

"Say that again?"

"She'll know Anton is in IMF custody, and she'll do whatever it takes to get him out."

Will rubbed the back of his neck; stalking pass Ethan to enter the bedroom where his blue eyes instantly swayed towards the bed, remembering the kiss he'd stared with Emma.

"What's this got to do with me?"

"We need to bring her in and your part of the team –"

"Bring her in? Are you serious?" Will shook his head. "She's the one that should be on a slab! Not Emma!"

"I know you're hurting –"

"You don't know a damn thing!"

"Look Angel is smart; no doubt her brother has taught her a few tricks –"

"So let me take the bitch out!" Will snapped finding letting his emotions implode.

"She will pay for what she did, but I don't want you hell-bent on revenge because Angel will find a way to use that against you." Ethan easily kept his cool. "We're going to lead her back to the States and make her play our game on our home ground. She won't get away a second time,"

"No she won't." Will promised more to Emma's memory than anything else.

"Get some sleep; we leave first thing tomorrow morning."

After Ethan left the bedroom, Will laid on the bed not bothering to get out of his day clothes or under the blankets. He stared at the ceiling wanting to relax but his mind wouldn't let him, it kept torturing him with memories of Emma and how he'd let her slip through his fingers again. His gaze lowered from the ceiling as a thought struck him; Emma's things were still here. He sat up and hopped off the bed, racing to the wardrobe where he discovered her black duffle bag. He dropped to his knees and began pouring through the contents.

There were the usual amount of weapons and fake passports hidden within the lining, but he picked out the last shirt he'd seen her in and held the material so tightly within his grasp he probably wrinkled it indefinitely.

"Dammit Emma," he lightly shook his head when something caught his eye. A notebook lay amongst the clothes.

He dropped the shirt and reached for the notebook, flicking through the pages where the black ink was scribbled upon the pages in Emma's untidy scrawl. Some of the words went around photos, the faces he recognized as her family members but what shocked him the most was stumbling across a photo of him and Emma during their very first mission together. She still had the flowing blonde hair, and her pretty features were younger and not harden by the profession.

He read quietly for seemingly ages, losing himself with her words and discovering he never really knew her at all. She spoke about the difficulties of being a female in the agency, and fighting off male agents who thought a quick roll in the hay would make her crack. It was no secret that the Secretary valued his female agents – knowing their wyes got the job done without a body count or an explosive mess to clean up afterwards.

In the early years most of the pages talked about how much she missed her family, and knew the danger her job posed but then she spoke about Will at great length. She worried about their relationship, and then he reached a point where the writing was smudged by what appeared to be teardrops. She mourned for their baby, rationalizing with herself that it was for the best. Will snapped the notebook closed, the dull ache in his chest stretching out a little more – she went through this all alone, this book her only comfort.

Will opened the book again and tore out the photo of him and Emma, stuffing it into his pant pocket for safe keeping. Everything else needed to be burned – no part of Emma could exist. It was protocol. He'd grabbed a bin from the main room, no speaking to anyone before locking himself in the bedroom again. He gathered Emma's belongings and dumped them into the bin, pulling out a lighter from his pocket.

After this Emma Malone would be a ghost, a vague memory to her family and a hero that died in the line of duty. But in Will's heart, she'd linger forever. The what ifs would taunt him in his loneliness moments, and his eyes would always drift to the shadows, hoping to see his love again.
He snapped the lighter, watching the flame before dropping it into the bin where it ignited the clothes and papers. "Goodbye Emma." He muttered, watching the flames until they became nothing but ashes remains.

The team arrived at the airport early the next morning, checking in for their flight home when the tiny hairs on the back of Will's neck rose to attention. Someone was watching them. His blue eyes studied their surroundings, but nothing sinister stood out. Ethan had mentioned Angelina could be waiting for them, waiting for the right moment to strike and he hoped the bitch would reveal herself soon; he was itching for a fight and he'd draw out her death as slowly as he could.

He followed the others silently onto the plane, listening to their mindless chatter before claiming a window seat. He watched the people on the tarmac prepare the plane and load up the baggage when Benji dropped into the seat beside him.

He glanced at his teammate noticing the puffiness around his eyes hadn't gone down. The British agent took Emma's death hard; they'd been friends for years and protected each other like siblings.

"You alright?" Will's vocal cords stretched and he cleared his throat realizing he hadn't spoken aloud since the day before.

"No," Benji shook his head, turning his damp face towards him. "I can't believe she's gone."

"It's the downside of the job," he muttered glancing across the aisle where Ethan and Jane talked quietly.

"But Emma is…was one of the best,"

"You can't cheat death Benji,"

Benji muttered something under his breath, and Will frowned.

"What was that?"

"I felt like someone was watching me at the airport," he massaged his temples.

"We're running on empty Benji," Will stated relaxing in his seat as the plane easily glided through the clouds. The aircraft hummed beneath them and the flight attendants were beginning the first round of drinks service. "How about a drink?"

"Yeah, I could use a stiff one." Benji chuckled. "Emma wasn't a big drinker, two beers and she'd be dancing on the tables,"

Will couldn't control the laugh that escaped his lips, his mood lifting as he recalled the couple of times he'd seen Emma drunk. "She was a great poker player though; she could bluff with the best of them."

Benji nodded, "I lost a few hundred pounds to her, on more than one occasion."

The flight attendant paused her trolley beside us and took our order, the little bottle of liquor lining up on our tray tables. Once she'd moved on Will unscrewed the first cap raising the bottle, capturing Ethan and Jane's attention.

"To Emma Malone," they raised their glasses and they toasted to their fallen friend.
The team didn't know what tomorrow held, or how Angelina would come at them, but Will was certain of one thing – she'd die by his hand.