Warning: It's getting a bit ugly... nothing graphic though.


In was in the middle of the following night – 2.15 to be exact – when Jane's phone rang. He was asleep for a change and it took him a moment to get his bearings, then dread filled him and he was wide awake in a matter of seconds. A call at that time of night couldn't be anything good. He checked the display and found out that the caller was his grandfather.

"Hi Jonathan," he said with a worried voice. "Everything alright?"

"Patrick, I'm supposed to pass on a message to you and you should know that a gun is currently pushing against my neck," the old man answered, trying to sound composed, which he most certainly wasn't.

Patrick swallowed audibly and started to shake, barely able to hold the phone. "What's happened? Are you alright? What about Elisa?" he whispered anxiously. Teresa had long since awoken and held her panicky lover in her arms, feeling quite on edge herself but still trying to give him strength. He had somehow managed to switch the phone to speakers in spite of his state so she could hear what was going on.

His grandfather sighed. "Patrick, please try to stay calm, okay? We're uninjured at the moment. Your grandmother and I have been abducted by a guy who identified himself as an agent from the CBI. We thought, he could be trusted. I remember seeing him when we visited you at work. Anyway, I'm afraid, he killed the two officers on duty to watch our home. We've been forced into a car at gunpoint and have been driving for about five hours in a southward direction."

A bit of a struggle could be heard over the phone and a shout of "Ow!".

"Grandpa, please. Are you hurt?" Patrick cried into the phone.

Heavy breathing was his only answer for a while but then Jonathan's voice was audible again. "Don't worry, just a scratch. Obviously I'm talking too much. Sorry for worrying you, my boy. Well, I'm supposed to only give you the message now. It's a bit lame, if you ask me, but…" There was another short tussle going on and the old man could be heard telling someone off for being a brainless brute.

It was apparent to Lisbon that Jonathan Jane wanted to show a strong front to his grandson and she admired his courage. There was much to be said about the psychiatrist's abilities to take charge of a tricky situation. And though he most certainly wasn't in control right now but at the mercy of Red John's confederates, he still kept his dignity and self-confident poise. She could only hope that the monster himself wouldn't break him.

After another short moment the old man could be heard again, "Sorry, Patrick. These villains seem to be hypersensitive when it comes to their master. A sure sign of an insecure personality structure. Anyway, they seem to think of that message to you as the epitome of brilliancy. I beg to differ, but I have to relate it to you nonetheless or they'll hurt your grandma. So listen, my boy, and know that whatever happens from this point on – it's not your fault and we don't blame you. On to the message: It'll end where it all began." Jonathan chuckled without humor. "See? It's boring and not even very precise. But I'm sure, you know what it's supposed to tell you, son. Stay strong and be wise. I have to hang up now. We love you. Bye, Patrick."

"I love you too, grandpa," the blond man stammered into the phone just in time before the connection was cut off, tears streaming down his face.


Teresa didn't know what to do at first, paralyzed with fear and dread, but in the end her training won out and she took charge of the situation. With her best command voice she demanded, "Patrick, pull yourself together. That's an order. We need to inform the others and come up with a plan. I need you to go and wake Rigs and Cho. I'll do the same with Van Pelt and Hightower. And I'll call Minelli and LaRoche while you'll go down to the kitchen and make us all some very strong coffee. Understood?"

He nodded and left the room looking like a zombie, but at least he seemed to function reasonably well. That he was in his sleeping attire didn't occur to him, but it didn't matter anyway in her opinion. She put on jeans and a sweater and hurried down the hall to Madeleine's bedroom.

About fifteen minutes later the occupants of the house gathered downstairs all carrying mugs with the coffee Patrick had prepared. He was the last to stumble into the living room still busy buttoning up his shirt, his vest completely open as well. They all looked bad, but Jane looked like hell, white as a sheet but adamant to keep it together.

"Alright everyone. I just tried to reach Matthew Jane and neither he nor his wife are answering their phones. I've arranged for officers from San Jose PD to check on their residence and the security guard supposed to be there, but there's a strong possibility that also that part of the Jane family is in Red John's clutches," Lisbon explained as evenly as possible.

"As we expected, he's planning a showdown. Judging from the message he had Jonathan Jane give to us, there's only one logical location for it: Patrick's house in Malibu. According to the message it could've been the fairgrounds at Red Bluff as well, but Patrick's grandfather was circumspect enough to mention that they were being taken southwards," the senior agent continued. She took a deep breath. "Okay, suggestions anyone?"

