A/N: This is an alternative ending to How Much Pain Can You Take. I have always enjoyed the talent of Dylan Walsh (Messier) and wondered what it would be like to expand his role as the mole just a bit. Also, what would happen if Chris decided to pull the trigger before Pride and Brody got to him?

What If: Part 1

Ok, shoot him and then what? The pain isn't going away and you'll be left with something way worse inside you…

Captain, Jim Messier, stood at the back of bar watching as Pride's protégé proceeded to drown in a combination of agonizing grief and whiskey. He actually felt bad for LaSalle and had to wonder why his mentor and father figure wasn't taking better care of the grieving agent.

Could it be that Dwayne Pride was suffering from a bad case of guilt? When your arch nemeses strikes at heart of one of people and hits them where they live that had to hurt. Whatever the reason, Pride's neglectfulness of his agent would be Messier's gain.

Messier had a score to settle. Baitfish had killed two of his people and was now threatening to sell out his girlfriend, Sasha Broussard to the U.S. Attorney. Then there was Pride himself who had just arrested, his fair lady on a charge of contraband. Not that he blamed the agent for doing his job, but Pride was too good. It wouldn't be long now before he figured out that Messier had jumped into bed with Sasha.

So, Messier needed a plan. He wasn't about to let his lady sail down the river without a paddle nor was he about to let Baitfish get away with killing his people. Messier had already fed LaSalle the story of his former partner, Theo Garland, and how he fallen into a deep dark hole in his quest for satisfaction against his wife's killer. He could see that LaSalle was already teetering on the edge and wondered exactly how much it would take before the young man fell. If he could get the young NCIS agent to take care of Baitfish, then that would solve a lot of problems, he and Sasha would be free and Dwayne Pride would be none the wiser believing himself to blame.

Loosening his tie, Messier walked up to the bar and took the seat next to LaSalle. "I'll have what he's having."

"Bourbon and Branch Water," LaSalle told the bartender, looking down into his glass. He wasn't in the mood for company, but if Messier wanted to drink next to him he wouldn't complain. He had just been through the worst day of his life and things didn't appear to be getting any better.

The news of Baitfish getting a deal and the promise of new life had just about done him in. To boot he had to live with Savannah's father asking him to seek justice for the death of his little girl and being virtually helpless to do anything about it. Baitfish was going to walk and there wasn't a damn thing he could do.

"It's been a hell of day, hasn't it?" Messier asked mulling over his drink as the near distraught, agent pounded the rest of his. "I bet you're wondering how much more pain you can take?"

The answer was none, absolutely no more. Chris thought silently, reaching for the bottle of bourbon that the bartender had left on the counter. If one more thing happened to his family, blood related or otherwise, he was going implode. As it was he could barely keep things together for the sake of the case.

Messier leaned in slightly. "You know I just got back from talking to the families of my two officers. I can only imagine how you must have felt having to face Savannah's father with the notion that his little girl was killed because of what you do every day and now that Baitfish is getting off…"

He watched as LaSalle's hand tightened around his glass. The younger man's knuckles were turning white. Messier half expected the glass to break, "I can't imagine what that's doing to you."

"No you can't," Chris retorted, downing the rest of his drink.

"It's a hell of a position to be in son. I can't say that if the same thing happened to the woman that I loved that I wouldn't take the exact same steps as my friend, Theo. Especially, if I knew that our so called justice system was just going to let the guy off."

LaSalle was twisting in unresolved anger and pain. Messier could see it. In fact, he almost felt bad for pushing the young agent. A glorious career and life was about to be destroyed and it was all because of his words.

But it needed to be done.

The next morning, LaSalle stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. Karen Izzo and her team of U.S. Marshals had just arrived to escort Baitfish to the federal building.

"Kevlar, really?" LaSalle looked at Messier.

Messier knew that if he was going to get LaSalle to make a move, it had to be now. "He's a federal witness now, everything's been forgotten, all those murders, my men, your girlfriend, just swept under the rug, like their lives were worth nothing."

Chris felt like he had been dragged through broken glass. His only hope was that Pride could convince Sasha to take the deal the D.A. was offering, and then the one the US attorney was offering to Jenks would be useless.

"You know," Messier added, "No one would blame you for wanting to put a bullet through his head."

LaSalle cut eyes at the police captain before walking away to suit up in his Kevlar.

The Explorer came to a halt in front of the warehouse, Pride's heart was pounding. The idea that LaSalle had given chase after Baitfish made his stomach twist in fear. He knew how vulnerable his surrogate son was and the fact that Chris had been keeping everything suppressed so that he could be a part of the case worried him even more.

"LaSalle's in here!" Brody told him as they started to move towards the door. "Messier's got back up!" Once inside they moved in sync canvassing the small narrow hallway. They were just about to the main room when a gunshot rang out echoing through the building.