"What did Minelli say? You spoke with him, didn't you?" Cho inquired.

"Yes. He's sanctioned the use of a helicopter, but it won't get us all down there. Furthermore, he's coordinating local support. LAPD is being informed as well as our district office there. Unfortunately, we can't be sure whom to trust. LaRoche is assembling a team of CBI agents from our office here as we speak. They'll be on the road as soon as possible. And there's one chief on LAPD that J. J. recommended and who's been informed. According to LaRoche, Goldman is above suspicion and very capable. And he has dealt with Red John before. He'll lead the prep work down in Malibu until we get there. Madeleine? Do you have something to add?"

The ministry employee answered, "I've only reached the vice head of the department, but that's probably better anyway because the head himself was rather close with Bertram. Jennings has granted us full political support and is faxing a letter of authorization for you, Agent Lisbon, declaring you as in charge of the whole operation as we speak. Oh, and I got permission to take active part in the operation as well, even though I'm not an agent anymore. That's all I could do at such a short notice."

"It's good enough," Cho answered. "Seems like we have at least the official part covered. How are we going to proceed, Boss?"

"I've called the airport. There's a flight to LA leaving in a little under two hours. I booked the last five seats," Van Pelt chimed in.

Lisbon took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Alright. Here's what we'll do. There are three spots in the chopper. Jane, Cho, and I will take them. That'll get us to Malibu in about three hours time, if we add the prep time and everything. Rigsby and Van Pelt? You, Hightower, LaRoche, and Minelli – if he wants to come along – are taking the plane." She breathed. "Make sure, a police car is waiting for you in LA and get to Malibu as fast as possible. If all goes to plan, you should be there in approximately four hours. The rest of our Sacramento support team will have to take cars. I don't think that they'll be there in time but we'll have to hope."

She stopped and looked at everyone. "Okay, guys. We don't know what to expect. He keeps presumably at least six people as hostages, two of them teenagers. How many of his minions are going to be there with him is impossible for us to know at this point. One of them might be our longtime colleague Ron, but we have to forget that. He's a mole and doesn't deserve our consideration. Same goes for our former boss of course." She sighed heavily and spoke urgently, "I know it goes without saying but I want you all to be extra careful. Wear vests and carry your weapons at all times. Our first priority is to get the hostages out unharmed." Her face turned even more serious and she made eye-contact with each member of her team, one by one. "Don't hesitate to do what needs to be done. I expect, you know what I mean." They all nodded solemnly. "And please stay safe. Alright, let's go."


The flight with the helicopter was an ordeal for all of them. Jane was barely keeping it together as it was and the news that also the rest of his family had been taken by Red John didn't help matters. It all culminated in a fight with Lisbon about him carrying a weapon. He insisted that he should, she insisted that he shouldn't and wouldn't and wasn't licensed to do so anyway. She nearly faltered when they realized that in their haste they hadn't thought of bringing a bulletproof vest for him. But she was adamant in her conviction that Patrick shouldn't be allowed to carry a weapon anywhere near Red John. Still, knowing he would be facing his nemesis completely unarmed and unprotected didn't sit entirely well with her either.

"You'll stay behind me at all times, Jane," she ordered. "I'll shield you."

He laughed derisively in her direction to his right. "In your dreams! Not gonna happen, Lisbon. I won't allow for you to become an even bigger target." Turning to his left where Cho sat he went on, "Kimball, I ask you as my colleague and, well, my friend. Well I hope you are. My friend, that is. I mean, you've said so before, but… Anyway. Would you please act as my bodyguard today? I know, it's a lot to ask and it puts you in even more danger but I…" He stopped his rambling and lowered his head.

The Asian agent raised his brows and eyed him with increasing respect. Then he gave a short nod. "I'll always have your back, Patrick. I look out for my family."

"Thank you," Jane replied hoarsely. "I really appreciate it." Then he resumed his nervous wiggling and fidgeting.

Cho acknowledged his words with another curt nod and Lisbon took hold of one of her lover's twitchy hands, stroking it in a way supposed to calm him.

"This is it," Jane stated a while later. "This is the end of it – one way or the other," he repeated mostly to himself, just now fully realizing what was about to happen. "It'll finally be over," he whispered. "I just hope the prize won't be too high."

"Personally I hope the prize will be at a maximum for HIM," Cho admitted.

"You want him dead," Patrick stated with some astonishment.

"I won't deny it," the other man answered and eyed his boss warily. "I'm sure, he'll put up a fight and will be armed, so hopefully killing him will become inevitable and hence fully justifiable."

Lisbon acknowledged his statement with a covered nod and a look that told her second in command that her own view on the matter matched his, but she made sure her boyfriend didn't see it.

"I can live with that," Jane replied carefully, which made his two colleagues exchange another look, a very astounded one this time that didn't escape the mentalist's notice. "What? You don't believe me? Please. All I want at this point is for this whole nightmare to be over - with no one from our side being killed. And I want him to go down for good. Prison won't guarantee that."

Lisbon bent over to him and pressed a kiss on his mouth. "I'm glad, we're obviously all in agreement then," she said gently against his lips. "We'll be there shortly. I'm very proud of you, Patrick, and I love you."

A small smile found its way on his lips for the first time that night. "I love you too, Teresa. Please stay safe. Promise me not to take any risks." His hand caressed her cheek. "I can't live without you."

"I still have to do my job, Patrick. But I promise, I'll be extra careful. I know, I'm one of his main targets." She looked him deep in the eyes. "I'll be fine. It's going to be okay. We're the best damn team in this state. He just has some stupid minions to support him."

"We both know that you can't promise that, but thanks for trying. I'm glad you haven't lost your optimism, my love." He engaged her in another kiss, one that carried a lot of desperation.


A few minutes later the pilot informed them they were about to land on the private helicopter landing site of some celebrity residing in Malibu who owed Minelli a favor.

They were met by local law enforcement officers. Lisbon started to brief them on the situation they were likely to find with six hostages kept by a very dangerous serial killer and an unknown number of his faithful minions in the Jane residence.

The officer in charge from LA stepped forward, the very one LaRoche had recommended, and told them that they had two SWAT teams specializing in hostage situations already in place around the house. All handpicked, he assured them. From their preliminary observations there were about ten armed people inside the building with the hostages and there was quite a bit of activity going on.

"We have marksmen placed strategically around the estate and on the rooftops of the adjoining properties, which have also been evacuated to prevent collateral damage," Chief Goldman explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "And we have several ambulances and paramedics in close proximity as well – just in case."

"Thank you for your prompt and competent preparations, Chief. I can't stress enough how dangerous and ruthless that man is. So to ensure the safety of the hostages we have to keep calm. No unnecessary or premature shooting," Lisbon stated.

Goldman nodded in his no nonsense way. "I understand, ma'am. These are our best men and they are all equipped with communication devices. They know that you're in charge of this operation, Agent Lisbon. We'll get you equipped as well and they'll await your orders."

"I appreciate this and I'm glad there won't be any questioning of authority here. That's the last thing we need right now," Jane chimed in sincerely.

The chief turned his attention to the consultant and nodded his acknowledgment. "Agent, we know what we're dealing with. Everyone in law enforcement in this state knows what kind of man Red John is. We actually had a case here in Malibu about a decade ago, in that same house. A young woman and a child. I was one of the first officers at the scene back then. It was by far the worst one I've ever encountered." He suddenly eyed the consultant warily. "You, sir, I think you were there as well. I remember you."

Jane nodded and tried to speak around the lump in his throat. What came out was a hoarse whisper, "My wife and daughter. He killed my wife and daughter."

"You're Patrick Jane," the chief concluded. "It's your house and your family held hostage in there."

"Yes."

"Then you shouldn't be here, sir," the chief said resolutely.

Lisbon chimed in again. "Normally I'd say you're right. But in this special case, believe me, we need him here. This is personal. Red John wants him here and if we want any chance to solve this without anyone innocent getting hurt or worse killed, we have to play by his rules as long as possible."

"Well, you're in charge, Agent. But I must enter my strongest objections."

"Duly noted, Chief. But please trust us on this one. Jane is the foremost expert on the case and he's the one Red John wants to deal with," Lisbon said urgently.

"Aye, ma'am."

Patrick suddenly remembered that he'd drawn up a floor plan of his former home during their flight. He pulled it out of one of his many pockets and handed it over to the chief. "Sir? This is the layout of the house. Maybe it'll help you in your preparations."

"Yes, thanks, Mr. Jane. We had a rough outline to work with from the last time, but this one is much more precise."


When they were in front of the house Jane's phone rang. The display showed no caller ID. He answered it hesitantly after putting it on speakers.

"Hello, Patrick. Nice of you to join my merry little party. Isn't this a lovely location for a memorable celebration?" a high-pitched voice asked him.