"Christopher!" Pride took off in dead run praying he would hear a second shot. By the time he and Brody arrived, Baitfish was lying in pool of his own blood. He'd taken a direct shot to the head.

Baitfish stared vacantly up at Pride as he knelt beside him. The man that he had hunted for nearly twenty years is dead and his surrogate son is to blame. Could this situation possibly get any worse?

Pride glared at LaSalle. He already knew the answer to the question he is going to ask. "Christopher, what did you do?"

What needed to be done, King

LaSalle was almost catatonic, like he was the when Pride and Brody first arrived the night Savannah died.

"Chris!"

That got his attention. "He drew first, King."

Pride looked down at Jenk's dead body. Baitfish was getting the deal of a lifetime. He would have no reason to draw his weapon, unless he perceived LaSalle as a threat. The thought was plausible. LaSalle had been his original target. He'd only killed Savannah because she happened to be in right place at the wrong time. Then were Baitfish's finger prints, they were already on the weapon from where he had taken the Marshal's weapon.

He tried to think about the situation being reversed. What if Laurel had been the one killed? Would he just be able to accept that the man responsible for so many murders was just going to get a new start?

Could he remain the cool headed rational man he was supposed to be when faced with the opportunity to bring down the man who killed his only child? He was hardly in a position to judge LaSalle, he tried to tell himself.

Pride rose to his feet. He and LaSalle were going to have to deal with this. "Are you sure?" he asked skeptically, as LaSalle continued to look right passed him. "Christopher, I'm going to need your weapon."

LaSalle looked down at his gun as if someone else had fired the shot and reluctantly started to hand it over to Pride.

Several hours later, Pride sat at his desk, typing up a report of the day's events, his gut still twisting. He had always thought that the day that Baitfish died would be a day of rejoicing and peace, but instead it was just the opposite.

He had just risen to his feet when Messier walked in, his hands in his pockets. "Where's LaSalle?"

"Bereavement leave, he's going back home for Savannah's funeral." Pride moved from out behind his desk. "You want a drink?"

"Don't mind if I do," Messier joined Pride in the kitchen. After making the appropriate amount of small talk, Messier went for the jugular. "Listen Pride, LaSalle's a good cop and all but we both know what happened out there today."

Pride set down his glass, his face hardening. Messier was accusing his agent and his friend of cold blooded murder. "I know LaSalle told me that Jenks drew first."

Messier put his hands up. "I'm not saying the boy didn't do the world a favor. But Karen Izzo is going to be out for blood." The death of Baitfish had blown her deal to nail Sasha Broussard and several unknowns had just gone out the window.

"I'll deal with Karen." He had an idea as to how to sway, the US attorney not to press charges against LaSalle. It would cost him, but given that he was essentially the reason LaSalle was in this mess in the first place it he had no choice. He would take care of his family.

Messier, shook his head. "Given what we saw from LaSalle when his brother was arrested, the man has anger issues. "

Pride's eyes narrowed. Why was Messier so concerned with LaSalle? At the moment, all the reports were indicating that it was a good shoot with the exception that there weren't any cameras or witnesses to collaborate LaSalle's story. "I'll handle Christopher. If the investigation proves that charges need to be filed, I'll stand by that."

Councilman Douglas Hamilton, smiled largely as Pride took a seat at his table inside the Royal Street Garden Café. The café had yet to open, welcoming an atmosphere surrounded in privacy.

"Agent Pride, to what do I owe this honor?"

Pride removed his sunglasses as he sat down. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I need you to have that private conversation with Karen Izzo."

Intrigued, Hamilton picked up his coffee cup. "Why should I do that?"

"It was one of my people that killed Paul Jenks."

"LaSalle," Hamilton mused as he took a swallow of coffee. "That was quite poetic don't you think?"

LaSalle had actually saved Hamilton from facing public outrage over Baitfish's so called deal. Thanks to the grieving agent, a murderer had been brought to justice and his numbers in the polls were now safe. Hamilton set his cup down. "So, suppose, I talk to Karen and get her not put additional heat on the investigation. Then what?"

Pride would be indebted to Hamilton for sparing LaSalle. There was so much bad blood between him and Hamilton he shuddered to think what that would mean. "What do you want?"

Hamilton could hardly believe his ears. Was Dwayne Pride actually going to bargain for his agent's life? This was too good. The thought of asking Pride to turn in his badge came to mind, but unfortunately, Hamilton needed Pride to help keep his city safe. But then again the idea of having his own person at the head of NCIS was definitely entertaining as was having Pride in his hip pocket.

"Suppose for now, we agree to put our differences aside, and say that when the time is right, I'll come a callin'"

"Agreed," Pride felt his jaw clench. He had just given Hamilton a free license to essentially blackmail him for the rest of his life, a deal with the devil so to speak.

A/N: I know this part was very introductory so to speak. The next chapter will focus on our boy and how he deals with the consequences of his actions.