Ever since they had arrived at his former home a strange calm had come over Jane. He had of course applied several breathing techniques on himself during the flight all meant to keep him focused but he'd had little hope, they would actually work. Obviously they did. Or it was the adrenalin rush. Whatever it was, he felt detached and unflappable at the moment and was quite satisfied with it. Thus he answered without panic but in a slightly condescending tone, "You know, you can drop that whole altering your voice routine, uncle Joseph. It's getting old and tedious. Just tell us what you want and let's get it over with. I'm really fed up with your endless games. Aren't you bored as well by now?"

"Okay, Patrick. If you want to play it like that, I'll cut short on the exchange of pleasantries. I thought we could behave like the well-mannered gentlemen we are, but if you want to be rude instead it can't be helped. A pity really, but as I've arranged this show just for you, I'll accommodate you," the serial killer announced, annoyance clearly discernible in his voice. "I want you and your mistress to come inside. I want to inform you of the details in person."

Teresa signaled to her boyfriend to try and stall their opponent. Patrick nodded his acknowledgment. "I want some proof that all members of my family are unharmed – and no, I certainly don't count you in there and couldn't care less if you suddenly dropped dead. As long as I don't know about the state of your hostages, I'm not willing to play along," Jane told his nemesis stoically.

Red John chuckled. "Oh Patrick. Do you really think you have any control over this situation? Maybe I'll just kill them one by one until you man up and meet me face to face, you little coward."

Jane rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You: the mean, powerful supervillain. I: just the hapless, inferior victim. Cut the crap, Joseph. You've lost this game and you know it. We wouldn't be here in this situation if that wasn't the case. I get it that you want to cause as much harm as possible while you go down. I on the other hand will do whatever I can to prevent that. And I'll succeed."

Lisbon cast him an appreciative glance and indicated with her head that the rest of their trusted group had arrived and that Patrick didn't need to play for time anymore.

The tone the serial killer used for his next message was distinctly miffed. "You're going on my last nerve, jackass. Your arrogance knows no bounds, does it?"

"Oh please. Not that same old story once again. You're losing your touch, uncle. And I hope you can see the irony in your last statement, Mr. Megalomania. Now I want the proof I asked for and then I'll come in – together with my friends. Take it or leave it," Jane told him, sounding almost bored.

That changed however when the voice of his grandmother could be heard over the phone. "Patrick," she groaned desperately into the phone. "Please do what he says. He has taken Mary into one of the upstairs rooms and we don't know what he's doing to her. Please. We're all in bonds and there're so many guns in here. I'm really worried."

"I'm so sorry, Elisa. You were never meant to become a part of this madness," Patrick whispered brokenly. "I'll do my best to get you out of this. I promise."

A devious laugh could be heard. "Not so cocky anymore, dear nephew? Well, that's the only proof you'll get. Come inside or grandma Jane will be the first to pay for your insolence. Take it or leave it," Red John mocked and cut the connection.


Patrick was panting for air and was about to lose his cool. Teresa was by his side immediately. "Breathe, Jane. Breathe. They're alright. We'll go in and get them out. Please stay focused."

He bent forward and forced himself to take deep, even breaths. A moment later he straightened up, regained his poise, and said as evenly as possible, "I'm fine now. Sorry. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's do it." Lisbon eyed him carefully. She was obviously both amazed and pleased with what she found, pressed a fierce kiss to his lips and whispered, "I love you, Patrick, and I'm really proud of you. You're doing great so far - as I knew you would."

Their group of confidants exchanged fierce and determined nods. They'd all been briefed on the most probable locations of Red John's men. Chief Goldman came by and added that they'd just gotten new visual information on the actual situation inside. While explaining he pointed out the exact spots of the people in the house on the map he'd been given by Jane.

"It looks like four or five of the hostages have been handcuffed to the banister of the stairs leading to the second floor. Our main target is hidden between them approximately in the middle of the staircase. He's taken cover behind them and the wall on the other side, so he can't be taken out by our marksmen without risking the hostages' lives. All of his confederates seem to be downstairs in the open entrance hall and living area. One or two more might be hiding somewhere upstairs. If they stay somewhat in their current positions, then on your mark my men can take out all but two of the ten that we can account for at the moment."

He indicated two marks on the plan. "Those two and our main target are out of our reach. You'll have to take them down from the inside. The code word for our marksmen to strike is 'red-hot'. Sorry, it's a bit of a bad pun in this case but we always use it. They'll fire as fast as possible the moment you give the order and they can get a clear shot, Agent Lisbon."

"Understood," the senior agent replied. "Agent Cho is my second. Should anything happen to me, he'll be the one to take over."

That being said both Lisbon and Cho got equipped with communication devices.


The homicide team complemented by LaRoche and Hightower had a short meeting to clear up their tactics and then they made their way over to the entrance door. Cho and Rigsby went in first with their weapons at the ready with Lisbon right behind with Jane following her. Van Pelt, LaRoche, and Hightower covered his back. As soon as they entered ten guns were directed at them.

"Put your guns down and no one will be hurt," Lisbon demanded from the criminals while her teammates aimed their weapons at the two minions not covered by their men outside.

A taunting laugh met her command. "Really, Agent Lisbon?" her former boss mocked. "That's the best you have to offer?" He sneered. "I like to think that I offer a better bargain for my beloved followers."

The serial killer was nearly completely hidden from sight and only his voice made it possible to locate him. The members of the Jane family were indeed chained to the hand rail, or rather alongside it. The whole setting reinforced Patrick's notion of those stairs being the walk of horror for him. Closest to the bottom was Jonathan Jane, three stairs above him his grandson Paul was placed with Red John hidden behind him. Next in line was Matthew, then his wife, while Elisa formed the tail end. Mary was nowhere in sight. Their mouths were covered with tape, the old man was sporting a cut and a black eye. The others seemed to be unharmed.

"Patrick, step forward. I want to see you clearly while we talk," Joseph Earl, alias Gale Bertram, alias Red John, demanded.

In the rising sun a twinkling light could be seen beside him, which the trained agents and Jane immediately identified as being caused by a reflection on a knife's blade.


"Why don't you do me the same courtesy, dear uncle?" Patrick replied in an even, cold voice that was meant to evoke confidence in his teammates.

The killer chuckled. "Ah, you've still not accepted the truth of the situation. But I'll be kind enough to enlighten you. From now on whenever you do something I don't like, one of your unfortunate relatives will pay the prize. That's a game you should be most familiar with, Patrick."

"Hurt one of them and one of your minions will pay the prize," Jane said, his mask of strength and indifference still firmly in place, though on the inside he was anything but collected. "Not that you'll care much about it, but it might show them just how good a bargain you have to offer them. Then again, somehow your brainless followers seem to enjoy dying for you." He shrugged.

"Don't be a fool, Patrick. Step forward or this little bastard here-", he indicated Paul, "-will get well acquainted with my knife." To show that he meant business his arm came around the boy's neck and he pointed the blade to his throat. Paul's eyes widened in panic and he shook like a leaf, a muted cry could be heard muffled by the tape covering his mouth.

Jane exchanged a few looks and gestures with Cho and Lisbon and moments later the Asian agent stepped forward to shield his unprotected friend, who went to stand behind him. Van Pelt and Rigsby made sure to flank Patrick aiming their weapons at those of Red John's followers who might have direct access to their teammate. This put both Cho and the consultant in rather close proximity to the bottom of the staircase with Lisbon right behind her boyfriend.

Another derisive laugh came from the serial killer who was now only about five or six feet away from them. "Are we scared, my dear Patrick? There's no need. I'm not interested in causing you bodily harm - at least not at the moment. I enjoy watching you suffer too much."

"Well, excuse me if I don't trust the word of a sick psychopath," Jane told him, trying to catch his opponent's eyes without success. "Now I would really appreciate it if you could come to the point. What is it you want?"

Earl clicked his tongue. "I'm honestly disappointed in you. I'd thought you'd have figured that out by now."

Jane rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. You want me to suffer, you want to destroy me, you want to see me broken and smashed… et cetera, et cetera…," he enumerated. "But I was more thinking about your immediate plans."

It cost him dearly to keep up the façade. He was scared to death and full of rage at the same time. He wanted for the whole thing to end. He felt helpless and overwhelmed. But he knew he had to stay strong – for his family and friends, and for Angela and Charlotte. Never before had he felt such all encompassing pressure, but knowing who depended on him actually grounded him. And to him it felt like Lisbon, who stood only two feet behind him, sent him all her love and strength. That gave him the energy to prevail over his fears.

Red John chuckled again. "Ah Patrick. Seems like you don't know me that well after all. I thought, I had made it clear that I want to be your friend. Unfortunately you keep declining my generous offers. All I want is for the child of my sister to become my closest companion. We could be really great together. I'm just helping you to get there. All these worthless creatures you've surrounded yourself with are just keeping you back. That's why they have to die. You have so much potential. And you were on such a good way until you degraded yourself and decided you needed that narrow-minded whore of yours to he happy." He spat out the last word.

"I was even nice enough to grant you satisfaction for your carnal desires. Sent you one of my most beloved mistresses to use as you please because I'm generous to my friends and especially to my future companion and only too happy to share my empire with you. And still you spite me."

"And I will continue to do so till my dying breath," Jane replied emphatically. "No matter what you do or offer – we'll never be on the same side. So why don't you just quit?"

"Now? After all my careful grooming? No. You'll come to see things my way eventually. Deep down you already know that you're like me. First I hated you because of our shared blood and for killing my beloved sister. But over the years I've come to love you, my boy. You and I share so much more than just our blood. You're the only man worthy of standing by my side as my equal. Your mind is as magnificent as mine. We're born to reign, Patrick. Our name says it all: we are Earls."

Jane snorted. "Frankly, the only Earl I care about is Grey, not red."

"Ah, humor. A great weapon. But seriously, you should be a bit more grateful, dear Patrick. I've done so much for you. First I forgave you your insolence ten years ago. You've been punished for it and I'm more than willing to move past it. And I've even forgiven you for what you've done to my sister. I'm reasonable after all and I accept that most of the guilt lies with that miserable thief you had for a father. But Alexander Jane paid for his deeds in the end. He was one of my more memorable works of art, don't you agree? Very satisfying. And I created that one also for your pleasure. That lowlife never deserved to be the father of a great man like you after all."

"Yeah, memorable indeed - considering that it was certainly one of the most inept and sloppy murders you've ever committed," Jane taunted him. "You didn't even realize that Alexander, though drugged, still managed to pull out a strand of your admittedly sparsely hair. It confirmed your identity nicely for us."

"Maybe that was my plan all along? That's for me to know and for you to, well, never know," the serial killer sneered.

Patrick noticed at once that he'd just accomplished to touch a sour spot. Even though his nemesis tried to appear unperturbed, he could hear the strain in Joseph's voice. The consultant knew that he played a dangerous game and that it might not be overly smart to mock the other man, no, the monster, like that. Red John took great pride in what he deemed his artwork, and like most narcissistic artists he didn't take kindly to negative criticism. But this whole conversation had turned more and more into a stalemate and Jane had decided to up the ante. Something had to happen and soon because he couldn't keep up this façade much longer. He felt the strain already and he really, really wanted it all to be over.

"But I can see that you want to try me, dear Patrick. You don't believe in my sincereness and you've obviously always been someone who needed to feel the consequences. There's no convincing you with words it seems. Well, I'm more than ready to accommodate you. But know that whatever happens from now on is entirely your fault. In the end, there'll only be one Jane left standing – the only one with Earl-blood." He paused a moment for effect.

"First, I'll kill little Paul. Doesn't he look exactly like your bastard of a father, dear Patrick?" He chuckled cruelly. "Then I'll kill your other uncle. He doesn't like you anyway and his last thoughts will be filled with hatred for you. The next one will be that vile woman." He indicated Emma. "She's quite useless in the bigger picture, but she was stupid enough to marry a Jane and has to be punished for it."

His voice grew smugger and smugger. "And then we'll move on to the really valuable ones – for you, that is. I'm not decided whether to take grandma or grandpa Jane first. But I'm sure, inspiration will hit on the way. I'll make them suffer because they produced the bastard who killed my sister. And last but not least, little Mary. She's just the same age your daughter would be now, isn't she?" He uttered an ugly laugh.

"To make things a bit more interesting, I'll offer agent Lisbon a deal she won't be able to resist: her life for the girl's - not that it will save either of their lives in the end, but Teresa's useless little sacrifice and your suffering along the way will be very amusing to watch. And you'll just have to wait and see what I have in store for the rest of your merry little band of so called friends, my dear Patrick."

After he'd finished relating his plans with a self-satisfied snicker, he started to push the blade of his knife against little Paul's throat. The child whimpered and blood started to seep down his neck.


TBC

A bit of a cliffhanger, I know. But I'll post the next chapter soon.

A/N: I know, I took some poetic license with the layout of the staircase in Jane's house. I had to, in order for the whole set-up to work. From what we've seen of it on the show, up to at least two-thirds of its range there's no wall on either side of it. In my scenario, however, the wall starts further down.